Ext. Moretti Mansion – Afternoon
The warm light of dusk filtered through the velvet curtains of the grand hall. In the center, Don Salvatore Moretti presided over the family meeting, his imposing presence filling the space. To his right, his son Giovanni, young but with the determination of a leader forged in fire, listened attentively.
Around the table were the main caporegimes: Luca Brasi, Salvatore's younger brother, burly with a piercing gaze that commanded respect without words; and Cataldo Sabino, Giovanni's father-in-law, whose experience and political cunning were well known throughout the family.
Don Salvatore spoke with a deep, firm voice:
—Luca, Hell's Kitchen is yours. A tough neighborhood, full of history, divided loyalties, and a mix of problems that will test your mettle. It's the west side of Midtown, a melting pot of immigrants, workers, and old grudges. You don't just have to take control—you have to hold it and turn it into our stronghold.
Luca nodded, slightly clenching his fists beneath the table.
—I won't fail, Don Salvatore. That neighborhood will reflect the strength of the family.
—Remember —Don Salvatore continued—, the key is loyalty and knowing when to be tough and when to negotiate. There are Irish factions and dissident groups that won't accept losing their turf without a fight.
Giovanni added:
—You'll have a hundred trusted men, plus logistical support from the whole family. You're not alone in this.
Luca lifted his gaze, his voice steady:
—I'm ready to begin.
Ext. Streets of Hell's Kitchen – Night
The streets were shrouded in thick fog that barely allowed visibility beyond a few meters. The distant sound of a streetcar clashed with the echo of muffled conversations in bars and taverns. Red brick buildings with weathered facades lined both sides, while neon lights flickered faintly.
Luca Brasi walked accompanied by his men, ten of the most loyal—small enough to avoid attention but enough to send a clear message. He knew the neighborhood like the back of his hand, but now he had to make others recognize him as their lord.
—First, we have to identify the gang leaders still resisting —Luca ordered quietly—. I want eyes and ears on every corner. We can't afford surprises.
The men nodded, dispersing quickly and efficiently. Some went to bars, others infiltrated workshops, while Luca moved toward the old pier, one of the nerve centers for smuggling.
Ext. Hudson River Pier – Night
The cold from the nearby water was felt even through the mist. Luca watched a small group of men loading crates onto a docked ship. He knew part of the illegal business passed through here: bootleg alcohol, weapons, contraband.
Suddenly, one of the men recognized him.
—Brasi… —he muttered, visibly nervous—. You shouldn't be here.
Luca didn't smile, but his gaze made it clear he wasn't looking for trouble without reason.
—This pier is Moretti now. If you want to keep working, you'll do it under our supervision. If not, find another port.
The man swallowed and nodded. Luca knew this was the key: make them understand resistance was useless, but business could continue if the family's rules were respected.
Ext. "O'Malley's" Bar – Midnight
In the heart of the Irish neighborhood, "O'Malley's" was filled with smoke and cheap beer. Luca entered with his group, eyes turning toward them, a mix of surprise and fear.
The owner, a burly man with visible scars, looked up.
—What do you want, Brasi?
—Peace and order —Luca replied—. Opportunities for those willing to cooperate. I want to talk with you and your men, no violence. But know this is Moretti.
The owner looked him over, weighing his options.
—Let's talk.
Int. Makeshift Office in a Basement – Night
Luca Brasi sat behind an old wooden table, barely lit by a hanging lamp. Around him, several of his most trusted men reviewed maps of the neighborhood, marking strategic zones.
Among them were Frankie "The Hammer," a strong and loyal guy known for his explosive temper, and Joey "Fingers," clever at gathering information.
—We have to move fast —said Luca, pointing at the map—. The pier is vital, but we also need to control taverns and garages where stolen cars are kept. Otherwise, anyone can enter and destabilize the area.
—The guys at "O'Malley's" seem open to the idea —Joey commented—. They're not so tough, but we have to make sure they don't ask for too much.
—No demands accepted —Luca replied—. The family commands, period. But a fair deal always opens doors.
Ext. Alley near Hell's Kitchen – Later
Luca and Frankie approached a group of young men, members of a local gang that until now acted without control. The tension was palpable.
—Listen —Luca started firmly—, this has changed. We won't tolerate fights between you or against us. If anyone wants trouble, come and we'll settle it our way.
One of the youths, frowning, challenged:
—What do you offer us? Just rules and fear?
—Protection and order —Luca answered—. That's worth more than any useless fight.
The young man looked at his companions, who slowly lowered their weapons and nodded. Luca knew this was the first step to stabilizing the area.
Int. Moretti Mansion – Midnight
Meanwhile, at the mansion, Don Salvatore received constant reports. Giovanni told him:
—Luca is taking control of Hell's Kitchen, though he still faces resistance.
—I know —Salvatore replied—. We expected no less. That neighborhood is tough, but it's crucial for Midtown's domination.
Cataldo Sabino, who accompanied Salvatore, added:
—When Luca finishes, it will be solid territory. Now we need to see what Luca Moretti does with the east-center.
Ext. Hell's Kitchen Neighborhoods – Following Days
The following weeks were of constant work. Luca Brasi moved not only with force but with cunning. In taverns and clubs, he imposed his presence but also sought allies in owners and employees, who provided vital information.
During a meeting at "The Stag's Head," Luca spoke with his capos:
—I want you to set up an informant system. No one enters or leaves without us knowing. We don't just watch—we control.
Frankie, excited, answered:
—We're on it, capo. We already have people on the piers and in the black market. If someone moves without permission, we'll know before they cross the street.
—Good —Luca nodded—. We also have to protect the common people. They pay for our businesses and give us power. No one should bother them without cause.
Conflict: The Resistance
Not everything was easy. A group of former allies of the O'Connell family, an Irish organization that once dominated Hell's Kitchen, began to organize resistance.
One night, Luca received a clear message: a small bomb exploded near one of his warehouses, causing damage but no casualties.
Luca gathered his men.
—This is just the beginning —he said, gritting his teeth—. We'll show them Moretti doesn't give up.
They planned a swift response: identified the suspects and took control of one of their meeting points, making it clear resistance would be crushed.
In the weeks that followed, Hell's Kitchen began to feel the change: fewer street fights, more order in business, and a constant presence of Luca Brasi and his men. People knew who was in charge and, although some still murmured in the shadows, the Moretti family had taken a firm step toward consolidating their power.