2/2

Being able to understand that didn't make the Russian thief any happier to hear about it, or to ponder what would likely happen if the Turkish underground managed to barter out a foothold in the Greek islands from the natives.

If it happened, she might not really want to retire to a private island around the Mediterranean.

There would be no telling what kind of neighbors she might end up having, and she had gotten way too close to Turkish slavers for her own liking already once before.

A second encounter might not work out for her in the same way again.

"Μην κοιτάς ξινή, μικρό λουλούδι?"

"I do not speak Greek, sir." Sonya informed the bartender flatly in Italian, eyeing the drink he placed in front of her that she didn't order suspiciously.

"Italia's native tongue is close enough." He informed her with a slick smile that didn't reach his eyes. "But I said not to look so sour, little flower. We are here to enjoy ourselves, are we not?"

"Not." The thief informed him repressively. Renato had better lines than him, and she had been hearing him flirt at everything in a skirt since she was twelve. "I am here for the news around the region."

"Oh, indeed? Do you have an opinion you would like heard as well?" The smile dropped as if it had never been there and his tone was a touch acrid, probably already knowing her views on what kind of bed his homeland was about to make just by taking a random stab for her nationality.

"I have no opinion on those that deal with slavery. I merely think they deserve to be dead." Sonya pushed the untouched drink back across the bar, so the man could try selling it to someone else. "Is there any other reason you are bothering me?"

"You are very opinionated for someone that claims to have none on the subject."

"And when you are in chains, waiting for your so called 'master' to decide what he's going to do with you, you may end up sharing the same opinion as myself." She batted her lashes a few times, sliding off the stool she had been sitting on. "Now... I think I shall see if another club has less pushy bartenders. Or at least someplace else that will be less likely for me to wake up as the property of another if I happen to accept the wrong drink."

The man shrugged that off with the air of 'your loss', which she didn't buy into for a moment.

Frankly, if she wanted to listen to someone flirt she'd just go bar hopping with Renato. At least the hitman had a better understanding of when not to flirt and knew how to keep from insulting the women he was trying to chat up at the same time.

CLXXVI (Saturday the 12th of August, 1967. Former Headquarters of the Campo Famiglia, San Giovanni in Fiore, Italian Republic.)

For all that the previous and unlamented Don De Campo tried to ruin just about everything he had spent the bulk of his life building up, Renato managed to salvage a fair bit of it.

Not just the physical manor or the grounds around it, those had been pretty much unspoiled before a hitman with a grudge paid a visit and shot a couple things up. The nearby township San Giovanni in Fiore, a province of Cosenza, had needed a fair bit of personnel to keep vultures out of the normal day-to-day operations of both the civilian and mafia sides.

With what Mafiosi were left in the nearly murdered to a man famiglia, he had been lucky to keep hold of just the town for a couple months.

Scouring said township for semi-decent individuals and turning them into Mafiosi the hitman could trust with more than a single sheet of blank paper, keeping said vultures out of the territory, and ensuring those who were left got up to no mischief?

All while Shamal was getting into things a young boy probably shouldn't have when his attention was split between more than just three or four issues.

Renato had been a very tired hitman by the time Sonya put aside a block of time to help him out a little, and the little thief probably hadn't caught on to how fatigued he had been while she had been working on the little baby Mist at his behest.

Now with the Mist brat safely ensconced in Vongola territory, and a bit more breathing room with their reputation tied however loosely to his own, the hitman had dragged this famiglia out of the dirt and hauled it back on track to being respectable and not just a loose collection of criminal types.

Figuring out what to do with it now that it was no longer a near-certainty some other famiglia would have to take over the territory this one should have been managing was another issue.

The Soft Sun Flame user could probably make a semi-respectable Don. He had practically done it already, he was the one calling the shots and managing the day to day paperwork with a dash of finance juggling while his little 'minions' scurried around carrying his orders out.

If pressed to be honest, he didn't really like it much.

Give him any number of sketchy hits to do, contracts just a touch on the risky side of almost suicidal, rather than days of paperwork. Renato was not made to sit behind desks all day.

Indefinitely wasn't something he apparently liked working towards. He could deal with a year or two focusing on other things, which he had done long before this and was getting into with being Shamal's guardian, but when it stretched on without an end in sight...

If he kept on being honest, the hitman would admit to grabbing the flimsiest excuses to leave Italia and this headache behind. He probably should've stopped taking hits once this problem got dumped on him. Which he hadn't, because if he had not then more than just a few of his little underlings would probably have ended up six feet under.

Again, he was not made to sit behind desks while others did more interesting things.

Especially when they screwed up things that had been rather straightforward and simple that he could've done blindfolded.

Thankfully, now that the worst of the problems were dealt with, he had a small amount of time on his hands to ponder exactly who he was going to drop an entire famiglia onto. There weren't very many good 'Don' prospects among the few Mafiosi he had built up, and the previous Don's men didn't bear thinking about, so Renato was a little stuck.

...and wondering if Timoteo of Vongola had anyone he would like to 'promote'. It would equal out a fair bit of the debt on the hitman's side, maybe enough not to have to swear himself to Nono Vongola's service for the rest of his miserable lifetime. Not a whole lot, as much effort he had put into salvaging this famiglia aside there was still years of work left to do to turn it into something remotely able to sustain itself again.

Renato tilted the ridiculously comfortable desk chair back a bit, it was a bit back heavy so he couldn't balance it that far back on two legs, kicked his heels up on his desk and thought about that.

If he had to be connected to any famiglia, loosely if he had his way, Vongola wasn't a bad one to be under the protection of. A particular thief of his acquaintance had even admitted that, for all that she seemed dead set on avoiding the massive famiglia entirely. Sonya had, in fact, looked satisfied over the news Shamal was going to be cared for by Vongola resources in return for the hitman's nominal allegiance and a couple favors.

Odd little Cloud, for sure.

Unfortunately, thinking about the Russian Storm-Cloud made him think of her equally Russian Sun of a sister. Who was... he wasn't entirely sure, but he was betting that something about him amused that nurse more than anything he had done really warranted.

Tatiana had been entirely too helpful with her little foster sister's Sun research journal. He was pretty sure it wasn't his charms, because the woman kept smirking when he flirted even a little with her.

Which made everything a bit weird, so Renato didn't flirt with Tatiana anymore.

"Boss?"

The hitman suppressed a sigh, tilting his head to the side to pin one of his better minions with a semi-irritated look. If he had more paperwork to be signed he was going to shoot something.

Probably the paperwork, and coincidentally his desk. He didn't have enough decent people to afford shooting one every time they annoyed him.

"You said to tell you when one of the words you wanted the news scoured for popped up. One... well, two did in the Gazzetta del Mezzogiorno." The man held up a rather ruffled copy of said paper, as if that could shield him from his 'Boss' and any fit of temper that might end up aimed his way.

"Well?" Drawled the hitman after a beat, then held out his hand in demand when the minion hesitated but also didn't open his mouth.

Let whoever was going to be stuck here after him deal with the timidity of these Mafiosi, he had put far too much effort into this famiglia as it was.

He blinked at the paper in his hands, which had been ever-so-helpfully opened to the page in question before being handed over. "How do you feel about the circus?"

"The... circus? Boss?"

Renato ignored his minion's question, folding the paper and tossing it to his desk. "Time to go irritate a thief."

He had been getting a little bored.

CLXXVII (Sunday the 7th of August, 1967. Bari, Puglia region, Italian Republic.)

"You are ridiculous." Sonya informed him slowly, deciding that taking her mid-morning break early was probably a good idea.

"I came all the way up here to see you, and that's what you call me?" Renato, and she really wasn't surprised anymore when he popped up nearby, sniffed in mock disapproval and straightened his cuffs fussily. "Ungrateful, that's what you are."

"Yes, very ungrateful." Since they were pretty much in the middle of a crowd, the thief started making her way to the alleyway behind the 'curiosity' tents.

It was pretty much Madame Crina's, a local herbalist that asked to set up a stall, and a couple other knick-knack vendors selling everything from cheap jewelry to the balloons most of the other 'walking performer' clowns used in their street acts.

"Did you really come all the way just to get my opinion on your sense of dress?"

"No. Happy coincidence, that."

She shot him a look over her shoulder, then rolled her eyes at his self-smug smirk.

The hitman was in a three-piece suit. A not-quite-black suit and tie, with a bright yellow shirt and snazzy black shoes with a high polish. Which while interesting, because he had favored dark toned button up shirts and slacks with slightly less shiny shoes before this, was an entirely frivolous reason for him to seek out a non-working thief.

"So... I have to ask, why?"

"Mostly?" He drawled out sardonically as he followed her steps, curiously looking around at the narrow little enclosure when she turned to face him. "To get out and about, really. I've spent way too much time cooped up in the last few months, and my grunts need fieldwork experience."

Sonya blinked at him blankly, then scowled at the hitman as she realized what that meant. "Do you mean to tell me there are more Mafiosi here? And you just let them...?"

"No." Renato gave her the disgusted look he probably believed she deserved for that accusation. "They're paying customers, they have orders not to disrupt anything, and all they are supposed to do is learn how to blend in with a crowd in territory they aren't well known within and find a few things."

That was... not actually a bad kind of thing to try in mostly neutral settings. The Russian rather wished it wasn't this neutral setting, but given who she was talking to?

It could've been worse.

Now there were mafia mooks running around the Groβes Volksfest. Minions of the Sun's, who may or may not be completely loyal to him depending on if he 'inherited' them or not.

She really wished she had managed to find decent vodka somewhere the last time she stocked up on liquor. It was probably going to be needed, if anyone of her current coworkers figured it out and decided to risk asking her what the hell was going on.

"So... what are they trying to find?"

Her question made the hitman smirk again, which just made her suspicious.

"I told them a member of this circus has Mafia connections, and they're supposed to be scouting around to find such a person. Then report back to me who it is, what they do, and where they are."

"So... basically, they're looking for me or Cherep." Sonya summed up flatly.

"In a word? Yes." Renato buffed his nails on his lapel, then inspected them before glancing up at her out of the corner of his eye. "More you than your brother, but I suppose he does fit within that criteria."

"Me? Sure. Tatiana? Fine, as long as you are careful. Cherep? No. Understand?" She glared at the man until he warily nodded.

She knew her eyes were probably purple, but that wasn't something she had enough experience in to try controlling.

"I'll correct that."

"...at least tell me they are not dressed like you as well." At his suddenly completely innocent look, she sighed and dug around her leather vest's pockets for her pack of cigarettes. "Really? Why would you think that was a good idea?"

"Is it my fault if they didn't think to change before setting out for a..." The hitman gave a pointed look to their surroundings. "...more casual area than they were dressed for visiting?"

"You did not bother to change."

"I, little lady Sonya, have class." Renato informed her prissily with a scoff, holding out a demanding hand.

The thief blinked at him over her lit cigarette.

"Well...?"

"Really?"

He rolled his eyes at her. "I'll buy you a new pack when I see you next. Give me one."

Sonya kept on eyeing him suspiciously and keeping her smokes to herself. "That will not help me now. I have to actually go into town, find a store that sells them, buy whatever is local, and then walk all the way back to whatever fairgrounds we are at in order to have these."

"And they cost you a thousand lira for two packs. Three if you're lucky." He countered quickly. "I will steal them if you..."

He blinked, and she raised an eyebrow at him as he seemed to recall exactly what he was talking to. "I dare you to try."

"That sounds like a challenge." The hitman drawled, then snagged the cigarette she tossed at his face with a scowl. "Do you always have to be so difficult?"

"Yes. It amuses me." Sonya watched him pat down his pockets curiously. "What are you doing?"

"Looking for a lighter." By the tone of Renato's mutter, he thought that should have been obvious.

She lit her fingers with a lick of Storm Flames and held them out. "What is the point of having fire-based skills if you cannot light a fire with them?"

He blinked at her red burning fingers, flicked a glance to her lit cigarette, and scowled again but this time at the one he held. "Ho? Can I do that with Sun Flames?"

"They are Flames, are they not?"

The hitman touched a burning yellow finger to the tip of his cigarette, looking ridiculously pleased when it started to smolder and stayed lit when he removed his hand. "Interesting."

The thief rolled her eyes at him. "Why you never thought of that...?"

"Oh, shut up."

CLXXVIII (Sunday the 7th of August, 1967 continued. Bari, Puglia region, Italian Republic.)

"You again?" Cherep eyed the man standing next to his sister suspiciously. "There isn't anything else you caused that she's going to have to deal with, is there?"

"No." The man, who he was pretty sure had a name that started with an 'R', scoffed and glared at the purple colored stuntman.

"Probably." Sonya countered dryly in the next moment, looking slightly regretful. "Did you see all the men in suits on your way over here?"

"Yeah...? They're milling about over by the concession stands." He informed his fellow Cloud slowly, belatedly realizing those men were probably connected to this other man he was sure was mafia as well. More mafia men themselves, probably. "So... this isn't another Shanghai thing, then?"

"What happened in Shanghai?" The man he still couldn't recall the name of asked sharply.

The tiny blonde being towered over next to him tossed him a pithy glare. "Nothing happened in Shanghai, Renato."

'Renato' eyed her suspiciously, then turned to him with what was at first going to be a severe or imperious look but changed at the last moment to be less demanding at the last second. "Those men, are they just stuffing their faces or actually trying to plan?"

"Or plot, you mean?" Corrected the younger man, sheepishly scratching the back of his head and noting he probably needed another haircut. "Um... I'd say they're just eating. Didn't get close enough to do more than see they were out of place, were kind of messy eaters, and are being rude to the servers."

The news didn't seem to surprise the man hanging around his little sister, in fact it made him weirdly pleased for some reason. "Well then... apparently my men need a little... ah, behavioral correction when it comes to how to treat others."

"Do not hurry back." Sonya informed him with a roll of her eyes. "I will head back to work if that is all you needed from me."

"Actually..." He drawled out slowly, turning back to the thief. "Have you given any thought to what I've asked you earlier this year?"

"The visiting Vongola territory thing?" She clarified slowly, seeming to think about it in a negative kind of way.

The stuntman was instantly curious. If his baby sister disliked something, she didn't normally bother contemplating trying to deal with it unless she had no choice in the matter. She was more of a 'hold it at arm's length and ignore until it goes away' type of person when it came to things she hated.

What did this man ask of her that she disliked thinking of?

More importantly, what kind of draw or interest did she have in it to make her think of dealing with it?

"I do kind of want to see Shamal, and if this Ball thing is the safest way you can think of for me to do it...?"

Okay, who was Shamal and... BALL?

Cherep only realized he had spoken that out loud when Sonya answered him absently.

"Shamal is a kid, about four-almost-five. I met him last winter. And yes, Ball. Vongola's Christmas Ball. Which I do not want to go to, but it is likely safer for me to try visiting the boy while all that is going on."

"Yes, safer." Renato repeated almost blankly, looking highly interested in them both all of a sudden. "So...?"

"...I am still thinking about it." The thief decided after a long moment, looking slightly uncomfortable.

Confused, the stuntman looked between his foster sister and her mafia friend. Whom he had found in one of Sonya's usual haunts, alone together.

His little sister didn't like young children. She could deal with them and older teens decently enough in small doses, one-on-one or with very mature young children, but that was about it.

Yet she thought enough of this one Shamal kid to consider doing something she didn't like just to see him?

"You'll spare me the displeasure of dealing with matronly wives of various Dons' looking to match up their younger daughters with strong husbands." Renato tempted, which made no impact on the young woman's expression.

Actually, the thief looked slightly incredulous. "We are mafia."

"Which is just another way of saying 'those behind the ones in power'. Politics are unfortunately something we have to deal with up on top." He pointed out sourly. "That includes all the jostling for position by flaunting how wealthy or powerful one is."

She snorted harshly in return. "Tell me about it. I have not the foggiest of what to do with my own pull in that."

That was apparently not something this Renato character expected her to have some idea of, by the flicker of surprise that crossed his face.

Cherep, even if he had been here for a good part of this conversation, felt like he was missing something rather major.

"Shoo. You have mooks to corral, I have to get back to work." Sonya even flapped a hand in the other man's direction, turning to the stuntman before seeing what his reaction to that dismissal would be. "Cherep? Did you need something from me?"

"Actually... Master Liam sent me to ask about all those guys in suits, and if you knew what they were doing." He grinned lightly at the dismayed look that crossed her face.

His fellow Cloud also didn't have the slightest clue how to treat the circus master now that she knew he knew about things of a fiery nature. After having her suspicions confirmed in such a way that derailed her protective hostility over him out of sheer bafflement, she had been left floundering how to treat the man.

Master Liam was in no hurry to help her through it, especially since Sonya didn't suspiciously glare at him anymore whenever he was in range.

"They... are not going to make trouble." His baby sister stated a little woodenly. "If they try to approach you, find something else to do very far away. Preferably after letting me know they're trying to approach you."

That, oddly, made the man suddenly bolt out of the little enclosure made up out of the backs of several tents.

Still very confused, Cherep nodded slowly.

CLXXIX (Monday the 8th of August, 1967. Bari, Puglia region, Italian Republic.)

"Are you sure...?"

"Damn it, Cherep." Sonya sighed heavily, shoving him lightly with one hand as she shoved another crate into the back of a truck with her other. She was heavily abusing her Cloud Flame Propagated strength to make things go faster, but at least they were alone right now. "Stop worrying. This is not another Shanghai thing. I swear it. But this is Renato's home country, I did expect him to be able to find me here."

It wasn't like it had been any difficulty for the hitman to track her down anywhere else, from all appearances. She still had no idea how he found her in Austria of all places.

"Sorry... but, the last time something related to that... other thing you're mired within came up, you went missing for a month."

"I did not go missing," She corrected sourly with a sniff, "I knew where I was. Although... I wish you had not mentioned that to Renato."

"Why?" Her brother asked, sounding genuinely confused. "Wouldn't his knowing be a good thing? In case it happens again, but this next time somewhere like that island you work at sometimes?"

Dork, she thought fondly. With only the slightest undercurrent of exasperation. "Renato is not the type to do something out of the goodness of his heart unless it is in his best interest. If I did need his help, I would probably end up paying for it for years. Even if I could handle it myself, if he came after me specifically to help me out of any trouble...?"

That tidbit of news had the stuntman pulling a sour face at her. "Ouch. Never mind then, you go silent for more than a month or two, I'll just tell Tatiana."

"Preferably Arseniy." That got a bark of laughter out of him.

Cherep shoved at another heavy crate of props without budging it an inch, took a deep breath, and then copied her innate skill of force Propagation to finally move the wooden container to where it needed to go.

Sonya sighed again, damned her foster brother for making a vague mention of their Cloud Flame derived strength to Master Liam, and muscled the next crate around so it could be shoved into place next.

She had to specifically point out to him that Mist did not equate to a familiarity of Cloud, and that any more fishing expeditions the circus master tried on him should be sent to her. The fact Liam was looking for what else their 'extra' abilities would allow was just the man looking out for his traveling operation, but she still didn't appreciate it much.

Hastening loading time with Cloud Flames was edging into that borderland of unknown that Sonya had rather wished to avoid until she got solid answers on if Omert� covered Dying Will Flame use. If so, they were already ghosting the edge of allowed uses even if Liam had turned out to be 'in the know' already.

Although, if not made more sense.

There were all those children, born yet or not, that would pop up with mystical magical inner Flames of various hues who might experiment with said fire. They would technically be in violation of Omertà if that was covered, and since everything she heard of the Vindice had pegged them as uncaring if you knew the law you broke or not...?

There hadn't been any mass 'kidnappings' of children, anywhere. Not that Sonya had heard of anyways.

There were the occasional one or two, kidnappings or runaways, which happens mostly locally she could hear of. Given how Flame users pop up more and more often in groups, with a little work there had been four in her 'generation' of one neighborhood of Moscow and eleven that appeared not long after them, no mass arrest of kids happening had to mean Omertà didn't cover Flame use.

However, it could even be Cherep was covered through her because she did know and was sworn to the Vow of Silence, therefore they were in violation of the law regardless if Flame use was included in Omertà or not.

Figuring that out for sure was something she was nearly itching to solve, but short of contacting the Vindice...?

Sonya wasn't sure where or how to confirm her suspicions on that.

"So..."

"I swear, if you ask one more time..."

"Hey! I just worry, okay?" Her fellow Cloud shot a glare over his shoulder, looking more than just a little put out at her. "This was supposed to be not-mafia related. You know, mostly legal work in the so-called 'civilian' side of the world? Instead you got chased out of Shanghai... and now this."

Sonya eyed him, or more specifically his taut back. "I am sorry about that, Cherep. I did try."

"It's the thought that counts, right?" He spoke rather whimsically, hauling the next crate of what sounded like spare metal parts he would probably be much better at identifying than her. "I never did put a time limit or constraint on that favor I asked of you, did I?"

She kept silent, a bit regretful of how much the mafia had encroached on his dream job all because of her.

Even if she could afford to take another year off, she probably would've had even more trouble than this year had given her to deal with.

"It's fine." Cherep suddenly interrupted her train of thought, turning back and quirking a wry little smirk for her. "This kind of life is driving you up a wall anyways. I know it is, so don't even try."

"It's not the traveling that does it..."

"It's the volume of people and the constraints on you." He finished for her with a nod and a shrug. "So... Acquisitions, wasn't it? Ironic."

Sonya sniffed at him in mock-disgust for his picking on her 'official' Mafia Land cover story.

It was at least better than the hitmen's version of it, they were known as 'Cleaners'.

CLXXX (Thursday the 24th of August, 1967. Martina Franca, Italian Republic.)

Originally, the Groβes Volksfest was supposed to have gone from Moscow to China, then from there around to Africa's southwest coast, work their way up and west some more until Libya, and only then into Europe.

However, those plans hadn't been made to consider two different wars breaking out across Africa's southern tip in the middle of last year. What was being called the Namibian War of Independence, by the locals at least, had sparked a rash of conflicts up and down the coast of the nearby countries.

From what hazy memories Sonya could recall from Rachel, that would end up being collectively called the South African Border Wars. Namibia would eventually gain their independence too, if she recalled right.

Everyone just had to stop being assholes to those with darker skin color first.

Compared to risking two active war zones and all the complications that entailed, risking China had been tame in comparison.

However, the unscheduled detour through Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Republic had cost the circus a lot of income. Gained them some time, especially since they no longer had to work through the empty savannas and deserts of Africa, but that time was being used now that they were less likely to risk death lingering around.

Despite how quickly they had gotten out of Greece, and Sonya suspected that was due to the small spot of Jewish refugee smuggling the circus had done and the current military takeover of the country in question, they were crawling through Italy.

It wouldn't have been so bad normally, as she was now reluctantly used to slow traveling as it was, except the Russian thief didn't know where Vongola's territory started or ended.

She was pretty sure she was within it, Renato probably lingered on the border somewhere to not trespass on that Famiglia's grounds while he had been more freelance. Which meant, since he could spring the time for a visit no matter how small, that the near-coastal city of Martina Franca was probably within that.

Sonya also knew, from history the hitman had told her no less, that the Isle of Sicily was also part of Vongola's territory.

Somewhere on the southern end of Italy's peninsula was Vongola's headquarters, and knowing she was within it but being unable to tell for sure unnerved her enough she was sticking close to whatever town or city the circus stopped within. She had legitimate, and more importantly civilian-orientated, business being with them.

While that wouldn't really stop any Mafiosi that were suspicious of her from attempting to do her mischief, it would enable the Zolotovs to get her a bit of revenge... well after the fact.

Which Sonya would like to never have need of, really.

Instead of going back to her usual standby if bored, go drinking at whatever shady bar she found, she unnerved the hell out of Crina by taking the old bat to tour vineyards. The suspicious peering was amusing enough, and the thief found a couple wines she didn't mind drinking, but after the three weeks it took them to reach Naples she was about ready to crawl out of her skin.

"For fucks' sake, girl! Go!"

"Crina-"

"You're making me antsy, and I've lived through two World Wars." The old Romanian woman informed her, voice as dry as the desert of Saudi Arabia. "Suspicion has its place, but when you start using it to shackle yourself? You only live once girl, make something of it."

She had to work to not snort in the old bat's face.

She was on her second life, thank you very much. She knew as well as anyone else, except maybe Cherep, exactly how cheap a life could be.

"Don't give me the 'this old fraud knows nothing' look." Crina snapped in her face sourly. "No, I may not know what it is that crawled up your ass. But you're either going to have to grab whatever it is and make it not matter or decide when enough is enough and continue in spite of it."

The gypsy was even gesturing with the wine bottle as if to make her point, and from the sounds of it she had been more than halfway through it. The thief frowned absently, wondering if her brother had a point about enabling Crina's alcoholism.

Then again, the old bat could hold her liquor well.

"Pick one or the other but stop mincing around as if you expect someone to pop out of the dark to murder you."

Huffing, the thief dug around her stuff to find her pack of smokes. Which she was going through with alarming alacrity, but the stress was really starting to get to her.

Crina eyed her severely but seemed content enough to leave it at that.

Sonya wondered if she was blowing this out of proportion. Vongola might have a large territory, but surely the entirety of the southern end of the peninsula and the larger of the nearby islands had to be difficult to control with any degree of finesse.

They had an outside advisory branch, and probably a lot of people like Tyr the Sword Emperor or Renato himself. That also had to mean they had to have a lot of oversight going on over their people. Especially since Vongola had no current rumors of 'weakness' or 'fractures' floating around.

Which just might be PR and rumor control, but she'd never know unless she actually went out to find a couple answers.

Maybe, if she didn't pick a fight with the locals, it would be safe enough.