Beyond Masks and Fish Nets

by Starswim

'You're a lifesaver, Sal' those were a mother's last words before leaving her daughter under Uncle Sal's care. He raised her as his own and taught her all to know about Gotham's dangers. All the years of discretion, Mia Marinus is caught in Black Mask's net. Many men go fishing all of their lives without knowing that it is not fish they are after. Roman Sionis/OC

2. Chapter 1: This Provincial Life

Chapter 1: This Provincial Life

Disclaimer: read prologue

A/N: Thank you, readers, for taking the time to read and/or add this story to your list. Just to forewarn you, again, this story is the darker version of Beauty and the Beast, and there are some pieces in this chapter that could trigger some of you (like child abuse) so proceed with caution.

Fourteen years ago, Mia believed that her life wasn't going to get better after losing her parents and staying with her uncle. Fourteen years later, she felt the opposite. That night wasn't a curse but a blessing in away.

Her padre's death was a tragedy. Mia learned that much on her tenth birthday. She was sure that many other children - old and young - suffered the same fate as her. Others' fate may have been worse than her father's, like being found dead on the street like roadkill, destined to be forgotten by society. Luigi was a foolish man growing up. A gambler addict, drowning in illegal acts, debts, and an overbearing wife who would care less about anyone, he wouldn't be able to give his daughter the life that she needed. He thought he could end it all just by going to a corrupted officer.

The day, when Detective Montoya showed up, Mia told her what occurred at the decaying neighborhood that night. There was not much to say. She remembered helping her padre count the pennies from his pocket until there was a knock on the door. Instead of answering the visitor first, Papa carried his child inside the closet like he and Mommy did every other night. There were some rare times when Papa would take her out for ice cream until Mommy was done with 'company.'

Mia didn't understand the term until she cracked the door at age six. One peek outside, scared the poor girl to death. She didn't understand it. Why would a shirtless stranger be doing on her parents' bed? Better yet, why was Mommy letting him climb on top of her and wearing only a bra. Where were her panties? Papa told Mia never to let strangers look or touch her private parts. Why was Mommy breaking that rule? Mia asked Mommy the next morning, only to earn a spanking from Papa's belt with no explanation. After that, Mia learned the routine when coming inside the closet. Stay inside, don't open the door, play with her dolls, and make sure the volume on her music was up to the max.

Mia believed that night was no different until something extraordinary happened. Her mother let her child out of the closet and held her like a lifeline. She told Mia to cover her eyes, for there was a surprise for her. Mia wanted to believe she was getting an early Christmas gift. However, the rare tone in Mommy's voice silently told the child to be prepared. Mia thought she had done something wrong. Why else would her parents abandon their child? Looking back, Mommy didn't want Mia to see the bloody massacre in the living room. There were so many unwanted feelings; Mia didn't know how to feel. Her guidance counselor assured Mia that it was natural to feel resentment towards her parents for their mistakes.

"You can't control your family's actions, but only you have the remote to control your own."

Uncle Sal and Renee Montoya took the child to the police station, had her explain the vague details to Patrick Erickson. He believed that she didn't know anything about her mother's whereabouts or her father's dealings with the mob either. She was a child, after all. What kind of parent would involve their children in legal messes? If Patrick Erickson did work for Sionis, and he gave the boss the okay, then all would stand down. Killing innocent children was bad for business anyway. A dead man should be a big enough message to stay out of the way. Luigi was merely a pawn - a forgettable causality in the crime world.

Child Protective Services allowed Uncle Sal to have custody over Mia. It was goodbye to the Narrows, and hello to East End. This section of Gotham had poor neighborhoods and shops like filthy Narrows. However, at East End, the people were more welcoming, the streets had color, and it's the place where Sal made Mia's childish dreams become a reality.

Sal had enrolled Mia into school. It was a significant adjustment at first, because of the awkward interactions and the many years of no social contact. Mia talked to a speech therapist and a guidance counselor to improve her social and speaking skills, resulting in friendships that don't come from plastic dolls or cotton animals. Over time, she attended birthday parties and sleepovers. Mia participated in Easter egg hunts, girl scouts, and Bible study groups at Gotham Cathedral. When Mia reached puberty, she joined the swim team, more for fun and a stress reliever than the competition. If only her parents put their child's needs first. Looking back, Mommy didn't want to participate in anything unless it benefited herself. Papa was working all day; he wouldn't have time to watch his daughter race.

The uncle was a generous man but had a thicker spine compared to Papa. He had no problem holding anything back when it comes to teaching Mia the cruel reality of Gotham. The city wasn't Disney World. People could get away with any wrongdoing - rape, rob, or kill - as long as you don't get caught by the Caped Crusader himself. Sal would sit the girl down every morning before school for an additional elective called 'Criminal Profile 101'. For each bad guy, Sal took note and presented these people in lessons for Mia - their actions, strengths, weaknesses, allies. The girl trained to prepare when she and Sal have any of them as customers.

When Sal signed the custody papers, he knew it was best to ditch the hotdog business and start cooking up a weekly salary at a bodega. Many years of loyalty, the owner retired down south but not before handing Sal the key to the shop plus the apartment upstairs, changing the name to Sal's Deli. The new owner/manager hired Mia as a cashier/inventory clerk to teach her responsibility. Many memorable customers come into the store. Some come in to buy something when it turned out they wanted information or cash from the register. The rare ones were major criminals like Joker's girlfriend. She was one of Sal's favorite regulars, always come in every morning for the perfect egg sandwich. Neither uncle or niece knew what gained Harley Quinn's attention. Many sandwich places could make it better with fresh cheese and less greasy bacon. Maybe it was the store's cheaper cost or the added hot sauce. As long as he made Harley happy, there shall be no bullets in the market by Mistah J. One customer became Mia's high school sweetheart - Nicholas.

The boy played recreational baseball at Gotham City park. Mia and Sal sometimes volunteered to work the concession stands to bring in business. Nick and his friends come in before a game to buy energy drinks and peanuts. Sometimes, Mia would take a moment of her time to watch him play. Nicholas didn't go to the same school as Mia but joined the Catholic Church every Sunday. He lived on the busy streets in Midtown. His father worked as a stockbroker while his mother was a nurse - they divorced. Mia had a massive crush on Nick for five months but must remain professional behind the counter. Sal always taught her not to mix business with pleasure. One day on Valentine's Day, Mia was cleaning Sal's grill, sweat dripping down her flushed face. That's when Nick came inside the bodega to surprise Mia with a dozen roses and a cheesy dinner invitation to Al's diner. There was hesitation on Mia's part. She honestly didn't know what to say, but hesitantly agreed once she received Sal's blessing. Two movie dates, a romantic walk through the park, and fun games at the pizza arcade, they officially became boyfriend and girlfriend for five years.

Mia graduated high school, making her new family proud. The close neighbors and friends celebrated with a fiesta. However, volunteer work, swimming, and good grades didn't guarantee a scholarship or admission to Gotham University. Rumor has it; the school accepted the unqualified wealthy kids like the other universities that took part in the grand college scandal. So far, that rumor hasn't been proven yet. Even if Mia did get accepted, she couldn't afford the tuition fee. Her dreams of becoming a social worker to help the abused and neglected kids would have to wait.

She must find some other way to give back, starting with her uncle. His long time dream was to earn enough money to take a real family vacation down at Miami Beach, where the sun heats his face for real, not like the pretend camping trip on the roof. Mia had never gone outside the city, only pictures from history books. When she swims at the public indoor pool at the World Gym, Mia pretended to be the Little Mermaid, dreaming about the ocean and its creatures. She could never stop staring at the cold waters when passing the bridge. How far does the water go? How deep is it? How beautiful are the waves up close? Nicholas showed her the river below, exposing its filthy secrets - broken bottles, plastic everything, and mixed oil that killed the fishes. It broke the girl's heart to see how the waters became a representation of the city's sins - beautiful on the outside, but ugly within. Was Miami's ocean the same way? Maybe when she and Sal get there, it could help her decide whether to retire in the grand escape, bringing Sal and Nicholas with her.

~000~000~000~

Mia pulled her head out of the waters, returning to the concrete lands. She showered and dressed, exiting through the back door where the gym's janitor was standing. He was cleaning floors, but his shifted eyes showed a sleazy purpose.

"Thanks, Dimitri," Mia whispered, handing him the five dollar bribe to get in. Gym memberships were costly, and thankfully, this man could help a friend's niece for only a dollar every half hour.

He shoved the money in his pocket, showing off his missing-teeth smile as he opened the door for her.

"Tell your uncle I said, 'hello,'" he called out with a slurred accent, "Tell him I'm looking forward to our meeting tonight!"

"I will. See you next week!" The twenty-one-year-old used the remainder of her paycheck to take a taxi ride back to East End. She walked down the sidewalk, greeting friendly neighbors, politely waving at passing cars as she crossed the street, and ducking down the offenders. If the latter tried to talk to her, she'd shift in defense mode by speaking Spanish. If they could understand her, she moved on to phase two, claiming to have an aunt who is a cop - that was the scare tactic needed to put the perverts and thieves in their place. If that didn't work, she'd have to move on to phase three, which didn't happen yet.

When she passed the neighborhood with kids playing the fire hydrant, Mia called out her former neighbor - Juan, a soaking-wet ten-year-old in swim trunks. He was Marco's son, Sal's close friend. He's also the little brother of Mia's former close friend - Ella Ramirez, the quirky animal lover, a bug collector, and has a snake for a pet. Best friends until high school graduation when she left to study and heal the wildlife in Africa. Juan was the next best thing, no matter the age and gender.

"I brought you something from the gym's mini garden," Mia unzipped the front pocket of her backpack, revealing a zip block bag of a plucked vine with purple leaves and a matching mini bloom in the middle.

The boy's eyes widened in amazement, a matching resemblance to Ella when she comes across the strange, legged creatures. "Whoa! They planted that?!" He freed the flower from its bag to inspect it closer by smell and touch. "Do you know what this is?"

Mia shrugged, "I don't know, Juan, suppose you tell me."

"It's a Purple Heart! They are very rare!"

"You say that to all the plants I picked for you."

"This is different, Mia! This spiderwort only grows when there's sunlight. Do you know how rare it is to get a tan in this city? Mama has no luck."

"Wow! That is amazing! Dios Mio," Mia shook her head, utterly astonished. "Does that mean you're going to add it to your collection?"

Juan was about to respond until he spotted the six-foot teen, five years older than him, standing by the entrance - George Ramirez, the troubled middle child of the family. The bully was sneaking a cigarette without the parents' notice. The teenager studied his little brother intently, questioning Mia from afar.

"What are you doing with my little brother, Esmerelda?"

Juan quickly stuck the plant in the waistband of his trunks. The little boy warned her what could happen if George finds his little brother's flower collection. He would give the boy a hard time, worse than the time Juan painted his nails yellow. The tooth fairies awarded the boy one dollar.

"Just passing through, George," Mia replied, forcing a tight-thin smile.

The older boy chuckled, taking a drag of his smoke. Both the woman and the younger kids knew that telling George not to smoke is like commanding the Joker to act sane. He would respond in many different ways that could lead to either a splitting headache or a black eye.

"Why leave?" George challenged Mia. "I can take you up my room, and we could have all sorts of fun. My parents don't know about my stash."

It took Mia all her might not to snap back for the sake of Juan. George knew that she has a boyfriend who could kick his ass with a baseball bat. She hissed out a polite decline, ruffling the boy's helmet head as she continued her path down the sidewalk.

"Bye, Mia!" Juan waved. The woman reciprocated the goodbye, ignoring the heating gaze of the fifteen-year-old.

"Puta perra (fucking bitch)," George grumbled, inhaling the smoke.

~000~000~000~

"¿Cómo es tu baño, cariño? (How is your swim, sweetheart?)" Sal flipped hamburger meat on the grill.

"Same as usual, Sal," Mia responded, clocking in for her shift behind the counter, putting her hair up in a high ponytail. "By the way, Dimitri dice que está deseando que se reúnan esta noche (Dimitri says hello and is looking forward to the meeting tonight)."

"Si, todos los chicos están deseando pasar el rato esta noche (all the boys are looking forward to hanging out tonight)," Sal handed a man his order, exchanging thank you's and change before the man left.

"Where the boys heading off to this time?" Mia asked.

"Cobblepot's palacio helado (freezing palace)."

Mia whirled around in disbelief, "Su congelador? (His freezer) I never in a million years thought you'd be going in there."

"Dimitri wanted a different atmosphere. Last week was his birthday."

"But Cobblepot is dangerous, isn't he?" Mia headed to the back, holding a clipboard attached to a list of items in the crook of her arm.

"Define dangerous?" The pressing tone in his voice told her it was review time.

Mia sighed, opening the pantry to check off inventory, "They call him the 'Gentleman of Crime.' He appears as a legitimate club owner (just like every other 'secret' mob boss in town)."

"Continuar?"

"But in reality, he's a local arms dealer who sells weapons from the black market. He is a greedy, ignorant man who only cares for money, competent brains, and brainless brawn (in that particular order). If you work for him, don't expect fair pay. He'll cheat you by ten percent. He doesn't have the patience to deal with complications. He uses that killer umbrella of his as a problem solver. He is not stupid but doesn't understand different languages, such as Spanish. None of which his employees can speak at this time."

"So how can you avoid Penguin's conversation?"

"Pretend not to understand him, he won't pay mind, except make a few derogatory remarks, and... is that expired cheese?" Mia picked up an open package of sliced cheese to check the expiration date. She whirled around to face her uncle in disbelief. He whistled while casually cleaning the grill.

"Sal, don't tell me that you're serving rotten produce again?"

"It's not moldy. If something looks and smells good, it tastes good. I taught you that, remember?"

Mia pointed at the bolded date angrily, "Yeah, two weeks out of date! Not six! It's disgusting!" Against the uncle's protest, she dumped the cheese in the trash can.

"You know it's going to stink if you leave it in there, right?"

Mia sighed, unwrapping each sliced cheese from the garbage and dumped into the sink, initiating the garbage disposal and faucet.

Sal shook his head in dismay, "Such a waste."

"You should feel lucky not to have a lawsuit in your hands, cause one of those days..." she trailed off, raising her hands in surrender.

"Nah, they can't prove shit."

After clearing the cheese, Mia turned off the disposal but left the water running to wash her hands. All the hours of cleaning toilets, floors, and hands from touching money, the clock reached 6:22 PM. The door opened, and the bell rang on cue.

"Hola, Sally!" An Asian girl greeted. Her violet painted lips stretched, revealing a dimple on her left cheek. Two guys sauntered behind her. All of them the same age as Mia, but they're close friends with Mia's sweetheart from college, who was shyly averting eyes from Sal's intimidating gaze.

"Miss Keo," Sal reciprocated the introduction.

The girl scoffed, "C'mon, Sally. When are you going to start calling me 'Morgan'?"

"The day you stop calling me 'Sally.'"

Morgan smirked, rolling her eyes.

Nicholas approached the counter, smiling at his girlfriend, "Hi, Mia."

"Hi," Mia breathed out. The two leaned in to kiss but stopped at the sound of the manager clearing his throat.

"So, are we going or what?" The black friend uttered, slapping his hands against his sides, completely impatient. He wrinkled his nose as if he smelled something awful, probably the expired cheese.

Sal raised his brows at his niece, "¿Vas a algún lado, Mia? (You going somewhere, Mia?)"

Mia sighed, turning to face her uncle sheepishly, "I was hoping to hang out with my friends tonight. Just like you're closing the shop early to hang with your friends."

"Where?"

"Pizzeria, Sally," Morgan answered. "Maybe go to the arcade afterward. Right, guys?" The boys responded in quiet agreement.

Sal approached young adults. The boys couldn't help but feel intimidated. Morgan wasn't scared; she had the worst interrogators back at home.

"You mean to tell me that you four are going to a casual pizza joint..." he trailed off, gesturing the purple dress and leather jacket, Morgan was wearing, "dressed like that?"

"Is it a crime to dress nice?" Morgan folded her arms. "My parents always taught me to dress conservatively."

"No offense to Mister and Misses Keo, but you all look like you are going to a party."

"We're adults, man!" The black friend retorted. "We can do whatever the hell we want without our mom and dads busting our ear."

"Be quiet, Andre," Nicholas growled under his breath.

"Is this true, Mia?" Sal questioned the girl. "You partying?"

Mia opened her mouth to answer, but her boyfriend was quick to speak on her behalf.

"We're celebrating our college graduation, Sir. You were there at the ceremony, remember?"

"Si, and I had to wear the itchy tux all day," Sal snorted, scratching his behind, earning a disgusted look from Mia and Morgan. "If I knew you dating my niece would bring a curse upon me, I would've put your name in the book."

"Sal," Mia complained. Her friends exchanged glances, wondering what book Sal could be referring to. "Look, we're just having pizza, playing a few games, then I'll come straight back at 11:00."

Sal stepped forward, making her friends step back. Mia couldn't go further for her hip bumped into the counter. Compared to Mia and her uncle's height, Sal looked like a sumo fighter ready to pounce on the little fish.

"10:00," Sal pressed, pointing a scolding finger at her.

Mia sighed, caving in the current curfew time. "Yes, I'll be back before 10:00."

"Buena chica," Sal approved by a single kiss on the girl's damp hair. Mia closed her eyes, leaning into his embrace before they have to pull back because of another customer coming.

Mia smiled at her friends, telling them that she'll back. She hurried upstairs to change clothes. The only thing the girl could find that's close to semi-formal was a black/white striped, off the shoulder shirt and black dress pants, slipping on white flip flops for shoes. She didn't do much for her hair, leaving it down so it could dry in waves. She did put on some basic makeup with peach lip gloss and natural eye shadow, not dramatic like Morgan's extended eyeliner and purple lipstick.

When Mia was satisfied with her look, she joined her friends downstairs but not without kissing her uncle on the cheek.

"Don't drink too much," Mia pointed a warning finger at Sal. "We are holding off the Advil and pancake batter until the next shipping."

"And you get your butt back here before 10:00," Sal scolded back, before pointing the finger at the boyfriend. "I expect you to bring her back in one piece. Entender? (Understand?)

"Y-Yes, sir," Nicholas nodded in haste as her girlfriend dragged him out the door. The two other friends followed behind, wrapping an arm around their waists. Andre slyly cupped her backside, clearly showing evidence of an intimate relationship that nearly made Sal want to puke.

"Bye, Mister Sally!" Morgan waved.

Sal groaned, crossed himself in Catholic fashion as soon as they left, "Dios, ayuda a esos niños (God, help those kids)."

~000~000~000~

The four friends walked the sidewalk, both couples linking arms with each other. Nicholas felt safe to kiss his girlfriend with passion.

"You've been swimming?" Nicholas asked, breaking the kiss apartment.

Mia smiled sheepishly, "That obvious?"

Nick shrugged, "I don't mind it. The chlorine smell isn't that strong."

The girl sighed, leaning her head back from Nick's shoulder, "And to think shampoo bottles are designed to clean off the smell. Hopefully, my deodorant is working."

"Hey, Nick doesn't mind a bit," Andre piped. "The pool does build a fine ass. Mm-mm." His eyes trailed down at Mia's backside, earning a smack in the chest by his girlfriend and a disapproving look from his best friend. Mia couldn't help but laugh and flush red in disbelief.

"Dude!" Nicholas snapped.

"Bruh, don't act like a saint! I've seen your line of direction, and it's not at her flops."

Nicholas didn't argue to that bold accusation, averting his girlfriend's surprised face. She pressed her lips together to hold back a smile or a laugh. It was cute to see Nicholas embarrassed.

"You're lucky that her uncle isn't listening to this shit," Nicholas uttered, looking back to make sure that Sal wasn't watching them from behind.

Mia wrapped both arms around Nicholas's waist, pecking him on the cheek, "Don't worry. He knows you are a good guy. He only scares you to keep you in check."

"Okay, is it just me, or is your uncle getting grumpier by the minute?" Morgan wondered, counting each heavy wrinkle on the man's face.

"He's not grumpy," Mia jumped to her uncle's defense. "He's just stressed, running a small business and all. I'm sure all of your parents are like that sometimes."

Morgan rolled her eyes at the thought of her uptight parents, "Ugh, don't remind me!"

"Yeah," Andre agreed. "We are all legal adults now, which means we can do one thing without permission."

"And what's that?" Morgan cooed in a clueless tone, but her smirk spoke volumes.

Andre pumped a fist in the air, "Party!" He and Morgan danced on the sidewalk and raised the roof, "Ooh! Ooh!" The clapped on cue, before repeating the chant. "Ooh! Ooh!"

Mia blinked, "Uh... I thought we were having pizza?" The party animals laughed at the girl's innocence. Nicholas couldn't help but chuckle as well.

"No!" Morgan spoke in between laughs. "We only said that to spare Sally from having a hemorrhage!"

"Yeah, Nick's idea!" Andre pointed at his friend. "Bruh, you didn't tell her?"

Mia's eyes widened, looking at Nick to see if there was any truth to that.

"It was last second, bro!" Nick complained. "How was I supposed to tell her?" In truth, it wasn't Nick's fault that Sal couldn't afford a cellphone plan. Mia had to communicate Sal through payphones or stranger's cellphones, in case of an emergency.

"Girl, we need to start a fundraiser for you," Andre shook his head in dismay. "Not having a phone is sad!"

"I'm sorry," Mia didn't know what else to say.

"C'mon, girl!" Morgan grabbed the girl's hand, taking the lead of direction. "Just like Andre says, we're adults now! We're allowed to do anything we want! We all graduated..." she trailed, realizing the painful truth when spotting Mia. "Well... almost all of us."

"Where exactly do you guys want to get wild?" Mia stayed true to the subject at hand. "Should we get a taxi?"

"We don't need a ride!" Morgan assured her. "We can only get there by a few blocks."

"Where?" Mia pressed.

"The Black Mask Club, baby!" Andre whooped. "Ooh! Ooh!"

Mia stopped her tracks, slackening the grip in Morgan's hands. No one realized the girl flashed back to one of her morning classes with Sal. It was more a night class because of the urgency of this particular lesson.

~000~000~000~

Her fourteen-year-old self was sitting on the couch, next to Sal with the book of bad people in hand.

"Carino, it's time you know why I was so freaked, today."

Mia nodded, knowing the incident that drained the color from her uncle's face. "Yeah, that creepy guy who came to the store today... The serial killer." She remembered the scar-faced man coming in the bodega, giving the two a golden tooth smile and wink. Sal urged Mia to go upstairs, but the serial killer insisted that there's no need for discretion. It wasn't a suggestion. The girl remained behind the counter, didn't look at the creep in the eye. Mia forced to keep her head down, pretending to count change from the register. She learned to never look at him in the eye. The killer used that time of eye contact to look into the windows of the soul that beg for freedom. He believed in making the world a better place by setting those souls free from the ugly world. The delusion made him dangerous. Mia listened to the soft draw in the man's voice that created chills across her arms and down to her legs. He sounded like a man who could do no wrong; that was the scary part about him and not his scars.

The killer demanded information on a man's whereabouts - Matches Malone was his name. The person of interest came into the store a couple of times a month to buy a pack of beer. That's what Sal said to him, and it was the truth. Matches Malone was a quiet, reserved man. He didn't give out his personal information to strangers for this particular reason. Why the creeper wanted Matches? It's because his boss wanted him, and it was not to have a friendly chat.

The scar-faced man parted from the counter but not without sparing words that spook the workers.

"You look poor. Maybe someday I can be kind and return the favor, Sal."

Sal didn't deny the offer, for he knew the consequences. After that encounter, he told Mia to stay upstairs for the rest of the day.

Back to the lesson, Sal opened his book, showing pictures and articles of different news but with one guy in common.

"Roman Sionis," Mia uttered, scanning the information about him. He was the heir to Janus Corporation and just opened a new club a few blocks from their shop. Just like the Penguin, there was more to the man than meets the eye - something darker.

"He's a mobster, too?" she asked.

"Worse than Falcone, and that says a lot."

"What does he do?"

"He and Victor Zsasz share the love of sadism; that's why the Scar Devil is loyal to him. The word on the street is that he commands Zsasz to peel off the faces of his victims and hang them up on display. Thankfully, Zsasz doesn't kill just anyone anymore, not unless Sionis grants him that guilty pleasure."

Mia looked up at his uncle, covering her mouth in horror.

"If you see him, Mia, turn away. If you see his club, walk across the street and keep walking, don't ever look back."

"Do you think he would talk to me, Sal? I'm a little too young for him."

"Maybe not, but we can't take any chances right now. You are a pretty girl, Mia, more than you realize. His club has full of putas desesperadas (desperate whores). Unlike your mother, they don't know what they were getting into by working for him."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that he is the type of man that gets anything he wants by the snap of his fingers. Just like Wayne, his life has been handed to him on a silver plate. If he doesn't get what he wants, he will become worse than a child throwing a tantrum. Saying no to the man will seal your fate."

"Is that what that Matches guy did?"

Sal shrugged, "I don't know, Mia. With him around the neighborhood now, it's going to get harder to keep the consistency of regulars... and..." The uncle debated whether to finish that statement.

"What?" Mia pressed.

He sighed, knowing it's best if the girl knows the truth, "He is friends with the mobster that killed your papa."

Mia closed her eyes, tightening her lips together. She tried to suppress the tears. All she could do was bury her face into Sal's white beaters. One hand caressing through her tangle hair triggered the sobs. Five minutes of sitting there in each other's loving embrace, the girl finally pulled herself together, wiping the tears.

"Okay," Mia nodded in agreement, "I will stay away, Sal. I promise." Her words earned a kiss on the head, praising her in Spanish.

"Now, come on. Let's review," Sal turned back a few pages, receiving groans and complaints from the girl in return. "Hush."

~000~000~000~

"I can't," Mia backed away against the stone graffiti wall. Nick and Morgan stood by either side of her and attempted to comfort the girl.

"Why? What's wrong?" Morgan pressed.

"She doesn't do nightclubs, Morgan!" Nick rubbed his woman's shoulders. "Geez, Mia, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to drop a bomb on you. They thought-"

"Ah!" Andre stomped his foot like a kid throwing a tantrum, "Are you tripping? Girl, I get the guilt trip and all. My parents are strictly religious, but that's not stopping me from having fun. Neither should you, M. I mean no disrespect or anything."

"Andre," Nick cautioned. "You and Morgan-"

"And don't you dare point the finger at us, Nick!" Andre argued. "You didn't object to the idea of clubbing, not our fault you have a shelter girlfriend. Again, I mean no disrespect, M."

Mia didn't know what to say, except shrug her shoulders; words hurt, but they were true.

"It was a majority vote," Nick corrected. "I wanted to try O'Malley's."

"Kiss ass! I mean, c'mon, what's so bad about the Black Mask? It's a fifteen-minute walk there!"

"Sal says it's not safe," Mia interjected.

"Yes, it is safe, Mia. C'mon!" Morgan begged. "It's fine! We can have so much fun. Dad knows Sionis; he'll take care of us." That earned glares from her friends. Morgan widened her eyes, covering her agape mouth, realizing she slipped the tea without thinking.

"The hell," Andre cursed.

"Your dad knows the owner?" Nick challenged.

"Yeah," Morgan grumbled the admission. "I mean, look, I have a good thing going in there. Sionis is sucking up to my dad for a partnership."

"Partnership for what exactly?" Mia wondered quietly. Andre covered his ears, making noises. He didn't want to know the shady details, in case he was forced to testify. Morgan shoved Andre's chest, commanding him to be quiet.

That's what Mia was afraid of. She was aware of Morgan's crime family before she blurted it out to her friends. They called themselves the Golden Lions. The Keo family ran the organization for generations, nearly a century. They weren't in big leagues like Falcone or the Bertinelli's, that's why Mr. Keo wasn't on the GCPD's radar for so long. Pledging loyalty to Sionis will be a risk of exposure to Keo's part. Then again, Keo would have bigger problems with Sionis if he said the two-lettered word.

"Look, as long as my last name is Keo, Sionis remains a dog with a bone. I put in a good word to Dad in exchange for free drinks. I'm telling you, the place is better than the Iceberg Lounge."

From what Mia learned, anything was better than the Black Mask Club. Judging by the look on the guys' faces, they agreed.

"Seriously? What's wrong with pizza?" Nick suggested. "They serve drinks and games, too. We can have fun there."

"Lame!" Morgan cried.

"Seriously, Morgan?!" Andre demanded angrily, more disappointed in his girl for her stupidity. "Are you looking for a death wish, you didn't tell me this shit!"

"Because neither of you would agree!"

"So, you don't mind having us killed just to have fun?!"

"No! I'm telling you! There's nothing dangerous in the club. I swear..." she frowned at another thought in mind, "I mean, if you ignore Harley Quinn's craziness."

"Jesus!" Andre cried. "Are you trippin', girl?! You're crazier than the psycho bitch." Mia shushed the player, worried that the clown couple might be around to hear the offensive term against the queen.

"Nobody asked you!" Morgan argued, angrier at the comparison between her and Harley.

"I agree," Nick stated. "Everyone knows not to disrespect the Joker's second half. One wrong move and you're dead. I'm not taking any chances. If she is in there with that clown, I'm not going!"

Andre nodded, "Yeah, not facing Satan tonight."

Morgan scoffed, "C'mon, guys, you can't be serious?! Mia, please reconsider. Tell them that they have nothing to fear."

Mia squeezed Nick's hand, refusing to move or say a word. Was Morgan serious?

"Look at me, girl," Morgan cupped Mia's jaw to gaze into her pleading eyes. Was Morgan trying to hypnotize her? She must be desperate to party. "In your head, you say no." She tapped her chest, "But we both know your heart says yes."

'Not really,' Mia thought in silence. She wished her best friend/neighbor hadn't left. Ella would've defended Mia and stood by her decisions. She would never peer pressure Mia into doing anything life-threatening. She knew all of Mia's secrets and understood why it was necessary to walk the opposite street of the beast's lair. Why can't they know? Out of all three, Morgan should know never to float on dangerous waters for too long. Maybe that's how she got the free drinks in the first place. Why can't she listen to her father and stay away, also? Unfortunately, Morgan wasn't the type to follow the rules. She dyed her hair purple one time to express herself, let's just say her parents were not happy.

"Don't you want to take a break from being you for a few hours?" Morgan challenged.

Honestly, what's wrong with Mia? What's wrong with pizza and arcade games? Why would anyone want to wake up puking and suffer a splitting headache? Was having a good time in a shady club worth it? Sal trusted Mia to answer those questions by heart and a good conscience.

Mia shook her head, "I'm sorry, Morgan. I can't do it."

Morgan tilted her head back, letting out a dramatic groan.

Nick took hold of Mia's hand, "Why don't you guys go ahead? I'll celebrate with Mia at the Pizzeria."

"No, man," Andre disagreed. His face softened by Mia's puppy pout. There were rumors about Sionis being a boss, and Morgan bluntly confirmed it, out in public. He refused to get killed tonight. Andre wasn't going to waste all the years of schooling to please his girlfriend. He knew to date a mobster's daughter was a bad idea. "I'll go, too."

"Andre?!" Morgan complained.

"Hey, our friend's girl is not comfortable for a good reason. You just have to suck it... plus I'm really am hungry for pizza."

Mia shook her head, feeling bad about the situation, "I'm sorry, Morgan. I didn't mean to burst your fun." Morgan opened her mouth, hoping to convince the angelfish to go. The plan died when her boyfriend opened his big mouth.

"Don't worry about it, girl," Andre assured her, casting a look down at Morgan. "You can go ahead if you want. No one is stopping you, but from what I learned, partying alone can get kinda lonely."

"Shut up," Morgan huffed, folding her arms. She would rather be bored with a group than be alone at the club, especially when a harlequin was there to wreak havoc. She required another set of eyes in case Harley decided to pee in someone's glass. "Whatever. Let's get a cab," for that, she stomped ahead.

All four friends left East End to have a decent night in Midtown.

~000~000~000~

All four men gathered in a small table of the Iceberg Lounge, smoking and drinking while enjoying a game of cards. Sal, Dimitri, and Marco watched their wise Asian friend shuffling the deck. The dealer was Doc, the owner of a Chinese takeaway and a landlord. He was known in the group for keeping unlawful residents like Christine Marinus from the law and paid trackers.

These men were culturally different but had one thing in common. They had legit occupations that made them invisible - Dimitri the janitor; Marco the construction worker; Sal the cook; and Doc the landlord and owner of takeout. People thought to be alone when spilling their dirty secrets, resulting in these men becoming the eyes and ears of Gotham. This was a tool they don't mind using for their advantage. Every month, the four meet up to trade up these secrets by a poker game. There wasn't a name for the secret group, but Dimitri insisted on calling themselves the Cabal. To the rest, it was unnecessary and so overdone.

Sal was done gambling money but missed the game, so this was the best thing for him. He was sparing himself an eviction notice while warning his good friends of the latest dangers in Gotham.

Marco and Sal were hesitant to come, Doc didn't care, but Dimitri wanted a change of view. All dressed the part of the wealthy, forcing Marco to trim his beard and Sal to wear the itchy tux again. It was a risk for the place was out of their price range, plus Penguin stopped at their table once. The stuck up snoot questioned the group why they hadn't been served with refills yet, what Penguin didn't know that the alcohol and cigars on the table didn't come from the complimentary bar. Sal sneaked the beer bottles in his coat, while Doc did the same with the cigars. Marco bribed their server to steer clear for a while. They responded to the bird the way they know how - speak the native tongue until Mr. Cobblepot had enough. It worked.

"Gentlemen, take no offense," Penguin spoke slowly as if he was trying to communicate with a toddler. "If you can't understand English, take a class or bring a friend who can. Whether you guys have the papers to be here is not my business." The four older men restrained themselves until the bird bowed his beak nose and parted from their iceberg.

"Next time, let's risk going to Falcone's restaurant instead," Marco spat, glaring at the Penguin in disgust, which was too busy fake laughing with other guests.

"Easy, Marco," Doc grumbled, stacking four cards for each person, face down. "We now know to give Dimitri a coupon for his birthday next time."

"It is my birthday, gentlemen," the janitor clarified.

"That's why we're here, and I'm wearing this monkey suit," Sal spat, scratching his pits.

"Let's just start the game already," Marco said with the cigar between his teeth, picking up his cards. Each one had a mini envelope of secrets, ready to be shared.

...

"It's a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Sionis," Penguin cooed, shaking the guest's gloved hand. "Please, enjoy yourself."

"I intend to, Mr. Cobblepot."

Penguin bowed his head out of habit before leaving the table.

Little did the cabal know that the mobster in white was watching across the floor. He stared while swirling the whiskey glass in hand. His associate didn't pay mind as he slaughtered the boiled fish on the plate, practicing his knife skills to perfection.

Instead of running The Black Mask at East End, Roman Sionis decided to check out the competition. The decor was extravagant; the crystal statue of a naked woman was almost too much. The temperature was nothing compared to the heat at his club, and the thermostat wasn't responsible.

Roman didn't give the weird group of older man a second glance until they pulled a deck of cards out.

"Victor, do you see what I see?"

The Scar Devil followed his boss's eyes while biting the fish meat and bone. "They offend you, boss," he said it more like a revelation than a question.

"They most certainly offend me, Victor. Are you blind? Just look at them."

Victor dropped the fork to clean out his knife, ready for the command, "I don't mind taking care of them for you." Once he cleaned out the fish's juice from the blade, Victor stared longingly at his small reflection. "I can free them," he uttered as if in a trance, "...right now."

"Free them?!" Roman glared at his best friend, almost appalled by that suggestion. "And ruin the game even more?"

Zsasz snapped back to reality, his brows furrowed, not understanding at all.

Roman explained, "Everyone knows that it's best to play poker when they are five people present. They have only four; those poor men don't know what they're missing."

"So, what do you want me to do?"

"Why nothing, Victor. I am going to lend these men a helping hand and show them how to play the game," for that, the mobster stood, smoothing out the wrinkles of his suit, abandoning his drink. Victor Zsasz, as Roman's loyal dog, followed behind.