Warning: verbal, physical and emotional abuse, homophobic slurs, sexual themes

This chapter has been significantly revised. This is not the Part III you thought you knew, folks. Enjoy.

A mob of people racing from what was supposed to be nothing but a social club was more than enough to get the police's attention. Luciano and his men walked quickly but casually away from the scene just as cop cars started pulling up to investigate the mass disturbance. Despite being rather on the short side the mob boss moved with furious strides of his legs that put him a few feet ahead of his subordinates. Lutz and Kuro appreciated the distance. After the humiliating defeat, Luciano was surely going to be in one of his moods, and no one wanted to be in close proximity to that.

It didn't take too long for the trio to get to a certain part of the city few dared to visit in the light of day, let alone the middle of the night. There were considerably less streetlights illuminating the cracked and littered streets. The occasional lone person that would slink by or inebriated couple that stumbled past had faces shrouded in shadow. Anyone could be lurking around the corner of an alley, but if they were a criminal they were probably somehow involved in Luciano's intricate ring of crime. Because of that he actually considered those slums the safest place for himself and his residence of operation which, quite unfortunately in his eyes, was Favoloso.

They stopped in front of a three-floor building made of plain stone. It was rather unexceptional and forgettable. Luciano pounded his fist on the unmarked door. A few moments later a slot moved aside to reveal playful brown eyes behind a pair of half rimmed glasses.

"Hallo, hallo! Password, please." The mob boss's lips turned up in a snarl.

"Roland, you imbecile! I am in no mood for games."

Eyebrows rose in mock innocence. "But I'm not playing games. I was told by the owner of this club that if I let anyone in who didn't know the password that I would be… what was it he said? Oh ja, I was told I would be 'skinned alive and made into a rug for people to wipe their shit covered boots on'."

"I am the owner of this club!"

"Then you should know the password, ja?"

"One of you idiots give me your gun." Kuro took one from his belt and placed it in Luciano's waiting palm.

"Really now, there's no need to get so-" The sentence was cut off by a yelp when a bullet embedded itself in the metal only a few inches away from the slot. Roland adjusted his glasses, swallowing. "Alright, geez. You really are in a foul mood." Luciano handed the weapon back to his subordinate as the bolts were undone. The door swung open to reveal a man standing there with ginger hair kept in a ponytail wearing nothing but a red silk robe and a pair of high heels. Despite being shot at only seconds ago, there was a grin on his lightly freckled face. "Welcome to Favoloso, darlings. Enjoy yourselves."

"Put some goddamn clothes on," Luciano growled and pushed past. Kuro followed silently after him, but Lutz stopped to smirk at Roland.

"You look amazing in red, poppy."

"Don't I? I bought this just the other day, wonderful bargain. Lutz, love, is that a knife in your shoulder or are you just happy to see me?"

"Well I'm always happy to see you," he chuckled weakly, then turning to jog and catch up with his boss. Roland pursed his lips, watching the man go.

"I really wish he'd be more careful…"

To describe Favoloso as fancy would be an understatement. The club was extravagant almost to the point of absurdity. It was as if everything was either touched gold by Midas or kissed rose by Aphrodite. Velvet curtains with glittering tassels draped the walls. Crystal chandeliers twinkled in the low, pinkish light. Patrons lounged with drinks in hand on luxurious chaises or fine leather chairs. Patrons could also be seen writhing shamelessly with each other in those seats. In pairs, in threes, man, woman, other- it really didn't seem to matter. The air was heavily perfumed and thick and intoxicating. To enter the club was to enter a lascivious pipe dream, a fantasy. Lutz loved it. Luciano loathed it. Even though he was the technical owner he seemed to have no control over what happened there if it wasn't related to his mafia. Favoloso was his brother's territory.

On a stage, there was a burlesque performance. A man in a coral evening gown that touched the floor seductively crooned sweet nothings into a microphone. People half-dressed in colorful corsets and underwear swayed their hips to the sound of his voice to feed the audience's ravenous eyes. Though he would have loved to stay and watch, Lutz slipped past boozed couples and busy servers to get to a back room through an unmarked door. It was an office with nothing but a large mahogany desk at center. Luciano sat behind it, leaned back in his chair, his boots resting on the smooth wood. Between his tapered fingers, he toyed with small, yet wicked looking knife. An expression more sour than usual pulled at his face. He seemed to have been in the middle of saying something to a group of his subordinates when Lutz showed up.

"Where were you? Get your stupid ass in here." Lutz slammed the door and stood by Kuro. Luciano glared daggers.

"As I was saying, I am dangerously disappointed. This evening was not at all what I was expecting. It seems that one of- if not the most- powerful crime organization in this city has somehow been outmaneuvered by a bunch of freaks." It took only the blink of an eye for the blade in his hand to travel across the room and firmly embed in the door. Lutz stiffened at the sound of it whizzing by his ear. "How did this happen?"

Silence.

The boss swung his legs off of his desk one at a time. He took his time standing up. There was only the faint sound of music from the other side of the door as he stretched his arms. He moved quietly across the floor, a predator. He stopped in front of an albino man with nervous eyes and snowy hair to his shoulders. "Gillian."

"Yes sir?" His Germanic accented voice was nearly a whisper.

"Do you know how this happened?" He shook his head.

"No sir. I wasn't there." Luciano moved on to the short haired woman next to Gillian who sported a suit just like the rest of them.

"Ezra."

"Sir." She had a European accent of her own; it was Hungarian.

"How did this happen?" The woman smirked.

"I wouldn't know, sir."

"Kuro, you don't know how this happened either, do you?" The Japanese man shook his head. Luciano stepped in front of Lutz. His eyes were unreadable. "Lutz." There was an audible swallow. Lutz kept his gaze straight ahead.

"Boss."

"Do you by chance know how this fiasco occurred?" He shook his head. Luciano clicked his tongue. "No one seems to know shit around here. You all lack more brains than I previously thought." The boss shifted his cold gaze to the faces of his other three subordinates before returning it to Lutz. "I think that whoever was in charge of the mission should be taking the blame, don't you?" Silence. "Who did I put in charge of the mission?" Lutz clenched his fists at his side. He despised how forcefully his heart beat in his chest. He did not want to speak, for he was damned if he did. But he also was damned if he didn't. The pain in his shoulder that had only been a dull ache (he had gotten hurt so much worse, so many different times) intensified to a nearly unbearable throb. "Do not make me repeat myself."

"Me."

"Hm?"

"You put me in charge of the mission." His blunt nails dug into his palms.

"That I did. Do you know what that means, Lutz?"

"No," he responded, even though he did know. He knew all too well. A forceful hand yanked him down by his tie.

"Look me in the eyes when you speak to me."

"N-no." Nerves made his voice crack. Lutz could see a sadistic little smile twitch at the man's lips. It was the only tell-tale sign of how much Luciano relished his subordinate's fear. But he wasn't satisfied with just fear: he wanted suffering.

"It means that this fuck up is entirely your fault. Your utter lack of competence cost me my target. Now that freak is on the run, and I have to waste my invaluable time hunting him down. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"…Sorry?"

Luciano's sharp left hook smashed into Lutz's jaw. A jab to his stomach knocked the breath from his lungs, and kicks to his shins with heavy boots brought him to the ground. Hit after hit rained down upon on him. He knew better than to fight back. Ezra and Kuro seemed perfectly callous towards the scene. Gillian winced at each strike as if they were on his own flesh.

It was a good five minutes until Luciano's temper tantrum came to a close. The grand finale of the abusive show was him putting his foot on Lutz's face and gradually adding pressure until there was a pained whimper. "You disgust me," the boss sneered, "but most unfortunately you disappointment me. You're pathetic. You're the most pathetic man I have ever seen." Lutz had dark bruises blooming in patches across his skin. Blood trickled from his busted nose down his chin. His left eye was nearly swollen shut.

"Let this be a warning to you all." Luciano turned to face his subordinates. "I do not like to be disappointed. Ezra, you are now in charge of the mission. Go with Gillian and investigate the bakery. If you see any of those four I want you to apprehend them. To be quite honest I do not care who you kill in the process as long as you take Jones alive. I want the satisfaction of dealing with him myself."

"You got it, sir! Let's go, Gilly." She grabbed the albino by the wrist. Gillian gave Lutz a pitying look before he was pulled away.

"Kuro, go to Jones's home. If he shows up there return immediately and inform me. Get the address book from Roland so you'll know where to go."

"Roland's a bit busy right now." In the doorway stood a woman with long auburn hair. She wore a particularly short rose colored dress. "You know how he hates to be interrupted when he's in the middle of a strip tease." Out of what could only be described as criminal instinct, Luciano and Kuro whipped firearms from out of the breast pockets of their suits. The woman seemed unfazed by three guns being pointed in her direction.

"Just who do you think you are, bella?" The woman clicked her tongue.

"Your brother, for one thing." Luciano's face showed his recognition (and apparent distain) for the blonde man who was revealed once the wig was taken off. Even without the long hair he looked very feminine and lovely. His eyes, which were the same brown as Luciano's, were lined in kohl and the lids dusted with gold shadow. "Geez Luci, you can't recognize your own twin with a little bit of makeup on? I'm glad I was so convincing though."

"Shut up." Flavio, the boss's slightly older brother, grinned. His teeth stood out brightly against his crimson lipstick.

"You're terribly cruel to me, brother." He raised an eyebrow in the direction of the bloodied man still on the ground. "You're terribly cruel to so many people. What's happened now that's gotten you so upset? Do you need big brother to make it better?" Luciano looked like he was going to say something but turned and stomped out the door instead. His crony followed. Flavio sighed. "What a brat he is."

"You're telling me." Even when Lutz sat up slowly his head spun. Flavio offered him an arm to steady himself on. Despite wearing precariously high heels he was able to support the injured man as they moved out of the office and into the main club again. They went through a door marked 'performers only' by the stage that led to a small hallway. On the left was a dressing room, on the right was a makeup room, and at the end of the hall was a pink door with the initials 'FV' written in gold cursive. That's where the two entered. Inside the quaint parlor, the wood of the furniture was dark and most everything else was some intoxicating shade of gold or pink.

"Please make yourself comfortable." The lock on the door clicked softly when it was turned. Lutz collapsed on a plush little couch, giving a weak groan. Flavio cooed sympathetically.

"Don't worry, my darling. Flavi will take good care of you." He made his way to the vanity framed with lights. The desk of it was strewn with feminine beauty essentials: compacts of rouge and tubes of lip color and sticks of eyeliner. The auburn wig was carefully placed on one of the many stands that added to the bright clutter. He pulled a leather doctor's bag from the space beneath the vanity. "It's a shame, actually."

"Hm?"

"That you get hurt so often I have to keep a kit of medical supplies in my dressing room. Sit up for me a little. Yes, just like that. There's a good boy." He sat on the couch next to the man and unzipped the bag. "Would you like to tell me what happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it right now."

"Understandable. But he didn't put this in here, did he?" Lutz winced at the gentle tug to the knife still in his shoulder.

"No. That happened during the mission."

"I'm going to take it out on three."

"Fine."

"One." Flavio yanked out the blade in a single movement then pressed bandages to staunch the bleeding.

"You said three."

"You know I always do it on one. Now be still." He expertly went through all the proper motions to treat the stab wound. With a cloth, he tenderly wiped away the blood smeared across Lutz's scarred face before moving on to the injuries Luciano had inflicted. Lutz grimaced at the sting of his cuts but remained quiet. He inhaled deeply. The room smelled overwhelmingly of floral. "There. You're all patched up now. Tell me how you are feeling."

"Everything still hurts." He laid a hand on his bandaged shoulder. "But not like it did before," he added for Flavio's sake.

"I wish I could do more, my darling." He took one of Lutz's calloused hands between his soft ones. "I wish I could take away all of your pain with a kiss."

"If that worked then life would be a fairytale."

"You're right about that," Flavio sighed. "We're certainly living no fairytale." He stood to return the medicine bag to the vanity when there was a hand around his wrist.

"I wouldn't mind you trying though."

"Mhm. I'm sure you wouldn't."

The bag was dropped unceremoniously to the floor. Flavio settled himself in Lutz's lap so that their legs tangled and hips were pressed snugly to hips. Their lips met, the kiss chaste at first, then becoming impassioned when Flavio decided to bite.

"Minx," Lutz breathed heavily. He ran his hands over Flavio's full thighs. Lutz never failed to enjoy the warm weight of his lover nestled on top of him. Thanks to a carb filled diet, Flavio had rolls and curves and stretch marks that Luciano did not. It was yet again another way the two varied, and Lutz was more than grateful for it. Nothing would be worse than thinking he was with his abusive boss in a moment of intimacy. Just the thought of Luciano urged him to dart his eyes towards the door.

"I locked it already," Flavio's crooning voice assured him. "Don't worry yourself, my darling. Just keep touching me."

Reassuring kisses were peppered up Lutz's throat, across his jaw, to his ear. Flavio guided rough hands under his dress, and Lutz was all too eager to squeeze handfuls of generous, unyielding flesh. Whatever the Italian had on under his frock was lacey and probably pink, and the thought made Lutz delirious with excitement. Being with Flavio always had that effect on him. His mind spiraled into a different reality when he allowed himself to become lost in his senses and the Flavio, Flavio, Flavio enveloped around him. Everything was rose colored and sweet, a hedonistic haze. He felt intoxicated.

"Jacket off," Lutz implored in a moan. He was unbearably flushed under his suit. Flavio assisted with removing the garment then promptly returned to showering his lover with affection. He lustfully sucked marks across his skin that had the potential to last for days. Flavio stroked his nails along Lutz's scalp, feeling a swell of pride at how nicely he marked what was his. He frowned though at the other bruises that had been caused by his brother.

"Do you live in fear of him?" The question was out of Flavio's mouth before he realized he was thinking it. Lutz softly groaned a pitiful 'yes' without missing a beat. He nuzzled his lover's hand. Flavio frowned deeper. "I figured you do. He doesn't know how to properly treat anyone let alone those loyal to the Vargas family. Heaven only knows why nonno made him the boss. He's disgracing my name."

"He won't for much longer," Lutz mumbled into Flavio's palm. The Italian blonde laughed prettily.

"Oh, you're right my darling! I shouldn't worry; it causes wrinkles. Everything will be changing quite soon." He gave Lutz's mouth a gentle kiss. "Still in pain?"

"A little."

"You're going to need a lot more than kisses then, aren't you my darling?" He shimmied out of his dress. The German licked his lips, imaging the salt and musk and warmth of Flavio's skin on his tongue.

"I know you'll take good care of me."

Lutz left Flavio's room close to an hour later looking like a satisfied mess. His clothes were wrinkled and his hair was in more disarray than usual. All of the marks that had been given to him by Luciano had been darkened to hickeys by Flavio's mouth. God, Flavio had one helluva mouth! Lutz was so lost in his thoughts that he nearly ran into someone while exiting the club. It was Roland. He was wearing a dress and a feather boa and a sheen of sweat over his freckled skin.

"Well well well, don't you look pleased as punch. I was looking for you after I heard what Luciano did, but you weren't anywhere to be found. I should have expected you were with our sweetheart." Lutz chuckled.

"You know how Flav is." That was really all that needed to be said. Both men were well aware of how Flavio could act akin to an incubus when given the chance. "How was your performance?"

"Resplendent! I sang. I danced. I was a star."

"As always. I'm sorry I missed it." He glanced at his watch and sighed. "Fuck. It's an ungodly hour. I'm going to see if I can get a meal before Luciano decides he needs me again."

"But didn't you just eat?" Roland leered. A smirk curled to Lutz's mouth at the man's suggestiveness.

"He did most of the eating actually."

"That would explain the lipstick all over your face. Here darling, I got it." His lithe fingers tenderly wiped away the smears of crimson.

"Thanks, poppy." He pecked a kiss on his hand. "Auf Wiedersehen."

"Auf Wiedersehen!" He pressed his lips to the corner of Lutz's mouth and flounced away, a lovely creature of silk and feathers.

"Beilschmidt." How a voice so cold could hold any amount of amusement Lutz did not know, but the lilt of Luciano's voice over each syllable of his name held traces of venomous delight.

"Boss." Lutz turned around. Luciano held a half empty glass of red wine between his fingers. His other hand held his gun.

"What was that?"

"Excuse me-?"

"What was that little interaction between you and the poof?" He gestured the way Roland had gone with his weapon.

"Roland, he- he was just being friendly. You know how he can be." Lutz rambled on while Luciano drained the rest of his drink.

"You aren't a faggot, are you?" His heart beat wildly in his throat, his throat that was covered in purpling hickeys given to him by a man who kissed frightened tears from his cheeks and whispered, 'Darling, my beloved darling' while making him see the cosmos dance behind his eyes.

"Of course not. That would be disgusting."

"Good. You may be pathetic, but at least you're not a filthy cocksucker like my brother." He said this as if he were giving a compliment. "You screwed up earlier but honestly you're a reliable member of this family. You do as you're told, like a well-trained dog. I can appreciate that in those who work for me. I demand loyalty."

"Loyalty," he echoed.

"You've always been loyal to me, Lutz. You will reap the rewards of your loyalty soon." He shoved his empty glass into Lutz's hands. "I have some paperwork to do. Stay around here and watch for any suspicious activity."

"Yes sir." He turned to leave his boss's presence as soon as possible but was stopped. Oh god why did he have to be stopped?

"Lutz." He forced himself to look over his shoulder.

"Yes sir?" His voice wavered. He was looking down the barrel of a gun.

"I'm glad you're not a faggot because if you were I would have to blow your brains out."

Lutz felt air become trapped in his constricting throat. Cold sweat beaded down his back. He was silent even though he wanted to scream. He was still even though he wanted to flee. He was drowning, and Luciano laughed and laughed and laughed.

Lutz's body heaved viciously with the force of his vomiting. Tears wet his cheeks and no one was there to kiss them away. He sobbed his shame curled up on the tiles of the bathroom.