|| 𝕷𝖆 𝕯𝖎𝖆𝖛𝖔𝖑𝖆 || A Diavolo Fanfiction || (F/Reader Insert)

𝕰𝖕𝖎𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊

Naples, July 2002

"Buon giorno, signora!" the receptionist beamed his brightest smile to the morning customer who returned it with the same as she walked to one of the empty tables at The Libeccio with her toddler following her. Spotting one right next to an occupied corner table, she swiftly turned her footsteps in that direction, but before she could reach it, an arm grabbed her from behind.

Startled, the woman squealed and grabbed her kid to pull it closer.

"Mi spiace, signiora." It was the receptionist, now with his hands held behind as he nervously chuckled at her. "Temo che quel tavolo sia riservato per qualcun altro."

As he gently guided the woman and her child in another direction, the receptionist turned to look at the table that had been occupied. One of the customers, the man with the oddly-shaped hat subtly nodded his head back at him, inaudibly thanking him for the effort of not letting anyone close.

"Mista?" the girl sitting next to a blonde young boy called.

"Hm... Nessuno verrà," Mista replied to the girl with a head full of bright pink hair. The blonde sitting beside her nodded in confirmation and returned to the conversation he had been holding with the two guests in front, whilst petting a turtle with a strange gem on it that had been sitting still on the table.

"Yes, so I was saying... Your guesses were correct. Alesso Rossi has been confirmed by the police to be the same person who did the blackmailings and government data breaches in the 80s. To think he managed to stay hidden for so long... I shouldn't say this, but, it was definitely commendable."

"Any history on Erik Lombardo?" seated opposite to the kid, Danny asked him eagerly.

"Very little, but he happened to be of Italian extraction. I'm assuming Rossi must have brainwashed or blackmailed him into joining hands. Or paid him enough. "

"Considering how rich this Vittorio Volta was," Mista added, "the latter seems very likely. Don't you think Giorno?"

"Oh... Reminds me... I'm very sorry about what happened to your sister. And your entire family."

Danny's eyes stooped low, staring at his sister from the corner. "We weren't related. We were... fostered. But when you call it that way, it doesn't sound so bad."

Stifled whimpers from Teresa sitting next to him made it through into the conversation. "Oh... Sorry... I... We were really close... Y/n and I... I'm sorry I just couldn't contr-"

"Don't... It's alright."

Teresa looked in front, letting her teary eyes meet that of the other girl, much younger than herself, holding her hands on the table as she showed a comforting smile. "You've lost a loved one. It's your right to grieve; related or not."

Amazed at the maturity of this young lady, Teresa sniffed on her tears and nodded. "Thank you, er... Um..."

"Trish. It's okay, you can call me by my name."

"As promised, Signor Daniel," Giorno gracefully stood up from his seat and addressed Danny who followed suit, "because about 70 percent of Passione was bought by the former boss from your foster grandfather, Signor L/n; 50 percent of the shares the L/n firm previously owned in Italia shall be signed away to you. In compensation to the losses you suffered recently, as well as the loss of the lives, I leave the decision to whether serve Passione again or not to you."

The siblings gasped together in surprise. That was way too generous of him.

"B-But... But Don Gio we-"