Alexandra didn't look like much.
Pretty much like any 19 year old girl you would find in Gotham. She wasn't too tall or too short. She was slim with blonde curly hair which just brushed her shoulders. She had her fathers eyes and no other resemblance.
Looking at her, you wouldn't think that she was anyone special or anyone who was remotely interesting.
But she was.
She was the daughter of the biggest mob boss in Gotham city. Dominic Byyrne. Not that she felt it was anything to brag about. It was just how life was for her.

8:30am.
Yes, walking into that bank nobody would have suspected a thing. And no one ever will.

BANG!

"Get on the ground! Get on the fucking ground!"

Sliding to the floor Alexandra looked at the terrified bank goers pressing their faces to the floor as men with masks burst through the doors. One man dragged the cashiers over their counters and brought everyone into a group onto the floor whilst the other two held their guns at the hostages.

"Right, not many people will be in the bank at that time. I want you all in & out

fast. Once you're in, get any civilians in a group as fast as possible. I don't want

any runaways"

The tallest of the men, went outside and ushered in two other men who quickly ran through into the back.

"Right!" shouted the tall man, pacing. "I want you all to stay on the ground with your hands where I can see them at all times. No funny business. If anyone so much as breathes loudly I will shoot you, understand?"

A few muffled whimpers came from the group along with a sob from one of the female cashiers. One of the two men cocked his gun forcing a scream out of her. The tall man chuckled. Circling the group, he checked his watch.

"Briggs, the safe is more than likely going to be guarded by an electrical shock

system. Please for the love of god remember your gloves. I don't want to have

to drag your sorry arse out of there smoking like last time."

"Ha ha, yeah, uh, sorry about that, I won't forget, don't worry."

The cashier, who had begun shaking, crawled forward slightly towards the tall man, looking up.

"Wha- what are you going to do to us?" she quickly lowered her head back down, regretting opening her mouth.

"Well" began the tall man. He knelt down, pulling her shaking head to his. "If you speak again, I'm going to shoot you in the face." the cashier screamed, promptly wrenching her face from his grip before being dragged back towards him with force. "BUT! If you're a good girl, which I'm sure you will be sweetheart, then I'm not gonna do a damn thing" slamming the woman backwards into the counter the tall man returned to circling the group.
Alexandra, still with her head on the ground, counted the seconds go by.
One, two, three, four…

BANG!

Everyone looked up to see the tall man on the floor, bleeding.

"Fuck! Shit!" Get that motherfucker!" he screamed as the bank manager emerged from his office, shotgun in hand, firing towards him. A hostage tried to make a break for it during the commotion before being shot in the head by one of the masked men.
No funny business.
The other shot the bank manager who fell to the floor motionless, quiet.

'Well that wasn't very exciting' Alexandra thought.

Blood was spewing from the tall mans leg whilst he lay writhing on the floor. The crying from the group had gotten louder. Footsteps echoed through the bank as the two men in the back came running into the room, two big satchels each in their arms.

"What the fuck happened here?" asked one of them, bemused.

"That piece of shit shot me!" shouted the tall man, throwing an arm towards the fallen manager "What the fuck does it look like?"

"Alright, alright, lets get out of here, you, grab a hostage."

Alexandra looked up as one of the masked men grabbed her, swinging her around and placing a gun to her head.

"In case you get any ideas about calling anybody." the man stated to the group.
Looks of pity and grief in their eyes at the struggling, terrified girl in his arms.
Quickly they all fled from the building, Alexandra was roughly bundled into the back of their van with two of the men.

She looked up at her kidnappers,

"How the fuck did you forget to check the offices David?" she said playfully, shoving him in the arm.

"Look, Alex, I didn't exactly do it on purpose did I?" he said, clutching his leg.

"I know you didn't, moron. Toby, get us back fast so I can stitch idiot here up."

"Right boss." replied Toby, upping the speed on the van.

As they got back Alexandra grabbed a limping David, dragging Toby behind her up the stairs of her fathers manor house.

"You three go tell my Dad how it went, we're going to clean up David."

"Right."

"Fuck!" exclaimed David. "Be careful Alex." she threw him onto her bed.

"Well." she retorted, rummaging in a drawer in the corner of her room, "If somebody hadn't gotten their self shot they wouldn't be hurting so bad would they?"

Alexandra pulled a syringe out from its packet and gave it to Toby along with some morphine to administer. David began slowly to relax, resting his head back onto the pillow, softening his moans. Making another trip across her room, Alexandra grabbed some needle and thread. The wound wasn't deep, barely a scratch. As she began stitching, Toby quickly turned his head.

"Ha ha ha ha. I would not have pinned you as the squeamish type Toby. You used to be a nurse for Christ's sake." she carried on laughing to herself as she stitched away.

"Yeah, well there was a reason why I quit" he chuckled. David raised his head suddenly, staring intently at Alexandra.

"You know, Alex" he slurred "I think I love you." His head fell abruptly back down onto the pillow, followed shortly by a soft snoring. They both began laughing hysterically.

"Oh my god, Toby. How much morphine did you give the guy?"

"Honestly, I have no idea. I'm a little rusty. I'm gonna let your Dad know how he is." he began towards the door.

"Alright" she called, "Leave him in here for tonight, I'll sleep in one of the empty rooms."

"Hey Dad. Did the guys fill you in?" Alexandra came walking into the living room of her home, where her father had settled down with a drink for the night. Looking at her father her first impression of him wouldn't be criminal. He was a middle-aged, slightly rounded man. His face was young except for the smile lines lining his mouth and eyes. He was one of the nicest men Alexandra had ever met, but a man's got to do what a man's got to do to feed his family he had once said, and it was something he had never resented.

"Yes they did" he replied "Wonder if the operation could have been planned a little better?" Dominic smirked, looking at his daughter who was visibly offended.

"Hey! There was nothing wrong with my plan. My plan was perfect, David is an idiot." Her father laughed at her, she was always defensive about her work. Though she had right to be, she was the best for the job and she knew it. Since he could remember it was her who was the one who was best at fleshing out every single detail, considering every possibility for every potential situation.
She made back ups for her plans.
She made back ups for her back ups.
She was thorough and precise and that is exactly why Dominic Byyrne employed his daughter this way.
Alexandra glared at her father, un-amused.

"Give me a drink, I am worn out" she said slumping on the couch.

"Could you do me a tiny little favour first darling?" Darling? Only when he wanted something. It's a good thing she loved him. "Could you take the dogs out? They need their walk" she smiled at her father as she left the room, guess that drink would have to wait for later, if he hadn't already hovered it all up.

The night air was cool on her skin. It had been an eventful day.
Her mind kept wandering back to the middle aged bank manager and his feeble attempt to defend his money. The man was idiotic, she thought. He couldn't possibly have defended the bank from her group of men single handed and he should of known that.
She felt sorry for the him, she really did, though she tried not to think about his family and the possible children and grandchildren he might have possessed.
At least for them the local news would probably have deemed him a tragic hero.

Sweet, sympathetic lies.

Releasing the dogs from their leashes she settled down on a log just to the side of the path she had been walking. It was a quiet night, besides the sounds of her dogs playing. She sat silently, deep in thought listening to her dogs in the field around her.

SNAP

She heard it, ever so faintly from behind her. She whirled around fast, her hand quick to grasp her knife from its holder on her belt. Her eyes darted around at an inhuman speed.
She knew she had heard something.

SNAP

Again. Behind her. She turned.

SNAP

Someone was messing with her. She could feel their eyes on her. Their laughing eyes. She stiffened, refusing to tremble for their amusement.
Suddenly, without warning, a hand clasped around her mouth, hard and unmoving. An arm came from behind her, just as quick, holding her arms down. They were rock solid and impossible for her to budge. She wriggled frantically. Remembering the knife in her hand she thrust it as hard as she could into the attacker behind her. He grunted as her knife slipped easily into his flesh before slamming something into the back of her head.