Interior. Private restaurant – Below "La Sirena" – Afternoon
The dim light barely reaches the table covered with an old map of Manhattan. On it, colored markers denote territories and alliances: black for the Irish, green for the Jews, red for the Italians. In Little Italy and the Lower East Side, the red markers predominate, though the rest of the map remains fragmented.
"The Fifth Avenue is theirs —" a deep voice cuts through, Giovanni taking a sip of coffee — "And Harlem has been nobody's land since '22."
"Nobody's land, you say —" corrects Luca with an ambitious smile — "It's land for us."
Don Salvatore enters, wrapped in his burgundy velvet robe, his imposing figure filling the room. Though retired from meetings, this occasion is special.
"You want to conquer Manhattan, son?" he asks with a mix of challenge and pride.
"I want to consolidate it, Father," Luca responds determinedly. "By the time you retire, the Morettis won't just exist — they'll rule."
A heavy silence fills the room. All eyes fix on Don Salvatore, who only offers a faint smile.
"Do you support this?" Luca asks.
"With my life," Giovanni replies without hesitation.
At that moment, the door opens and Elena, Giovanni's wife, enters with calm steps. Her modest dress and headscarf contrast with the tension filling the room. She places a tray with coffee and pastries on the table.
"Your coffee, Giovanni," she says softly but firmly.
"Thanks, dear," he responds without taking his eyes off the map.
Elena quietly withdraws, letting the men resume their conversation.
Interior. Private restaurant – Below "La Sirena" – Night
Darkness envelops the room and the steaming coffee seems to absorb the tension.
Giovanni looks at the map with hard eyes.
"We have to move fast," he warns. "The Irish from the Bronx are already gaining ground in Harlem. If we don't stop them, they'll eat us alive."
Don Salvatore nods slowly, his eyes shining with cold resolve.
"You and Luca have the strength — but also the brains — to do it," he says in a rough voice. "The world is changing. Legal and illegal businesses must go hand in hand."
Luca clenches his fists, barely containing his impatience.
"We'll get support in Queens and Brooklyn," he announces. "The families there are ready to negotiate… or to fall."
Giovanni smiles grimly.
"Then let the Moretti voice be heard throughout the city."
The door opens once more. Elena appears, this time with a letter in hand. She approaches Giovanni.
"This came for you," she says softly. "From capo Sabino."
Giovanni takes the letter and reads silently. Then, without looking away, he gently kisses Elena's forehead.
"Thank you, Elena."
She nods and leaves, leaving the men with the gravity of their plan and the city to conquer.
Interior. Don Salvatore Moretti's private office – Night
The old lamp casts long shadows across the dark study. Don Salvatore's cigar smoke curls slowly toward the ceiling. Maps of Manhattan are spread over the heavy wooden desk.
Don Salvatore points with a pointer to the marked neighborhoods.
"Giovanni, the priority is SoHo, Tribeca, and Bowery," he explains. "They are our gateways to extend influence beyond Little Italy and the Lower East Side."
Giovanni nods, touching the map respectfully.
"And Wall Street?" he asks cautiously.
"That ground is locked down by the Romanos," Don Salvatore denies. "They have the government's favor and too many interests. It's not worth a frontal clash right now. We'll be patient."
Giovanni clenches his jaw, determined.
"SoHo and Tribeca first. No mistakes."
Don Salvatore sighs, a mixture of pride and warning in his smile.
"Tomorrow at dawn, Clemenza and Luca Brasi will lead sixty men to take control. It will be quick and clean."
Exterior. Streets of SoHo – Night
The city sleeps beneath the faint yellow light of street lamps. Silently, a group of men prepare in the shadows. Weapons gleam under the moon while the determined faces of Clemenza and Luca Brasi stand firm as steel.
The conquest begins.