•SEPTEMBER 1945 TO JANUARY 1946
The war had ended, but its echoes lingered in the lives of Verohn and Giovanna. The two women stood side by side in a quiet Roman café, the air thick with the scent of espresso and the chatter of reconstruction. They had both been honorably discharged, their wartime heroism celebrated in public, but the scars they carried told a different story.
Verohn’s muteness had become permanent, her voice silenced by trauma. She sipped her coffee in thoughtful quiet, her hands resting lightly on the table. Across from her, Giovanna tapped a cigarette against the edge of her chair, her movements restless.
“War leaves us all a little broken,” Giovanna said, her voice low. She glanced at Verohn, her expression softening. “But we survived. And now, we rebuild.”
By January 1946, their paths began to diverge. Verohn married Victor Corazon, an Italian senator with ties to both workers’ unions and the Mafia. The union brought her financial security and political influence, but it also came with complications. Victor was a man of power, and his alliances were carefully maintained, often at great cost.
Verohn adapted to her new life, hiding her chronic pain behind a polished exterior. She perfected the art of diplomacy, leveraging her reputation as a war heroine to push legislation that supported unions and, indirectly, the Mafia. At home, she managed her pain with opium-laced hard candies, which she produced in secret at her candy factory.
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Meanwhile, Giovanna took a different path. Having divorced her unfaithful husband, she poured her energy into building an anti-war gang composed of altruistic criminals and disillusioned medical professionals. Her network operated from hidden clinics and speakeasies, providing care to the forgotten while subtly undermining the Mafia’s influence.
But whispers of a darker force reached Giovanna’s ears. The Silver Legion of Italy and Germany, rebranded from its American origins, had begun installing fascist sympathizers into positions of power. The SLIG posed a direct threat to everything Giovanna stood for. She vowed to fight them, even as her gang struggled to maintain its footing against the more established Mafia.
•MAY 1946
On a warm spring evening, Giovanna met Verohn at a secluded café in Venice. The two women sat in the fading sunlight, their expressions a mixture of relief and tension.
“You’ve heard the rumors,” Giovanna said, lighting a cigarette. “The SLIG isn’t just a remnant of the past. They’re regrouping, gaining power.”
Verohn nodded, her fingers toying with the edge of her napkin. She signed her response, her movements quick and deliberate: And you’re going to stop them?
“I have to try,” Giovanna replied. Her eyes met Verohn’s, steady and determined. “If we don’t, who will?”
The bond between the two women remained strong, but their paths had placed them on opposite sides of Italy’s complex web of power. Verohn, tied to the Mafia through her husband’s alliances, walked a dangerous line between legitimacy and corruption. Giovanna, leading her gang against the forces of fascism, risked everything to carve out a better future.
Both women knew that the peace they had fought for was tenuous at best, but neither was willing to back down from the battles still ahead.