September of 1973. Sicily, Italy.
At first look, one would deem the room of gentlemen your typical stuffed suit Wall Street workers, puffing cigars and sipping brandy. A keener eye would pick up the subtleties that bring the scene from normalcy. The men's chalky pallor and the glint of sharp teeth are a dead giveaway of the lack of humanity in the room. All eyes turn to the door as a young girl enters. She, like the outward appearance of the gathering of gentlemen, is not as she seems. The girl walks past the men without the shyness or hesitation of one so young. There's something in the confidence in her stride, or perhaps the snugness of her dress, that suggests maturity beyond the pubescent guise. She pulls a decanter from the bar, removing the stopper with deft fingers and pouring a measure of the liquid into a heavy glass. The smell of scotch and copper permeates the room. She brings the glass to her lips, taking a mouthful of the ruby tinged liquid. She meets each set of curious eyes with a look of indifference before setting on a pair whose stormy blue color match her own. The corners of her full lips turn up ever so slightly as she crosses over to the man. He whispers something in Italian to her as the she hands the glass to the man, pressing her mouth to his before perching upon the arm of his chair. She crosses her legs, exposing flesh in a way that causes many of the men to avert their eyes. An imperceptible smirk is directed towards the few whose gaze lingers.
"Gentlemen, before I commence with the monotony of our business today, allow me to introduce my daughter, Karina." Karina's smirk intensifies at the quiet murmur in response. Her father's cold glare is enough to silence the room once more. The rest of the night is played out in strategies and acquisitions. Despite the mundane subject matter, young Karina remains rapt with attention. Her gaze switching from face to face as the men bounce ideas off one another. She keeps silent and still, moving only to refill her father's glass now and again. Each time, mindfully aware of the eyes that follow her progress, none quite as captivated as her father's.
Once the meeting is adjourned. The men bid farewell to the lord of the house, with a scant handful sparing a departing word to Karina. She takes note of the few, remembering their faces for future reference. Once the room empties, the man rises to pour his own drink, and Karina settles into his seat. "You had your sit in, dearest Karina. Do you still wish to control this arm of the company?" The barest hint of disbelief in discernible in his voice.
She responds, once again maturity beyond her appearance showing through. "Yes, Papa. I'm educated enough in this type of business, and your men won't be too difficult to sway in favor of my authority. Those who are more...rigid, can easy be coerced. Or otherwise."
Her father smiles proudly at his kin. "You have my permission to utilize control in whatever means necessary, darling." He knees at her feet, burying a hand in her dark curls. "Vincenzo can assist with any naysayers."
She smiles slightly, turning her head a fraction as he places his lips to her throat, kissing the twin scars that mar the otherwise flawless skin. "I'll make you proud, Papa."
A week or so later, the men are gathered once more. There's no mention of their bosses absence, nor of the presence of an older gentlemen keeping to the rear of the room. This time when the young girl enters, it's barely noticed. The men perhaps already accustomed to her. The only attention that lingers is from the white haired gentlemen in the back. Karina and he meet eyes in silent greeting. Once again she pours a drink, then takes a seat in the most prominent spot in the room. Resting the glass upon the arm of the chair, she clears her throat. It's noticeable, even in the din. "Gentlemen, I'll ask that you take your seats." A few of the men comply straightaway. Unsurprisingly, the same who spared a word for her at the end of the last meeting. The others shuffle and take their time, finishing up conversation before settling comfortably in their chairs. This lack of compliance brings a grim scowl to Karina's face.
Waving his cigar in her direction, one of the men runs a hand through his slicked back hair. "Hey dollface, where's your daddy? Bene' usually don' keep us waiting."
She meets the slick man's eyes. "My father is indisposed. I will be running tonight's meeting. Tonight and all thereafter, in fact." This statement is met with scornful laughter from most of the men in the room, loudest of which comes from the original inquirer. Karina rises from her chair, crossing the room to stand in front of the man. He leans back, a bemused expression on his face.
"Sorry, sweetheart. I don't take orders from no baby. Even if Bene' himself tells me to. Now why don't you go play with y' dolls or y' Easy Bake oven or somethin'"
Karina doesn't react to the insult, but an ear splitting bang echoes throughout the room. The man topples out of his chair. Blood and gristle pour from a gaping hole in his skull, onto the carpet. Standing behind the man's seat is the older gentlemen. His face is speckled with blood and the gun in his hand is still pointed to where the man's head was. The other men glance fearfully around at each other, before settling on Karina. She slowly walks back to her seat. Settling comfortably, taking a draft from the glass, she smiles. Her face is also spattered with blood, her grin showing sharp fangs coated with the dark mixture of scotch and vitae. "Thank you, Vincenzo." The older man nods respectfully, placing the revolver back in a shoulder holster. Turning her attention to the man closest to the twitching, bleeding mess on the floor. "You. Take -that- out to his car. Tell the driver he'll need to feed."
"Yes, miss." The man jumps up in an instant, hefting the fallen vampire over his shoulder and exiting the room with haste.
"Does anyone else have any negativity or disapproval they would like to direct my way?" She's greeted by silence. "Good. Now, before I was rudely interrupted." She pauses, as if expecting another outburst. Almost disappointed, she continues. "I will be taking over for my father, Benedict. That means, I am your new boss. From now on, everyone in this room will answer to me, and follow my direction." She bares her teeth in a smile. "To the T. Anyone who takes issue with this will be dealt with in the same manner as him." She gestures to the dark bloodstain on the carpet. "With all the threats and trivial nonsense out of the way, I'd like to take care of our actual business tonight. Someone fill me in on this week's progress." Almost immediately, one of the men start talking. Hesitating at first but more confident as neither Karina nor Vincenzo make a move toward him. The meeting continues uneventfully, and Karina even receives a few respectful handshakes at the closing of it.
After all Kindred are dispersed, Karina looks to her ghoul, impressed. "That was some excellent timing, Vincenzo. That couldn't of made a better impact if had been scripted."
Vincenzo's smile is apparent beneath the snow white of his mustache. "Thank you, Miss Karina. I must say, I'm quite inclined to address all insult to your character in such a manner." He sighs. "Your father might be a bit put out that his favorite rug is ruined."
Ghoul and vampire look down at the blood soaked carpet and Karina scoffs. "Like he can't afford to buy a dozen others."
Vincenzo starts moving the chairs aside, humming to himself as he rolls up the rug. Karina starts for the door. "Would you like for me to send your father in when he returns? Update him on tonight's progress?"
A flash of cold disgust crosses the young girl's face, wiped away before she answers. "No, Vincenzo. You fill him in. I have some work and study to get done, I'd rather not have his interruption."
The ghoul nods, avoiding his domitor's eyes in the chance that she may read pity in them. Perhaps she still senses it, for her "Goodnight, Vincenzo." is a touch more curt than usual. He opens his mouth to bid her a pleasant evening, as the door slams shut after her retreating figure. A sigh.
"Goodnight, Miss Karina."