Present time.
Beatrice walked into the unfinished building with a large bag; she dropped it at the entrance and fixed her gaze on him.
"This is it. It's all the money I could get from him," she said.
Giovanni stood up and walked to the bag; he examined it and saw bundles of cash.
"I didn't ask for this; why did you bring it?"
"You can have it. I know how much you love money. Just take the money and leave my daughter out of this."
"I asked you to bring her; I never asked for this. Don't get me angry." Giovanni returned to his seat, pulled out a cigar, lit it, and began to smoke, puffing out clouds from his mouth and nostrils as he did.
"I can't." Beatrice approached him, standing before him. "I can't," she repeated.
"But that wasn't our agreement. Beatrice, we agreed to leave together. The three of us. Don't make me mad; bring her here. My men are waiting to take us," he groaned.
