Rough draft of mafia thriller

A single recessed light bulb in the ceiling flickers on every morning around the same time. The light barely reaches the corners of the six by nine cell. Already washed and ready, Joe Fazzini sits on the end of his metal bunk waiting for the doors to open. Today will be his last full day of incarceration. Four years ago tomorrow, Joe exited the real world as ranking capo of the Marcuccio crime family of South Philadelphia. A clean cut, quite businessman, one would never know Joe was mobbed up. He had the mafia swagger to his walk and wore nice clothes but to outsiders it seemed he didn’t have a crooked bone in his body. He was Joe, and around the Italian Market in South Phili, he was well liked.
Now in his late twenties Joe had been single most of his adult life. He’s had girlfriends come and go but none that he really cared for either way. He was dedicated to the family that raised him and one person within that family in particular.
Back when Joe was just eleven years old he left a broken home and wound up on the streets for a short time. He mostly kept to himself and was never too popular with the other homeless and petty gangs in the neighborhood. He was usually left to defend for himself and he did it with great ferocity. On one occasion Joe was looking to the local Italian Market business owners for work when he spotted his mother being confronted by some local thugs in their teens. There were three of them, and within a matter of seconds there was one left who pissed himself after watching Joe dismantle his friends. After picking up his mother’s spilled groceries, Joe led her away walking proudly through the market streets.
Joe may have left his home but he didn’t leave the neighborhood. He liked the Italian Market and surrounding neighborhoods. He liked the people and for the most part the people liked him. A few years after Joe left his home he was sweeping outside of the 6th street market when he was approached by the same group of teens he had run-ins with before. He knew they wanted a fight and he knew he couldn’t back down. He put his broom to the side and began walking to the alley way next to the store he was working for. As he made the turn he was ambushed by even more of the teens and took a beating like never before. Joe didn’t even manage to get off one punch before he was kicked and beat to the ground. To him, it seemed like it lasted for ten minutes but in truth it was over in seconds. Bloodied and bruise Joe managed to get up and walk back to his broom to continue his work. He knew he would have his day with the other boys. He was methodical like that, always planning. One day he would catch a couple of them off guard and take them out. He may receive a bigger beating but that didn’t matter. He had to stand up for himself.
As Joe continued his job he had his backed turned to the street when a hand landed on his shoulder. Quickly Joe turned around and had the broom in position for a fight. This was the moment in Joe’s life when it all changed. Before him was a large man by any standard. He was nicely dressed with an impeccable Italian suit and cigar hanging out of his mouth.
“Do you know me?"
Joe shook his head up and down not saying a word.
“I’ve been watching you. Why didn’t you tell anyone about that beating you took over there?”
“I don’t need any help with those bums.”
Seemingly satisfied with Joe’s answer, the man began to walk and motioned for Joe to follow.
With that, Joe put down his broom and walked out of the market with the ranking capo régime of the Marcuccio Crime Family, Pete Bastone.