For yet another time in the past few months, I looked in the mirror, and didn't recognise who looked back.
I was sat in Victor's car, but I couldn't stop staring in the fold down mirror. Makeup laced every inch of my body, making me look healthy and glowing; a rich, red human hair wig sat upon my head quite realistically, and ran down my back, a feeling I hadn't felt in months. A white satin dress clung to my skin, and I was hardly able to keep breathing. But I had to, to keep up the façade.
"You look great, doll. I'm glad Dinah was able to help you out." he murmured, staring at my legs.
I didn't notice. "She was lovely," I replied, smiling at myself. Even that didn't look familiar, with the red lipstick topped over it. "How on earth did you meet her?"
Dinah was a rich white lady that Victor had some how got connections to, and who owned a hair company. He'd gone to her to try and find a suitable wig to wear, as to fulfil the look it neared to look like it was growing damn well out of my head. Dinah was extremely obliging, even gifting me the dress that I now wore. We were actually the same dress size, so it wasn't like the dress was too small... I think it was supposed to feel this sucked in.
"I'm the only guy Dinah hires to bump off her husbands so she can get their money. I haven't told the authorities in the five years I've been doing it, and so basically she'll be willing to do anything, just so the GCPD don't know how she really funded her company." he explained.
I closed the mirror, and turned to him with a raised eyebrow. "Anything?" I asked, my voice lowering slightly.
He looked up at my eyes again. "No, not that. She only whores herself out to richer, older men. I'm too poor for her." he added, laughing nervously.
I gave him a dangerous smile. "Funny."
He rolled his eyes. "Can we go in yet? You've been staring at yourself for like ten minutes."
I giggled. "Oops, sorry. I didn't realise it was that long." I turned back to my mirror. "But the disguise is so convincing..."
He sighed, and opened his car door, getting out. I laughed a little to myself, and opened my own door, letting my white high heels hit the sidewalk. It didn't take me long to walk naturally in them, and I slung the strap of my matching white clutch over my shoulder.
There was a long line out of the entrance of the Iceberg Lounge, one we completely ignored as Victor wrapped an arm around me, and the two of us walked straight in.
The exterior looked like that of a nightclub with neon blue lights, however the inside was very much different. It was very high class, with a large block of ice and water being the centre piece of the room, and drew the attention well, as seals bounced around and squealed. Tables were sat around it, but glass separated the seals and the humans, to avoid any splashing. There were raised seats on balconies where you could look over the place, without being seen clearly. Those seats must usually be taken by the unlawful criminals that Cobblepot was heard to solicit.
There was a desk where a waiter would stand and seat people coming in individually, however instead of her coming over, we were instead greeted by a short, greased haired man in a black suit.
"Victor!" he sang, albeit his voice was nervous. "We weren't expecting you."
"Good evening, Potts, I am aware that it's the Don's party tonight, but I just thought I'd stop by and... spare my company." Victor replied, smirking.
Potts scratched his head through his white gloves. "I don't think Mr Cobblepot would approve of you being here, after last time-" he protested.
"Ah, but Penguin isn't here, he's in Blackgate, eh? So why don't you just be a gentleman and keep this from your boss' ears, and it'll go better for all of us." he retorted, patting him on the shoulder and walking past him. Potts simply gave a whimper in reply.
"What did you do last time?" I asked, as we took a seat on one of the very visible seats. We needed to be seen if my semblance of a plan was going to work.
"I was a bit drunk and tried to climb into the seal enclosure. Penguin didn't appreciate it at all." he chuckled, adjusting his blazer. He was wearing a simple black and white tuxedo, with his dark hair tied back like always.
I smiled. "Don't you dare attempt it this time, I don't need the Don knowing I came here with a seal loving buffoon." I joked, crossing my legs.
"Right, the plan where you attempt to get alone with the good old Don so you can ask him about Happy?" he replied, cocking an eyebrow.
I gave him a look back. "What? It might work." I responded, both of our voices fairly quiet. We didn't know if someone might hear us, and spoil the whole thing.
"There's a chance of it working, but keep your phone on you. I don't want something going wrong when you're on your own."
I rolled my eyes. "Yes, dad."
He sighed, but got up and marched upstairs to where his 'business associates' were supposed to be. This left me on my own, and I lay back on my chair, making sure I was approachable and had good posture. A band at the side of the first floor was playing a smooth song on their instruments, and I tapped my finger on the table to the slow beat. Ginger-red hair fell over one of my eyes which held dark blue contacts, and I almost flinched, not recognising it as my own hair just yet.
"What's a beautiful lady like yourself doing sat all alone like this?" an Italian male voice asked, and I looked up daintily. The face wasn't of Don Pacino, but I recognised him from the mugshots Victor had shown me, of people involved with him.
I turned on the charm. "Oh well I came here with a friend, but he seems to have left me. I'm afraid I don't know nobody here." I purred, in my fake Gotham accent, which was actually more convincing that I had thought.
I was hoping that he'd be stricken with me, and invite me up to where his crime partners were sitting, then I could have a shot at the Don. It turned out tonight was my lucky night.
"Why don't you sit with me, and I'll introduce you to my friends, eh?" he asked, grinning as I stood up.
"That would be nice." I responded, giving him a sly but sweet smile as he slipped an arm around my back.
He led me to a door in the back, that revealed two sets of staircase, leading left and right; we took the right. The carpets didn't look walked on, they were a royal dark red and outlined with gold thread. These very floors had been walked on by all of Gotham's worst, and now I was taking the same steps. It was like a metaphor, if I even cared to think about that kind of thing.
We continued on until we reached a table, where several men ranging from young twenties to mid sixties, sat, drinking wine.
"Pazzi, how very like you to disappear and come back with a woman." A man laughed, a man I recognised as Salvatore Carmine, Pacino's right hand man. If he was here, the latter wouldn't be far away. "What's your name, sweetheart?"
I relaxed, and held my clutch beside my hip instead of my chest. "Lana, Lana Windsor." I really was getting lost with all these names that were tied to me, that I was starting to forget what my real one was.
"A beautiful name, why don't you sit with the real men? Pazzi is still just a boy, isn't that right? Pazzi?" Carmine asked, to Pazzi's dismay.
He was going to give some argument, but finally decided against it, his face growing neutral. "Yeah, right." he replied, glumly sitting beside the other men.
"So Lana, can I get you a drink?" Carmine offered, putting an arm around me and holding me close. I was going to take a real good shower once I got home.
"I'll have the cherry vodka," I breathing, my voice very light and flirty. It made me feel ill. "That is if it's okay, mister."
He flashed me a grin, his gold tooth glistening. "Anything for a pretty doll like you." he replied, before clicking his fingers so a waiter came running. "A cherry vodka and another gin. Make it quick." His voice drastically changed from when he was talking to me, and when he was talking to the staff.
"Bring us a bottle of champagne too." a male voice added, as he moved toward the table. I tried not to look too surprised as I realised it was Pacino. He had a woman with him, tanned with very long black hair; he sat down, and she sat down on his lap.
"Pacino, good to see you." Carmine greeted, grinning. "Who's your lovely lady friend?"
"This is Sonja, say hello sweetheart." Pacino replied.
She smiled, and blushed, waving a hand in a small, feminine manner. "Hi."
The waiter swiftly returned with our drinks, and the men got to discussing plans. Sonja and I kind of sat there awkwardly, until we were finally addressed.
Pacino was smirking. "Why don't the four of us have some fun? Make the most of the night?"
Carmine laughed. "Good plan, my room is just upstairs. Why don't you follow me, ladies?"
"Perfect." I responded, giggling lightly. I wasn't acting - it really was perfect, now I could get Pacino alone in a room without any guards, or any suspicion.
Without any more say, the four of us walked to the glass elevator to the upper floors, me in Carmine's grasp, and Sonja in Pacino's. I walked softly, but gazed up at Carmine every now and then with a pouted look. We all stood in, and Carmine scanned a keycard to take his up to the living quarters; the doors closed, and the elevator started to travel upwards. As the walls were glass, one could look over the entire interior of the Iceberg Lounge.
From metres away I caught Victor's eye, who was talking to a few other men, which he also paused in as he turned to gawp at me. I gave him as wink which I wasn't even sure if he caught, before he turned back to talk to the men.
Luckily, the others didn't notice him staring, and if they did, they probably didn't think it was at me.
The elevator doors opened at the top suites, and the group of us exited into the lobby. We walked into a room, which Carmine opened by using his keycard again.
"Welcome to paradise," the man chuckled, and I inwardly cringed. I couldn't wait until this douche was dead.
Sonja giggled and kissed him on the mouth, before he pulled her into a deeper kiss. Pacino seized me and pushed his mouth onto mine, and though on the surface I responded positively, on the inside I was desperate to get away.
When I pulled away, he had cherry red lipstick smeared around his mouth.
"Why don't I go freshen up?" I murmured, stroking his face before slinking away.
"I could join you-" Pacino started, but I tutted.
"You'll ruin the surprise, baby. You do like surprises, don't you?" I breathed, giving him a cheeky smile.
He gave a slight nod, and I disappeared into the on suite bathroom, and locked the door behind me. I let out a quiet but relieved sigh, and turned on a tap, to cover any noises as I pulled out my Glock. I had plenty of bullets to take them all out, but I wanted to have some fun with Pacino.
"Why don't ya start without me?" I called, in my girly Gotham accent. "I wouldn't like to think I'm killing the mood."
I attached the suppressor to the end of the gun, and made sure there was a bullet in the chamber. Good, time to really kill the mood.
Gently, I opened the door, before firing two shots into Carmine and Sonja's heads, who hadn't even turned to look at me. They fell to the floor dead. The next two bullets impacted on Pacino's legs, avoiding any place that would lead to his instant death, but was enough to make him yelp. I stood over the bodies in my white heels, and raised the gun to the survivor's glabella.
"What are you doing?" he cried, his eyes wide.
"Playing a game. It's called, 'Can Don Pacino tell me what I need to know before I'm tempted to blow his brains out?'" I replied, sternly.
"You're crazy!" he whimpered, raising his hands up. They were shaking.
"I had a good teacher. Now are you ready to cooperate?"
"Jesus, what do you want? I'll tell you anything!"
I grinned. "A little birdie told me a guy called Happy used to work for you, around the same time as Carl Kristoff. I need everything you have on him."
He scrunched up his face in confusion. "All of this just to find Happy? He's not worth-"
"Tell me, scummy bear, I ain't fucking with ya."
"Okay, okay. Happy worked for me a couple years ago and he was a good guy, but very hard headed. Literally, as he was in a plane crash years ago that scarred all of his face and left him with bits of metal stuck in his head, so he couldn't be killed easy. Anyway he started wanting more dangerous jobs, and so he left to join other gangs."
"Where is he now?"
"How should I know??"
My eyes narrowed. "You better give me something. Or I start getting itchy." I neared him, gun pointed consistently at him. My arms were starting to get sore, but I ignored them.
"Okay! One of my guys went away on a job the other week in Bludhaven, and said he met up with Happy, he works in the nearby steel mill smuggling goods."
"This steel mill, what's it called?"
"I don't know! But there's not many steel mills in Bludhaven, so just fucking look!"
My face hardened, and I pulled the trigger. The bullet pierced through his skull, and left a bloody mess on the wall, as well as a one of the bed as Pacino collapsed dead on it.
"Pleasure doing business with you."
