The day passed quickly. After lunch Daniella went to the shooting range to show her father that she had kept up on her shooting skills. Her father had her test out a few of the weapons from a new shipment he had just received. There was an old-fashioned pistol grip shotgun that she would love to have kept as her own, but it had been purchased by a specific individual. She tried out an automatic rifle, a handheld machine gun that fired two thousand rounds a minute, and a semi automatic pistol made by a company that she had never heard of before. Keeping her skills sharp had been easy. There was a shooting range near the university that the local police had allowed her to use. At first they had agreed to her practicing there as a joke. Apparently they assumed she would come once or twice a year, just enough to be able to renew her pistol permit and be able to hit the broad side of a barn should she ever have to actually draw her weapon. Once they saw her shoot, they made a deal with her that if she would teach one class a month to their trainees, she could come as often as she liked.

Once shooting practice was over, Daniella laid by the pool to read and wile away her afternoon. She took breaks from reading in between chapters to swim and cool off. It was the first time in days she had been by herself. At first she felt bereft and lonely not having one of them by her side. Gradually she became accustomed to her solitude, enjoying being able to do what she wanted without being under the watchful eyes of a hired sitter. She had not talked to Worick all day because he had stuck close to her father's side as if he were his shadow. Nicolas had been nowhere to be found because her father had sent him off to assist with finalizing the amount and packing the Celebrer they would be taking to Cristiano the next day.

Dinner was eaten without her companions or her father. She ate in the kitchen with Eddie, content to hear his constant running monologue about everything that had happened while she was gone. He also informed her of all the latest gossip within the organization, catching her up on all of the really juicy stuff. Eddie always had been worse than any woman when it came to gossip. Being in the kitchen, he seemed to hear and know everything that happened within the household. The men also seemed to view him as a confidante when seeking delicious comfort food to soothe their troubled souls and empty bellies.

After dinner, Daniella retreated to her room to take a shower and read some more before Nicolas came to find her. Tonight it was his turn to stay with her. She was laying on the floor at the end of her bed looking over the sign language book detailing the hand movements for certain phrases when Nicolas walked into the room. On her belly and facing away from the door, she did not see him enter. She was listening to music through her headphones which prevented her from hearing him as well. However, when he had opened the door, a puff of cool air swept over her legs that were bared by her pajama shorts. The movement of air warned her that something had moved in the room. Goose bumps raised on her arms when she sensed his proximity to her seconds thereafter. She could feel his eyes on her which made an uncomfortable tingle form at the base of her spine and slowly creep upward. She pondered if this was what it was like for him, how Nic sensed someone nearby because he could not hear them.

Daniella pulled her knees forward under her to get into a kneeling position before sitting back on her heels. She smiled at Nicolas as he knelt down in front of her, mirroring her sitting position. Taking the book from him that he handed her, she eyed him questioningly as he tapped the cover for her to look at it. It was the book on how speech is formed by the combination of the tongue, teeth, and lips. There was a whole section on how sound is created from the throat in the larynx. She was actually quite interested in getting started on this part as well. Opening the book to the bookmarked page, she skimmed over the chapter that detailed the teaching technique employed by Anne Sullivan, Helen Keller's teacher, who taught her how to talk. Helen Keller was both blind and deaf. At least they only had one physical disadvantage to work with. She lay the book on the floor, leaving it open to the pages of the drawings that depicted the way Helen would place her hands on her teacher's face to feel the vibrations and movement in her throat, nose, and mouth.

Daniella took his big hands in hers, placing one against her throat. He would feel the vibrations of her larynx against his palm. His fingers could almost touch his thumb behind her neck. She took his other hand in hers, laying his thumb over the corner of her mouth and pressing the palm to her cheek. His forefinger lay next to her nose so he could detect the air flow through her nose. The movement of her jaw would be felt under his palm. The placement of his hand was awkward due to the outrageous size of it, his fingers extending upward past her temple and the heel of his hand resting on her jawline. They would make it work for the sake of the experiment.

"Nicolas, can you feel me speaking?" she asked, watching his face. She smiled when he nodded enthusiastically with wide eyes. How fascinating and exciting had this been for Helen Keller who could neither see nor hear? She could not imagine. Not sure what to say, she began reciting random lines she recalled from Shakespearean plays.

"Love is like a child, that longs for everything it can come by," she proclaimed, quoting from The Two Gentleman of Verona. She was glad she had not said that with Worick in the room. He would have been sure to make a remark about that quote being made for her because she was still Daddy's spoiled little girl. Takes one brat to know another was all she could think.

"I would not wish any companion in the world but you," she stated next, speaking the words from The Tempest.

Daniella held Nic's dark eyes when they latched onto hers. Suddenly she could not think of any more quotes or any words at all for that matter. Her lips trembled slightly when his thumb moved across them with feather-light pressure. When his eyes dropped to her mouth, she kept her eyes glued to his, watching them move under the heavy lids and thick eyelashes.

"Talk to me," he requested aloud, keeping his line of vision on her mouth.

"Love all, trust a few, do wrong to none; be able for thine enemy rather in power than use; and keep thy friend under thine own life's key; be checked for silence, but never taxed for speech," she recited, unable to remember what Shakespearean piece this was from. The pad of his finger pressed into the her lips, causing her tongue to brush across it as she spoke. By the way he was concentrating on her mouth, she could tell he was paying close attention to how her tongue moved to form certain sounds. The highly erotic nature of the touch was making it difficult to concentrate on the scholarly aspects of the placement of his fingers.

Daniella paused, her brain struggling to come up with her next words. She closed her eyes to take her attention away from his face that was tense due to paying close attention to her every movement. He looked older and quite handsome; not the pretty kind of good looking like Worick but a masculine comeliness that comes from a square jaw and high cheekbones, giving her a glimpse of the man he would become. She tried to think of something, anything, to say but nothing came to her addled brain.

"Nicolas," she breathed, opening her eyes to look at him. "I don't know what else to say."

"We should get to bed then," he suggested, removing his hands from her face and neck.

That sounded like an excellent idea. Daniella was exhausted from the day and tomorrow could unexpectedly turn into an epic clusterfuck right quick and in a hurry. She put her hand in the proffered one extended to her by the young man who had stood to his feet. When he pulled her to a standing position in front of him, she leaned forward to hug him.

"What is that for?" he asked using his voice since his hands were on her waist.

Daniella leaned back from him so he could see her lips. "Just because."

"Just because," he repeated, his eyebrows drawing together inquisitively.

Daniella smiled at him. Suddenly, he kissed her. She did not have time act surprised because it was over so fast. The kiss was short and innocent. Although she expected him to release her and act as if nothing had happened, he continued to hold her. She forgot how to breathe when he slid his arms around her waist and pulled her closer. Her head fit perfectly under his chin, and her body pressed into his as she encompassed his shoulders with her arms. When his hands cupped her cheeks to tilt her head upward, she closed her eyes in anticipation of his kiss. His lips were soft and sensual; his full lower lip fitting between hers and his upper lip resting just above her top lip. She thought the kiss was over when he lifted his mouth but instead he immediately connected with her again, this time catching her lower lip between his. It was as if he was tasting her lips separately to determine if he liked one better than the other.

Daniella moaned as he continued to kiss her tenderly with his mouth pressed squarely to hers. Her stomach muscles tightened with almost painful intensity when the tip of his tongue tested the slight part between her lips. Her fingers dug into the smooth, warm skin of his shoulders that were bared by his favorite black tank top. His tongue quickly withdrew before going any further. She wondered if he was getting as aroused as she was by the sweet, searching kisses.

"Nicky," she breathed, her lips moving against his. She moaned again when his hand pressed against her throat. She spoke his name once more so he could feel the vibration of her vocal chords.

"I wish I could hear you," he murmured without removing his mouth from hers, making him a little harder than usual to understand him but she received the message loud and clear.

Daniella pulled back from him so he could see her face to read her lips. "Words aren't always the best means of communication. Sometimes actions speak louder than words."

Nicolas dropped his arms from around her body, stepping back from her. Raising his hands, he signed to her, "Do they?"

Daniella could not tell if he was being a smart aleck or being serious. She nodded in wordless affirmation instead, taking his hand in hers. She led him to the bed, sitting down on the side. When he sat down on the floor without letting her hand go, she tugged on his hand while shaking her head.

"Not there. Sleep here," she implored him, patting the bed with her other hand. He shook his head in refusal, looking away from her. "Fine then. I'll come down to you."

Daniella slid from the bed onto the floor, sitting beside him. Nicolas turned his head to look at her, taking hold of her bicep. She stubbornly sat on her butt refusing to move as he tugged on her arm to make her get back on the bed. When he pointed to the bed while frowning darkly at her, it was her turn to shake her head vigorously in resolute rejection of his request to get up from the floor.

"Why?" he asked aloud, keeping his hand on her arm.

"I just want to be close to you," she replied, pulling his mouth back to hers. Although he had been extremely responsive to the earlier kiss, this time his lips remained firmly in place, pressed together in a thin line of annoyance. She pulled back from him to stare at his face hardened with obstinance.

"Why?" he asked again.

Daniella sighed dejectedly. Obviously he was going to turn this into a game of twenty questions, dampening the mood until the moment had passed. She stared at him with a calm, level gaze, holding his dark eyes with hers. He gave nothing away about his emotional state in those limitless eyes. Even the aggravation he had been showing earlier had passed from them.

"What are you afraid of?" she questioned him, taking his other hand in hers. When he jerked his hand from hers, she immediately felt slighted and humiliated.

"Nothing," he gestured with his hands.

Sometimes it's easier to deal with the devil you know than the angel you don't. Her father had spoken those words to her to long ago to explain to her why he continued to stay in the dangerous underworld business of gun and drug trafficking. His words had inexplicably emerged from the recesses of her memory as she stared at the silent, brooding man sitting beside her. Maybe Nicolas rejected her touch because he was simply not accustomed to receiving any type of tenderness.

Nicolas had not been offered many kindnesses and comforts in his life - of that she was certain. That would explain why he chose to sleep on the hard, uncomfortable floor rather than a bed. He still seemed unsure of how to handle any gentleness given to him, particularly an intimate type such as an embrace or a kiss. But he had kissed her first. So why did he quickly spurn her when she reacted positively, returning the gesture? Apparently his past still haunted him ways she could never understand despite wanting to. Then she might understand him better. She only knew bits and pieces of his past from the few cryptic statements Worick had allowed to slip past his defenses. Sometimes it was a good thing that Worick talked too much because he accidentally divulged sensitive information about his and Nic's past. Perhaps he purposely and cunningly leaked the slivers of their past together to interest her into asking about more. With him, it was difficult to discern his intentions.

Nicolas drew her attention when he moved to position his back against the side of the bed as he prepared to go to sleep. Not much bothered him. Not even tense emotional moments. He allowed the stress to slip away from his consciousness as if it had never happened. Daniella envied him for that. There were some emotional wounds that she might have been spared had she been able to allow the events to disappear from her mind. Being a Twilight, his emotions were dulled. But what other psychological damage had he incurred to be so immune to his own feelings?

"Oh, Nicky," she sighed sadly, laying her head on his shoulder. She took his hand in hers, cuddling up next to him.

When he raised up, she became apprehensive that he was going to insist she get into the bed. She watched anxiously as he turned to reach for something on the bed. A smile touched her lips when he grabbed her blanket then turned back to her to lay it over her body. Once he was still again, she resumed nestling her body against his. At least he did not seem to mind getting close to her in some ways. Perhaps one of these days he would permit her to become closer.

~...~


"Wake up, Princess!" Worick yelled, startling her out of a deep, contented sleep.

"Worick! What the hell?!" she screamed when he nudged her behind with his foot.

"What are ya doing on the floor?" he inquired, snatching the blanket off of her.

"AHHHHH!" she shrieked in surprise and aggravation.

"Ooooh, I like those shorts," he commented, bending down to slap her on the butt.

"OW! Would you stop?" she snapped, sitting up straight. She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands to remove the remaining sleep from them. Opening her mouth wide, she yawned loudly while stretching.

"That's attractive sleeping beauty," he muttered, offering his hand to her to assist her with standing up.

"Oh, shut up! No one asked you to come in here to wake me up anyway," she muttered, walking toward the bathroom.

"Well, actually they did," he corrected her, following her right into the bathroom.

"Get out!" she screeched, shoving him back through the open doorway before slamming the door shut in his face and locking it.

"Nic is with your father getting last minute instructions while the car is being loaded," he told her through the door.

"Shouldn't you be there as well?"

"I've already received my orders. Your father is the one who sent me to wake you up."

"So what's the plan for today?"

Worick waited for the toilet to finish flushing before speaking. "I'll be driving a decoy car ahead of you. Nic will be in the car with you. Miles will be in a car behind you."

"Which car will I be driving?" She turned on the shower without waiting for his answer. She was already sure she would be driving her own car. If she had that much protection around her, her father would want her in something fast and unknown to rival gangs who would attempt to intercept the delivery.

This would not be her first time taking part in a drop off so she was not afraid. Actually, her heart fluttered with anticipation, beating so fast she was sure it would pound right through her chest to escape the confines of her body. Dizziness swamped her, forcing her to close her eyes and lean against the tile wall of the shower for stability until the wooziness passed. She had forgotten what it was like to experience the particular kind of adrenaline rush that came with putting one's life in jeopardy. A small taste of that heady surge of the chemical that came along with the fight or flight response had emerged when Nic had drawn his sword and held it to her throat after she had threatened Worick. Could that have been when her interest in Nicolas exceeded the limits of merely being his employer and/or friend? Had that adrenaline dump caused her emotions to run rampant and rush headlong into something more emotionally binding? Most likely.

"Hey, come on! Hurry up in there!" Worick bellowed, beating on the door as if he intended to break it down.

"All right! Keep your pants on!" she hollered back.

"Do I have to?"

Daniella giggled as she scrubbed her body. He had sounded so disappointed, almost forlorn. Jerk. She could not stop smiling. At least her made her laugh from some of his more comical sexual advances. She could not take him seriously enough to be too deeply offended by his come ons. After giving her hair a quick wash, she rinsed off any remaining soap and stepped out of the shower. Her hand stopped abruptly as she reached to flip the lock on the door.

"Worick! I need you to leave so I can come out and get dressed," she told him, waiting for a response.

"Come on out. I won't look," he assured her. He sounded like he was on the other side of her room. What was he doing in there?

"I don't believe you! Get out!"

"How's the sign language learning going?" he inquired.

"Worick! Leave!" she pleaded. She was getting cold, and her father was a stickler for punctuality. He liked working on a tight schedule, usually having everything planned down to the minute to avoid unusual occurrences and to ensure things go smoothly on a delivery to a customer.

"I know you're not the shy type. Come on out," he insisted.

Daniella gritted her teeth emitting a growling sound. She disengaged the lock with her thumb and snatched open the door. Shockingly, he was sitting on her bed with his eyes tightly closed. She walked up to him, waving her hand in front of his face.

"I told you I wouldn't look," he said, unable to see that she jumped when he startled her by speaking.

"You better keep those eyes closed," she returned, moving around the bed to her closet. She stepped inside the huge walk in closet, closing the door behind her after flipping on the light.

"Are you seriously hiding in your closet?"

"Yes, I am!"

Daniella quickly pulled a red spaghetti strapped maxi dress over her head. The mostly baggy dress hugged her unfettered breasts then flowed to her feet in a shapeless long skirt. She could go without a bra but she needed panties and those were outside the closet in her dresser. Oh well, at least she was covered and could slide them on underneath without revealing too much. Inhaling a deep breath, she stepped outside the safety of her closet to retrieve a pair of underwear.

"I'm not some vicious animal, you know. It's not like I'd take you against your will," Worick griped, folding his arms over his chest while glaring at her with aggravated disapproval.

"I'm sure you wouldn't," she shot back, stepping into the red silk panties before shimmying into them while pulling them up her legs. She noticed he did not turn to look at her. He most really be upset with her. Had she genuinely offended him? She plopped down on the bed beside him. "Listen, Worick - "

"We need to go," he announced, hopping off the bed to go to the door.

"Worick," Daniella called, grabbing her gun from the nightstand. On her way toward the door, she stooped in mid run to scoop up her sandals. "Hey, wait!"

"Save it, Daniella!" he snapped in return without stopping and without looking behind him. "I'm not in the mood for any of your bitchy comments."

Daniella picked up her skirt with her hand, holding onto it tightly as she jumped over the five steps to reach the landing below ahead of him. She stepped in front of him, pressing her hand to his chest to stop him.

"I don't feel like doing this right now," he muttered, seizing her wrist to pull her hand away.

"I don't fear what you would do to me should you touch me. I'm afraid..." She paused, sucking in a deep noisy breath. "I'm afraid of what I'd do. I might give into temptation."

"Oh?" A skeptical pale blond eyebrow raised toward his hairline. "Tempted by what?"

What a great time for him to play stupid. Daniella was attempting to have a serious moment, and he was being - HIM. She made a grunting sound of disgust and dropped her hand, spinning on the ball of her foot to walk away from him.

"Dee," he spoke in a low voice right behind her, laying his hand on her shoulder to halt her.

Daniella held her breath, closing her eyes when he slid his arms around her to hold her with her back against his chest. His arms circled her body under her breasts to hold her captive. Him holding her in such an affectionate and intimate way made her want to stay like this. She wanted Nicolas to hold her this way, but would he? God. What was she doing to herself and to them?

"I want you," he whispered, his lips so close his breath tickled her ear and made the muscles along her spine tighten with excitement. "But I know with whom your heart lies. You made your choice. I'm a selfish bastard, Dee, you know that. I want all of you. Or none of you at all."

Daniella inhaled sharply when he suddenly let her go and stepped around her. Her eyes burned with tears as she watched him walk away. She pressed the cool palm of her hand to her hot forehead.

"Dammit, Daniella, you've gotten yourself into one big hell of a mess here," she fussed at herself.

There was no good way out of the tangled she relationship she had created. Strong emotions and carnal desires clashed yet intertwined, drawing her in two different directions at once. She cared for both of them in profoundly conflicting ways. With both she feared the only outcome would be a broken heart for everyone involved. How was she to choose between them? Maybe Worick was correct when he said that Nicolas was incapable of loving her the way she wanted to be but so was he. He was the type of man who would love her wholeheartedly but only for a while until someone else came along and lured his wandering eyes and fickle heart in her direction. Nicolas was an impenetrable fortress of locked away emotions whose walls she might never be able to breach.

"Bitsy!" Miles called as he came up the stairs.

Daniella was still standing on the second floor landing lost in her jumbled thoughts when he found her. She jumped when he touched her, her bleary eyes gradually focusing on his face.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong with you?" he asked, brushing the tips of his fingers across her pale cheek. "Are you feeling up to this today?"

"I'm fine," she assured him, plastering her most genuine fake smile.

"Bitsy," he murmured, hugging her tightly. "Don't lie to me. Never lie to me."

Daniella leaned heavily against him, putting her arms around his waist. His chest was wide and muscular, warm and comforting. It was like hugging a big teddy bear. In the many years he had been a part of the family, he had always appeared at the right time to offer her a consoling hug. She had ran away from him and her father because the memories held in this house had been too much and their loving gestures of solace had been too painful to accept after the incident. They never knew she blamed herself for everything, for not seeing Romeo for what he was and allowing him to nearly tear the Monroe organization apart. She had been weak and permitted her baby to die because she could not handle the grief over a man who did not deserve her tears. That whole disaster had been her doing and no one else's.

"You've gotten yourself into another bad situation haven't you?" he questioned her in a voice filled with concern - and pity.

Daniella nodded against his chest. If she dared to speak the words out loud, it might burst the dam that was barely holding back her tears of frustration. She was annoyed with herself.

"Hey, suck it up, buttercup. Put on your big girl panties, and do what you gotta do," he told her, cupping her chin with his large hand to turn her face up so he could see it.

Daniella could not be angry with him when she saw the wide grin of amusement on his face. "I do have my big girl panties on. They're red."

His cheeks flooded with color giving him an instantly sunburned appearance. He pulled her to his chest, embracing her tightly. "You're so awful sometimes. But I love you anyway."

"I'm sure glad someone does," she mumbled, squeezing his wide body as tightly as her arms allowed. Him and her father were the only two men who always loved her unconditionally, most often despite herself.

"Hey," he said cheerfully, pulling her back at arm's length to look at her. "I'll take you to the Starlight Cafe tonight. We can eat dinner and share a hot fudge sundae afterward. It will be like old times. It will be good for you to get away from those two bodyguards of yours."

"Can I get the honeyed pecans on top of the sundae?" she asked, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

"Of course you can, sweetheart. And you don't have to butter me up to get it either. Stop that unless you have something in your eye," he admonished her playfully.

"All right, it's a date then," she agreed happily.

"A date huh? Won't your boyfriends be jealous?" He laughed when she rolled her eyes and snorted like a grumpy pig.

"Please don't call them that."

"Sorry, I couldn't help myself. We need to go. Everyone is waiting."

Daniella took his hand as they walked down the stairs together. She swung their hands between them as if they were children taking a casual stroll in the park. They walked out of the front door to the half circle driveway where the three cars were parked.

Worick leaned against the lead car, a plain black sedan with tinted bulletproof windows. Her black sports car was pulled in behind it. The windows were tinted but not bulletproof. Miles would be driving the tank; the black, luxury coupe covered in armored panels that was usually reserved for when her father attended meetings of the Four Fathers.

"You're taking a large shipment of Celebrer to the Cristiano's. This shit has become more prized and profitable than cocaine. We are the only suppliers here," her father explained, although she had not asked as to why the extra security was needed. "Others have tried to break into the Celebrer market and failed."

Daniel Monroe pulled the cigarette that had been smoked down to the filter from his lips and crushed it under the heel of his shoe. Daniella could not help but wonder if that was a less than subtle physical representation of what he did to those who attempted to invade the territory he had secured for himself.

"I'm making sure your boy gets his supply," he informed her, nodding his head toward Nicolas who was standing on the other side of her car at the passenger's side. "He'd die without it. He's going to die young anyway. Tags don't have a long life span. One of their own kind usually kills them long before the drug ever does."

Daniella's chest constricted, and breathing became exceedingly difficult. Having grown up in Ergastulum, she was acquainted with Tags and the brevity of their harsh lives. She knew about Celebrer too. Hearing her father speak about it in such a blunt manner had been unsettling. Her eyes met Nicolas's briefly then dropped to the ground. She had chosen to overlook certain truths about him because they hurt too much. Being confronted with them, especially at this given time, had been unexpected.

"Aren't we all in danger of dying before our time? Yours is by choice father. You put a target on your own back because of the dangerous and competitive business you have built into a criminal empire," she said, acid lacing her voice. She took a glimpse at her father then shifted her eyes to Nicolas. "He had no choice in the matter."

"You can be a sharp tongued devil just like your mother," her father commented. "But you're also an incredibly smart woman who has spoken the truth."

"Daddy, I don't think I'll be returning to university," she confessed.

"You know nothing will make me happier than for you to stay. But stay for the right reasons. I can think of two very wrong ones to stay for," he stated in a cautionary, almost accusatory, tone.

Daniella shifted her gaze from one wrong reason with shaggy blond hair to the other wrong reason who was standing with his sheathed katana propped against his shoulder, then turned to look at her father. "I'll be going now."

"Itsy Bitsy, be careful," he said, pulling her into his arms for an embrace. "Come back safely."

"I will. I have three of your best men protecting me," she proclaimed with pride, returning his embrace.

"Take this," he told her, handing her the pistol grip shotgun and a box of ammunition. "You were quite good with this in practice yesterday."

"But you said - "

"Yeah, I worked out a deal. Happy early birthday."

Her birthday was not for another eight months. Christmas would come before her next birthday arrived. Whatever. Daniella gratefully took the gun from him. She had wanted the weapon after firing it yesterday. Having her hands full with a gun in each hand, she held the box of shotgun shells to her body with her arm. Once she got to her car, she leaned in through the open window to prop the shotgun against the console. Reaching under her skirt, she strapped her trusty handgun to its usual place on her thigh.

"Ready?" she asked Nicolas, receiving one quick nod in return. "Let's go."

Daniella dropped into the the driver's seat taking a steadying breath. Her last drop was performed at least seven years ago. She hoped she had not lost her edge. Taking one more glimpse at her father, she could not help but think he was testing her, jumping right back into grooming her to take over the family business.

The road to The Bastard had never seemed so lengthy and desolate. Thankfully, they did not encounter any vehicles. No words passed between her and Nicolas. He would not be able to see her face to read her lips, and she could not take her hands from the wheel to use sign language. They were both too busy keeping a look out for suspicious movement. The car ride became even more tense when they entered the narrow streets of the city. There was no way to make a fast escape should someone decide to lay a trap for them. A vehicle could rush them from one of the numerous side streets, disabling her vehicle by purposely crashing into it. The vehicular bum rush would occur at a super high speed in an extremely confined area which would most likely kill her and Nic making it easier to steal the drugs. Two of their men had died in an incident like that in an ambush orchestrated with the assistance of the two faced Romeo.

The streets of the city had never looked so forbidding. Every person walking by could be an assassin laying in wait. Every car that passed them could be full of rival gang members waiting to shoot them. Despite all of the possible dangers, Daniella did not feel afraid. She had complete confidence in the men around her. She was also self-assured in her own skills with a gun and trusted her instincts. Neither one had failed her. Except once.

"Let it go. God, let it go," she muttered to herself. Almost there, she thought to herself as she turned onto the street where The Bastard was located.

A group of men loitered on the corner at the end of the block. Daniella recognized some of the men as the ones she had seen on the street near Granny Joel's on her first day back in Ergastulum. She identified one of them as the man who had violently pushed the hooker against the wall. They had no reason to be here except to cause trouble. She reached for the shotgun which alerted Nicolas to be ready.

The three cars parked beside the curb directly in front of the den of debauchery that would be empty of customers at this time of day. The working girls would be asleep upstairs in preparation for staying awake all night. Except for a few of the bar employees and Luca Cristiano himself, the bar would be deserted.

Daniella sat in her car until Miles and Worick appeared to stand at the front and back end of her car. They withdrew their guns from the holders under their jackets holding them in clear view as a silent warning to the hoodlums down the street. She reached into the backseat to grab the briefcase that served as an example of the goods. If Luca was satisfied with the shipment, he would send his men out to retrieve the rest that filled her trunk. She grasped the handle of the case so tightly her knuckles grew white. With Miles in front, Nicolas beside her, and Worick behind her, they entered the darkened club. A few small table lamps imparted a light golden glow that led them into the bar. Luca was standing at the bar talking to Galahad about what kind of wine to order.

"Bitsy, my darling god daughter," Luca Cristiano greeted her warmly, giving her a hug and a kiss on each cheek.

"Uncle Luca," she returned rather formally.

"I'm glad to see you made it here without a problem." He took the briefcase from her, sitting it on the bar. After opening it, he pulled out a little brown plastic bottle with a white cap that looked like a normal prescription bottle from a pharmacy and tossed it to Galahad. "Here. I know you have been out of your medication for three days. Take it."

"You can take the money from my next paycheck, boss. Thanks." Galahad opened the bottle pouring several of the pills into his palm without counting them. He tossed them into his mouth and swallowed them dry while pouring himself a shot of vodka.

"Don't worry about it. You're one of the greatest assets I have. You need to take better care of yourself," he kindly chastised the young man. He turned his attention to Daniella. "Did you come across any unsavory characters?"

"There's some trash at the end of the street that should be cleaned up," she advised him, taking the glass of cherry coke from Galahad. "You remembered. Thank you."

"You don't seem like the kind of lady who would want a drink this early in the day," he returned, grinning at her.

"Galahad, would you like to have a workout? It's been a while hasn't it?" Luca inquired, reaching across the bar for the vodka and a short tumbler.

"Sure has been a while, boss. I'd welcome a workout," he said, drying his hands on a small bar towel. He took off his long white apron and laid it over the bar, winking at Daniella. "Hang on to that for me, would you?"

"Sure thing, big boy," she returned, returning his smile. Turning around on the bar stool, she was stunned to see the angry. jealous blue eye fixed on her face. Tilting her chin at a haughty angle, she took a swig of her drink to diminish the dryness from her throat. "Worick, take Nic and help Galahad out. With the three of you, it should be an even fight."

"But there's nine of them," Worick protested, his eye narrowing as his anger flared. "How is that even?"

"Because I have faith in you," she said, sliding from the bar stool to sidle over to him. She placed her hand against his cheek, standing on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. "You two can handle this. I want my father to know what you two are really capable of." She kissed his cheek, hearing his sudden intake of air. "Go get 'em, tiger."

"Yes, ma'am," he responded dutifully, waving to Nicolas to come with him.

Nicolas paused momentarily as he stood in front of her, fixing his eyes on her with a cold glare. Daniella dropped her eyes to the floor to avoid looking into his. When she thought he was going to pass by her without saying or doing anything, she felt his warm hand enclose hers that hung limply at her side. After giving it a gentle squeeze, he walked away without a word to follow Worick. She smiled. Actions really did speak louder than words - especially for him.

"Should I go with them?" Miles inquired, putting his hand on her shoulder as she stared at the empty air they had left in their wake.

"No. I want you to stay right here." Daniella immediately became aware of the tension in her shoulder when he squeezed it. Her stomach twisted into knots of apprehension. She had not wanted to send them out, but it was a part of good customer service and a common courtesy among business partners in their chosen professions. She also knew it was important to show a unified front with a comrade when facing a foe that could endanger them both. It always helped to gather favors from friends that would inevitably prove to be useful in the future. She would also like to know exactly what her boys were capable of accomplishing.

So they waited. Minutes passed by with only the ticking of the clock on the wall and ice cubes clinking in their glasses to fill the otherwise noiseless void. When Miles went to the door to look outside, she did not stop him. Neither did she get up to go see what was going on for herself. She started as if she had been shot when a gunshot went off followed by two more in rapid succession. It had sounded like harmless pops from a firecracker, but she knew better. She set her glass down on the bar before she dropped it from her trembling hands.

"Do you need this?" Luca extended the bottle of vodka to her.

"No. I'm fine." She poked at the melting ice cubes in her glass with her straw.

"I'm impressed, Daniella. I believe you've become the woman your father always wanted you to be."

"I'm not sure that's a compliment."

"Neither am I."

The silence extended between them once more. The front door opened with a squeak, breaking the silence. Daniella hopped from her bar stool and ran to the foyer.

The three brawlers walked inside as if they were conquering soldiers returning from a battle. Their clothes were spattered with blood and tiny red dots were sprinkled across their faces which had incurred minor injuries of bruises and cuts. Their fists were scraped and caked with blood. Nicolas held his katana pointed toward the floor creating a trail of blood droplets as he made his way into the bar.

Daniella visibly deflated with relief, allowing her chin to drop forward to her chest and her taut shoulders to release and fold inward. She murmured to herself, "They're all right. I'm so proud."

"I'll have some of my guys dispose of the trash for you boys. Good job. I'll buy you a drink for your troubles," Luca offered, going behind the bar to serve the drinks himself. "Bitsy! You want that drink now? I'll make you something light. How about a Cosmopolitan? It's got cranberry juice in it. That makes it good for you right?"

"Yeah, sure. We'll go with that."

Daniella sat down between Nicolas and Worick at the table where they had all gathered. She raised the drink to her mouth, not even tasting it as it passed her lips. The sting of the alcohol was unmistakable though. Good for her huh? She mindlessly stirred the red liquid with the tiny plastic sword that skewered a cherry. Alcohol was like poison but a type that went down so easy and people drank willingly without a second thought. Glimpsing at the young men sitting on either side of her out of the corners of her eyes, she realized she liked poisons of all kinds. She finished off her drink, reveling in the warmth that filled her belly and started to radiate throughout her body. Everything was better with a little drop of poison despite the fact it might just kill you.