A/N - I decided to scrap the idea I had for the huge fic I was planning and just run with this. I don't know if it's where I wanted this to go but we'll see what happens. This basically wrote itself the other day so I took it as a sign and decided to push forward. As always, any reviews/comments are greatly appreciated.

Prologue

He wasn't coming. As her disappointed gaze fell upon the face of the clock for the umpteenth time that night, she fully realised that he wasn't coming. She should have known. Maybe she just didn't want to face up to the reality that his job was more important to him than her. It was a hard pill to swallow. But it was the truth. She knew that now. With a heavy sigh she gulped down the rest of her drink whilst glancing around the room. All her family and friends were here. Her mother insisted on throwing her this stupid birthday party when she had specifically told her that she didn't want one. And now here she was, in a room full of people here for her yet feeling utterly alone because the one person that she actually wanted to be here had more important things to do.

"Screw him," she scoffed, tossing her long blonde hair over her shoulder. And screw everybody else too. She wasn't in the mood to celebrate. Everybody but her seemed to be having a good time. Maybe if she just slipped away nobody would notice. And if she was going to drown her sorrows about her relationship she sure as hell didn't want to do it here. With a plan in her head she subtly tried to manoeuvre her way through the throng of people in the bar. She may have been the guest of honour but she clearly wasn't going to be missed. But as she squeezed past the last person and stepped outside, she completely failed to notice the breathless man that burst through the door at the opposite end to her, his eyes searching for her but coming up short. He walked further into the room and stumbled upon her mother.

"Hey, have you seen Trish?"

"Oh John! You're here! I'm sure she'll be glad to see you. I think she's over there...somewhere!" she pointed in the direction of the bar. His eyes swept over the area but he didn't see her. His stomach clenched nervously. He hadn't meant to be so late but it really was for a valid reason this time. As soon as he heard the news all he wanted to do was rush here and tell her. It looked like that wasn't going to happen. He couldn't see her anywhere. Where the hell did she go?

"He's gone, sir. I'm sorry."

The silence hung in the air for a long time as everybody tried to grasp and comprehend what just happened. Their boss and their leader was dead. It would have massive implications. And the man who would feel the brunt of those implications tried to hide his smile. Finally. Finally he was going to have control of everything he ever wanted. A dead old man was a fair price to pay for absolute power in his eyes. His fists clenched excitedly at his side. An intense wave washed over his body. He could barely contain himself. But he couldn't let anybody know. They would be expecting him to be grief stricken. His face tightened and he let his body relax. He slowly raised his head and nodded grimly at the doctor.

"Thank you."

The same deafening silence lingered as the group just stood there. Randy looked around him at the unreadable faces of his father's most trusted advisors. They all worked for him now. Well, most of them would. He would make them swear their allegiance to him. Anybody that refused would be taken care of, simple as that. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to find the concerned face of Ted DiBiase, his father's right hand man and confidant. They had moved up the ranks together in his grandfather's organization and had stuck together through thick and thin when it passed to his father. They were like brothers. And now he would serve him.

"Are you OK, son?"

"I'm fine," Randy nodded solemnly. "If you don't mind, I think I'm going to head out for a little while."

"Randy!"

He turned around and looked at the other man questionably. "What?"

DiBiase sighed. The poor kid looked empty. He just wanted to be there for him and he didn't think getting smashed was the way to do it. From the looks of things, a bar seemed exactly the place where the new leader of the Orton crime family was headed. He moved closer and placed a reassuring hand on the younger man's shoulder. "If you want to talk, I'm here."

"I don't want to talk about anything, Ted. I just want to get out of here." He bowed his head and put on his best scared little boy face. "Can you...handle things until I...until I get my head around this?"

"Whatever you need, son. Take your time."

With those words of encouragement, Randy left the room and his now deceased father with the intentions of finding a bar and getting wasted. Everybody would think he was drowning his sorrows. In reality, he would be celebrating the fact that he was now the man. And there was no way he would rather celebrate than getting drunk, hopefully with some female company in one of his dad's...in one of his, bars.

The stool wobbled as she got to her feet, her insides wobbling with it. God, she was so drunk. Talk about drinking yourself into a stupor. She felt numb. Mission accomplished. It was what she had set out to do anyways. She didn't want to think about John. How could she when all she felt was anger? The bastard didn't even have the decency to show up at her birthday party. Was that what five years together got you these days? Empty promises and too many nights playing second fiddle to his never ending obsession with making detective. That was his real passion in life, not her. Tonight was just the last straw. It was over between them. Maybe it had been for a while now but she was just too afraid to admit it. She snorted as she tried to turn around, and then winced as her head began to spin. Just then, her eyes connected with those of an intense icy stare. She swallowed uneasily, feeling a little intimidated by the intensity she saw there. The guy would be leering at her if his expression wasn't so focused. There was a hint of determination there too. But determination for what? Despite that, she just couldn't seem to draw her gaze from him. She found herself moving closer, completely entranced by the depth of his stare and the look in his eyes.

Some hours later, as she crept into her empty bedroom and ignored the sick feeling in her gut, she knew all too well what the look in his eyes had been all about. And she regretted every damn second of it.