Aw, fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Maronis. This is nothing but trouble. "Should've guessed," Roman winces and sighs deeply. What the hell are the Maronis doing sending men in Manetta turf to gather protection money? What are they doing on Manetta turf at all? He doesn't have the slightest clue, but he knows approximately no one's going to be happy about this. At least he doesn't have to worry about this lady being at all traumatized, given how funny she thought it all was. And also, the whole knocking the Italian out of that thug that she did.

That reminds him.

"Guess I should thank you for doin half my job for me," Roman says after a beat. He needs to go report to the Family, but that can wait a moment. "Do you guys have a number for one of us, in case more Maroni punks come back? Or at least, like," He considers for a second. "A baseball bat?"