Chapter Text
Tonight, Prosciutto found himself leaning back in a chair at his usual bar. He had a cigarette in one hand and the other drumming his fingers on the table. There were countless conversations going on around him he couldn't make out nor cared to eavesdrop on, occasional bursts of laughter, servers bustling between tables both empty and crowded with obscenely loud men clinking their glasses together.
Formaggio had his arm hanging over the back of his chair while he made conversation with a group of girls at a table over, and Ghiaccio sat silently with a drink in his hand. Though, he was sure the silence wouldn’t last for long. Gelato elected not to join them and turned in early for the night. Whatever, his loss.
He was thoroughly enjoying himself, just sitting there in his chair, when a familiar, timid voice spoke his name. Prosciutto curls his lip back in a sneer and directs his attention to his side, where Pesci stood looking all too nervous and out of place.
“What?” He asks, annoyed.
“Th-there’s a man who wants to talk to you, bro.”
Prosciutto straightens up and throws a glance behind Pesci. A rather wealthy looking pan stood there with a manila folder in hand. Prosciutto eyes him up and down before speaking again, “what do you want?”
“I’ve heard from my associates that you’re a well-respected monster hunter, correct?”
Prosciutto takes a drag off his cigarette and blows a plume of smoke, “who’s asking?”
The man takes a step forward and places the folder on the table, “that’s not important. I have a job for you.”
Prosciutto rolls his eyes and gestures toward Ghiaccio. He nods in understanding and grabs Formaggio by his coat and whips him around to face the table with a screech of his chair across the wooden floor. “Hey! The fuck’s your—”
Prosciutto glares at him and Formaggio snaps his mouth shut. He returns his attention to the stranger at their table and cocks an eyebrow at him, “lay it on me.”
The man clears his throat and mutters, “yes, yes,” while he opens the folder, revealing a few documents with a couple of photos attached to them. Prosciutto leans over the table to get a closer look, eyeing them curiously. This face looked too damn familiar…
His features were chiseled with a well-defined jaw, pouty lips, and a cold expression. He was handsome, sure, but what interested him the most were his black sclera and striking red irises. There was no mistaking it—he was one of the most elusive vampires known to today’s hunters.
“Is this a fucking joke?” Prosciutto hissed.
The man quickly splays his hands, “n-no, sir!” He stammers, “I-I promise you! I believe if any hunter could track Risotto down, it would be you!”
“And what makes you so sure of that?”
“I have the utmost faith in yours and your teammates abilities given what I’ve heard about you! And, aside from that,” he lowers his voice, “I have some information regarding him that may pique your interest…”
Prosciutto raises an eyebrow, “is that so?”
He nods, “yes, sir! I understand that you lost a family member as a teenager, am I correct?”
Prosciutto tenses, “and what of it?”
“And he was lost to a vampire, yes?”
“Just cut to the chase!”
The man gulps, “we have reason to believe… his life was taken by this vampire.”
“How do you know that?” Prosciutto asked coldly.
“Let’s not worry about—”
“No! Who the fuck are you?" Prosciutto snarled, rising from his chair and grabbing the man up by his shirt.
“Dude, cool it!” Formaggio quickly rose from his seat and gripped Prosciutto’s shoulder, “you’re just making a scene!”
“No, that's some bullshit,” Ghiaccio piped in, “you don’t just say some shit like that to somebody out of the blue! It's disrespectful as all fuck!”
Prosciutto glares daggers into the man in his grip. For a few moments, he contemplated what he might do to him, but he realized that people were staring at it wouldn’t do him any good or make him feel any better. He lets out an exasperated sigh and lets the man go, then calmly returns to his chair along with Formaggio.
“M-My apologies,” the man whimpers while he fixes his suit, “I should have been more direct with you.” He lowers his head and crosses his hands together, “I come from a wealthy family who also suffered a loss at the fangs of this vampire… it was never my intention to upset you, I just want to see justice for my now late nephew.”
“And you really think we’re the ones who can achieve that for you?” Prosciutto takes a drag off his cigarette to calm his nerves.
The man nods, “I’m Velerio Russello. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“How much?”
“Er—how does fifty-thousand euros sound?”
Ghiaccio spits out his drink, “ fifty-thousand!? ”
Prosciutto’s jaw drops and he shares a look of understanding with his teammates. He was really worth that much, huh? He removes the cigarette from his mouth and holds out his free hand, “deal.”
Valerio shakes his hand enthusiastically and slides the open folder toward Prosciutto. “This is all the information on Risotto that I have… and, unfortunately, these are the only photos of him we have.”
“Not a problem,” Prosciutto gestures toward Ghiaccio, “we have our resources. We can get the job done if you give us time.”
Valerio mutters several more “thank yous” before he turns and leaves. Now, it was just the four of them. Pesci finally takes a seat beside Prosciutto, who puts his cigarette out on the table
“Looks like we’re going to be busy for a while.”