Author's Note: So, despite my forever-absence, we still have three whole years to kill before Steve comes into the picture, and I'm kind of running out of ideas on what to do with Victoria until then. So if anybody has any ideas that they want to throw at me, it'd be much appreciated!


Review response time!

ShootingStar02: Yay! Thank you so much! I'm so glad you like it! :D

SmileYouLiveLonger: Sorry this took so long, and I apologize that it's not very good... But here ya go!

KexyKewl: Sorry that the chapter didn't live up to its full potential! This one's not going to be much better, but I hope you don't completely hate it(:

Mason and Alex: Enough to wait over half a year for it? I hope? Hahaha. C:


Chapter 6: One Month Later

"No, Johnny, I—" the man at the desk glanced up at me dubiously and snapped his cell phone shut as I approached. He let out an appreciative whistle as he said, "Damn. What's a girl like you doing down in these parts?"

My hair— which I'd dyed jet-black in fear that it'd turn the same blood-red shade as Murlough's had been— fell in my face as a deceptively innocent grin spread across it. To add to the effect, I brushed a stray lock out of my face and took another step closer to him. "A girl like what, Vinnie?"

My whole good-girl routine lost complete credit as soon as he heard me mention his name. His face showed momentary shock at my knowledge of his identity, but it was soon replaced by coyness. I could see in his eyes that he'd decided I was no threat; at worst a fellow gangster's daughter sent to negotiate or at best a corporate prostitute. His expression smoothed out as he answered with an even, "Clean-cut. Wholesome."

I let out a laugh and showed off my winning smile once again, turning up the charm in order to keep him enticed. "Contrary to popular belief, I'm not cookie-cutter Barbie doll." I kept up the façade as I took a seat in the chair across from his desk. "I'm Vic. Aspiring hit man."

His eyebrow immediately shot up in disbelief, displaying his opinion on what I'd said. He thought that every word coming out of my mouth that bullshit. His former assumptions were replaced with ones less in my favor; I was either some hopeless kid, or just trying to fuck him over. "Oh, yeah? And exactly how many skeletons are in your closes, Vic?"

I decided against answering his inquiry directly, settling instead on playing his game for a little bit. "So your hit men stopped calling you back, huh? Ever wonder why? Why they're not calling, why they don't show up when they're supposed to… And your clientele. It's just depleting faster and faster, isn't it?"

He shifted in his seat uncomfortably, signifying that my rhetorical questions had taken the toll they were intended to. "What're you getting' at, Vic?"

"All my handy-work," I answered simply, having decided to cut to the chase rather than beat around the bush any longer. "I kill bad people. Murderers, rapists… People like your men." I got to my feet, leaning forward so that my forearms rested on his desk. My face was mere inches from his as I added a soft, "You wanna be top dog around here? Sic me on the competition. They'll never have a chance."

Vinnie's face was conflicted, displaying his inner struggle on whether to let his intimidation or testosterone reign as the driving force in his brain. He finally decided not to close the gap between our faces and instead backed down, sitting against his chair and separating us. He didn't once break eye contact as he informed me, "You drive a hard bargain, kid. Especially being as you killed all my best men."

I shrugged and sat again, leaning backwards in the seat in order to get more comfortable. I folded my arms over my chest and propped my feet up on his desk as I commented drily, "What can I say? I'm a real go-getter."

He paused for a moment, debating how to proceed with the conversation. His frown deepened as he scrutinized my facial expression and asked the question that I had been waiting for since I posed my offer: "What do you get out of it?"

"Like I said, I kill bad guys. Not innocent people. I can help you rob banks, kidnap for ransom, destroy the competition… I'll make you top dog. The only criminals I let live will be the ones working for you." I held up a finger and added, "Unless they hurt people who don't deserve to be hurt. I'll slaughter anyone who does it, whether they're on our side or not."

He leaned forward on his elbows in order to study my face even further . His eyes looked directly in my eyes as he asked a simple, "And if I decline?"

I shrugged once again, showing my indifference to the issue. I pretended to ponder his question before responding slowly, "I suppose I could just kill you right now and continue on how I've been. But that seems like such a waste, don't you think?"

Vinnie's teeth closed around his bottom lip as he mulled over all that had been said. After a few moments, he let out a heavy sigh and said aloud, "I suppose I don't have much of a choice, now, do I?"

"Not unless you want your body to wind up being found on the outskirts of town," I agreed.

His lips pressed together and retracted inside of his mouth. He finally nodded and decided, "Alright, Vic. You got a deal." He reached into his desk in order to pull out a gun, which he then slid across the desk to me. "Consider yourself hired."

I stopped it with my hand in order to push it back over to him. In my year with Murlough, most of which was spent during his mad days, I hadn't learned much about the ways of our people other than the most basic rules. And the first one I'd been taught, the most important one, was not to use projectile weapons. They were cowardly, and to even just carry one would be a disgrace. Vinnie was staring at me blankly, so I decided to explain, "I like getting my hands dirty."

I could see his mind working backwards, going back to the first impression he'd made of me. Not that I was innocent— that ploy had long gone— but that I was a slut. His for the taking. "Yeah," he agreed with a glint in his eye, "I'll bet you do."

Vinnie's stare remained on my face, and I took the opportunity to send as many cold vibes as physically possible. After a few moments of my constant scowling, he seemed to get the picture that he was the only one of us interested in doing anything. He broke our eye contact and reached into his desk in order to pull out a large manila envelope. He shoved it across the table at me, just like he had done a few moments ago with his gun. "While you're here, you might as well pick up on some slack," he said simply. "There's this guy, Rio. From New Orleans. Great guy, real nice family. Wife and two kids."

I opened the envelope and stared at the guy's mug shot skeptically. He had blood on his temple, and his left eye had been swollen shut. He was, however, still flashing his movie-star-white teeth at the camera as if it was a family portrait. "Seems it," I commented drily, looking him over a few more times. I glanced back up at Vinnie to ask, "So, what am I doing? Busting him out? Because don't think I won't do my homework on him. I will."

"Everything you need to know is in the envelope," he retorted in a way that made it clear I was grating on his nerves. He leaned back in his chair comfortably before going on to add, "His rap sheet's clean as a whistle. Worst offense he's committed is jaywalking."

I cocked an eyebrow at him skeptically, wondering whether or not Vinnie actually expected me to believe what he'd just said. Due to his unchanging facial expression, I quickly reached the conclusion that he did and posed what I considered to be a fair question: "Then what the hell's he in prison for? It doesn't look like he's just going in for a conjugal visit."

Vinnie's head snapped upright in order for his eyes to glare directly into mine. It was pretty clear that I'd hit a nerve there. "He's my brother. He helped me out a couple years back and now the world's out to get 'im for it."

I paused to consider the revelation before nodding my head in agreement. He didn't seem to be lying; though he was undoubtedly skilled in the art of untruths, there was a difference between his voice now and before when he was playing with me. "He even gone on trial yet?"

"No, they're just holding him for now." His face completely shut down, and I couldn't tell whether he was on the verge of a breakdown or about to put a bullet through my skull. His voice was steel as he demanded, "You gonna help him or not?"

"Why should I?" I retorted, not one to get pushed around. If he was going to turn on me, I needed to know now. And even if he wasn't, I needed to know where I stood anyways. Besides; I don't get pushed around. Not anymore. Now, I do the pushing.

"I can't—" Vinnie's voice broke, revealing the reason for his newfound hardness. He paused to regain his control before continuing, "I can't let 'im stay in there. D'you know what they do to guys in jail? It ain't a place for him. He don't belong in prison. They'll wreck him."

I nodded and stood, holding Rio's file in my hand. I caught Vinnie's gaze, which displayed all of the broken hope he was holding. I rolled my eyes at his expense, refusing to reveal that the amount of compassion he held for his brother actually moved me. "You'll have 'im here by morning."


A/N: I cut this chapter short because I wanted to finally give you guys something. I'm not quite sure what to do next chapter— probably Victoria going to get Rio, I dunno— but we'll see. I make no promises on when I'll update again, because I honestly have no clue when I will. But I'll try to make it at least relatively soon.