The hospital room was overwhelmingly warm, as it was full of as many 'family' members as possible. Celeste Heda lay in bed, propped up by as many pillows as possible, breathing quietly as she sleepily took in the blurry faces of her loved ones.

"Who was it?" asked a young woman holding Celeste's hand, as she sat pulled up in a chair as close as possibly to the bed.

Celeste turned her head to see the woman. "Lexa," she whispered groggily. "Why are you so sad, Lexa?" Lexa sighed, knowing patience was best. Poor old Celeste was not only groggy from hanging off of a thread of death, but from the paralyzing effects of the medicine meant to save her.

"I don't like seeing you hurt, ma, you know that," Lexa answered gently, as the rest of the motley crew watched. "Who hurt you? Was it Nia?" Nia was the head of a very small family that was trying to climb the ladder, but could never find purchase like the Heda family.

"Jaha," Celeste mumbled, moving her head against the pillow in discomfort. "Jaha himself, and some goon."

"The accomplice was identified as a Jake Griffin," spoke up a woman named Anya, who was among in the room. "He died in the crossfire. A bullet from Celeste's gun."

"That I did," Celeste groaned, attempting to chuckle at her small triumph. "Never go down without a fight…"

"We'll investigate this Griffin family," Lexa promised, squeezing Celeste's wrinkled hand. "While the main accomplice is dead, we do not know how tied up this family is with Jaha, or Kane for that matter."

"Lexa," Celeste breathed weakly, waving the young woman closer to her. "My will, it is in the safe in my office,"

"Don't talk like this, ma," Lexa interrupted, shaking her head, and everyone else in the room murmured in agreement.

"Hush," Celeste groaned, "My will, it is in the safe in my office. If I should die, you will become the new head of this family, and no one better deny my will. For the time being, I cannot lead in this state. You are placed in charge of this family and our goals until I am fully healed. If I do not, then you will simply permanently take over, do you understand?"

"Yes, mama," Lexa muttered. While she saw this coming, especially with the absence of Costia and Luna, deep down Lexa did not want the privilege of leading.

"Right now," Celeste repeated. "What is your first command?"

"We will investigate the Griffins."

Lexa lounged in the passenger side seat as Gustus drove the sleek black car, Anya and Indra, the Heda family lieutenants, sat in back. Lexa couldn't stop thinking about Celeste and the possibility of losing her adoptive mother. More importantly, she wanted revenge. Her whole life was surrounded by memories of Jaha and Kane simply not leaving her family alone, and she had enough. It was time to end these conflicts once in for all, in the most climactic gang war the world would ever see.

"We need to retaliate somehow," Indra suggested, one of her lieutenants sitting in the back with Anya.

"I know," Lexa mumbled, subconsciously nipping on her thumb as she looked out the window. "I know a show of power is needed right now. The other gangs will start to think that the Heda family isn't a force to be reckoned with anymore since Celeste is on the line. I just need to see everything first… a want a strategic show of power, not a reckless one. What good would it be to retaliate in a way that makes us fish in a barrel?"

Her soldiers nodded in silent agreement as they continued to drive.

"According to the files we received from our few friends in the police force, this is the Griffin house, Lexa," Gustus said, pointing over to Lexa's window as he pulled over. The Griffins lived in a typical semi-suburban house on the outskirts of TonDC. Thirty years ago the neighborhood must have been new, but now the paint had become dull on all the houses, and the wooden fences looked to have numerous splinters. Typical middle class living when not choosing to live in an apartment.

"There," came Anya's voice from the back seat, "That is his daughter, named Clarke Griffin."

Lexa watched as a young blonde woman walked down the sidewalk towards the house, clutching text books to her chest as a heavy side satchel weighed down across her chest.

"She is a medical student, who earned money to go to school… out of the blue," Anya said nonchalantly, implying something more.

"Where did she get the money from?" Lexa asked, looking the girl up and down as Clarke fidgeted in her satchel for her house keys, unaware.

"Our sources say the money came from the Jaha gang. She probably says she was awarded a scholarship." Anya answered.

"Do we know if she knows about her father's involvement with the Jaha's?"

"Not sure," Anya admitted.

"Well figure out. If we need to, we'll use her as leverage somehow to get to Jaha. Her or her mother, at least."

"Yes, Lexa."

With that, they drove away, unknown to Clarke, who finally got the front door open.

"Mom, I'm home from class!" she said down the entry way of the house, kicking off her shoes at the door. When she didn't receive a response, Clarke dropped her satchel and books off by her shoes on the floor, and went searching in the house to see if her mother was home at all. She got the answer to her question when she made it to the kitchen, to find her mother, Abby Griffin sitting at the kitchen table with her face in her hands.

"Mom, what's wrong?" Clarke asked, taking a seat next to her mother at the square table. She reached over to put her hands on her mom's shoulders in an attempt to comfort her.

Abby groaned deeply before taking a deep breath and revealing her face from her hands. Her eyes were puffy and red, and her cheeks were soaked with tears.

"Mom?"

"Clarke," Abby's voice croaked as she tried to find the words. "There's something you need to know."

Mentally preparing herself for the worst, Clarke leaned back in her chair, waiting for her mother's bombshell.

"Your father… he, he worked for a man named Thelonious Jaha, are you familiar with the name?"

Clarke's face darkened with dread, obviously recognizing the name. Everyone knew Jaha. Granted the man was mostly surrounded by conspiracy theories, but the theories and rumors were hideous. The man was the head of a vicious organized gang that controlled almost half of TonDC. She thought her father had simply worked in a university. "Yes," croaked Clarke.

"Your father… he was killed a few hours ago. Shot, by uh… shot by Celeste Heda."

Clarke's mind was spinning, trying to put the dreadful information together. Her father had been shot to death by another crime lord. Her family was the world to her, and while her heart broke at the death of her father, a cloud loomed over her, opening her to the realization of a new world that was about to drag her in.

"Was dad… was he ordered to kill this woman?" Clarke asked, trying to stay firm, yet her voice waivered.

"Yes," Abby said, combing her lose hair with her shaking hands. "He went with Jaha to take down Celeste. Jake said that Celeste had become too confident and began to walk the city without bodyguards, so Jaha wanted the city to know that this was still somehow his city, so wanted to 'punish' her for her boldness. They shot her outside of Walden Coffee Shop, but before the woman went down, she uh, she had shot your father. Jaha escaped, and left your father's body there to be picked up by the police."

Clarke wanted to mourn for her father, but her soul was aflame with revenge. The least her father's 'boss' could have done was retrieve his body. Or defended him better. Something.

"What about Jaha?" Clarke asked.

"What do you mean?" Abby groaned.

"Do… we… still work for him?"

"I do, now…"

"But why?!" Clarke found herself shouting. "Why does he have such control over you and dad?"

"That's a story for another day, Clarke," Abby said warningly. "Let's… let's just let have your father have this day, at least."

It was now that Clarke let her tears out, anger and loss mixing into one, and found herself reaching for her mother, surrendering to anguish.

Clarke went to sleep late, overcome by grief and the overwhelming need to take care of her mother. She felt herself wake every thirty minutes or so, as the thought of her father's passing made its way into each one of her dreams. She found no solace in reality or her mind. She found herself awake once more at 5:15am, and simply decided to accept the fact that she just wasn't going to get any sleep. As she shifted up against her pillows, her eyes adjusted to the darkness and began to take in the shapes of all the furniture and belongings in her room. And as they adjusted, she couldn't help but notice that there was something off about her room, she could have sworn that she saw things that didn't belong.

Before she could really put her mind around it, a hand wrapped around her mouth stifling the scream that would have escaped. There were men in her room, four of them. Two middle-aged, two young. And if she didn't know any better, she'd say-

"Thelonious Jaha," one of the men said, holding out his hand. "Pleased to meet you."

Clarke kept her hands up on the hand covering her mouth instead, trying to free herself instead of engaging in pleasantries. Jaha chuckled quietly and retreated his hand.

"We've simply come by to offer our condolences, Clarke. Your father was a great man, and we are devastated by his loss," the mob boss continued. "My son is going to let you go if you promise to be quiet. Just remember that if you scream we'll just kill you right here, and your mother, so keeping quiet is in your best interest."

The young man covering Clarke's mouth finally let go of her, gently, and stepped away.

"Thank you, Wells," Jaha had said to the man. Clarke watched the youth take a few more steps back to give his father the floor.

"Clarke, as you know your father was killed in action doing a very noble cause for our business. I employed him years ago, in fact, to reward him for his loyal service, I granted you your medical scholarship."

Clarke's heart dropped, having to come to terms that she owed her education to this man. "My father would never support a criminal cause. I know there has to be some reason why he did it. You probably made him feel like he had no other choice."

"That's correct, brave girl," Jaha smiled. "And now you're about to be in the same predicament. You see, while your father passed, Celeste hasn't yet. Perhaps you can honor your father's memory by completing his mission for me? I would ask your mother, but she doesn't work in the hospital Celeste is being treated in. You, on the other hand, happen to have your classes in the exact same hospital that is hosting our target."

"I won't kill someone for you," Clarke said, mustering as much courage as possible, even though her survival instincts told her to submit. Survival versus moral standing, the conflict of all eternity.

"Yes, you will, Clarke. You will go attend class tomorrow like nothing ever happened, scrubs and all. During your lunch break you will make your way to Celete's wing, we'll provide that information to you, and you will use this syringe here," Jaha was handed the instrument by his son, which was already filled with a clear solution, "and insert it into Celete's IV bag. Then just leave, as if you are completing rounds. If there is family present in the room, just play the part of the nurse you are. They shouldn't suspect a thing. The leader will die, and we will finally jump to take control of the Heda industries. If you don't do that I will kill your mother, revoke your scholarship, and you will be left a homeless orphan on the street."

"If I do this, will you finally leave me and my family alone?" Clarke asked, looking at the syringe, only thinking of saving her mother. She had to swallow her pride. Jaha smirked and watched the young blonde, frozen in her bed.

"Sure," he said, "If you kill Celeste, your family is free."