The ship creaked as it cut through the gray waters toward America. Vito Scaletta stood near the railing, gripping it tightly as cold wind brushed against his face. He was just a boy, but even then, he could feel it—this wasn't just a journey. It was a beginning.
Behind him, his mother held onto his little sister, while his father stared silently at the horizon. They had left everything behind in Sicily for a chance at something better. A chance at America.
"Vito," his mother called softly, "stay close."
He nodded, but his eyes remained fixed on the skyline ahead.
Empire Bay.
Tall buildings stretched into the clouds, smoke rising from factories, ships crowding the docks. It was loud, alive… and intimidating.
When they finally stepped onto land, the city swallowed them whole.
Life in Empire Bay wasn't what his father had promised.
Their apartment was small, cramped between dozens of others in a worn-down building. The walls were thin, the nights loud, and the money never enough.
Vito quickly learned the truth.
His father worked long hours but was always in debt. Bills piled up. Arguments filled the apartment. The "American Dream" felt more like a trap.
But outside?
Outside was different.
The streets were alive with opportunity—if you were willing to take it.
That's where he met Joe Barbaro.
Joe was everything Vito wasn't—loud, confident, fearless. He knew the streets like they were his home, and more importantly, he knew how to survive them.
"You wanna keep being broke like your old man," Joe said one day, "or you wanna actually live?"
Vito didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
It started small.
Stealing fruit from vendors. Picking pockets. Running from cops.
Each time, Vito felt something new—control. Power.
For once, he wasn't the poor kid from a struggling family.
He was someone who could take what he wanted.
Joe pushed him further.
"Come on, Vinny," he said one evening, leading him down a dim alley. "Time to step it up."
They stopped behind a small neighborhood store. The lights were still on, but the back door looked weak.
Joe grinned. "Easy job."
Vito hesitated.
This wasn't stealing fruit anymore. This was different.
Bigger.
Riskier.
"Don't freeze up on me now," Joe whispered. "We're in and out."
Vito took a breath… then nodded.
They slipped inside.
The store smelled of bread and tobacco. The shelves were lined with goods Vito's family could barely afford. For a moment, guilt flickered in his chest.
Then Joe moved.
"Grab what you can!"
Vito rushed to the counter, hands shaking as he opened the register. Coins clattered. His heart pounded louder than anything else.
This was it.
This was real.
"Hey! What are you doing?!"
The voice hit like a gunshot.
The shopkeeper had returned.
Panic exploded.
Joe bolted for the door. "RUN!"
Vito followed, adrenaline taking over as they sprinted into the alley. Rain had started falling, turning the ground slick beneath their feet.
Footsteps thundered behind them.
"Stop! Thieves!"
Joe disappeared around the corner.
Vito tried to keep up—but he slipped.
Hard.
Pain shot through his side as he hit the ground.
Before he could recover, strong hands grabbed him, dragging him up.
"Got you now," the shopkeeper growled.
Vito struggled, but it was useless.
Joe was gone.
And for the first time, Vito was alone.
As he was held there, soaked in rain and shame, one thought echoed in his mind:
This is the price.
Empire Bay had given him a taste of power…
And now, it was taking something back.