After shaking out of his momentary thought attack. Dubliner watches as Vince reaches out for the Riverfront Project folder and he turns his gaze to the Downtown Revitalization folder. He reaches out and pulls it towards him. Opening it, he scours through the pages quickly as Isabella continues to speak. 

"Ms. Luciano, you can rest assured Motown can handle the Downtown Revitalization. Piece of cak--piece of Donut, really. I'll have me and my gang out and about doing what we can. I'll be in touch post-meeting for some small details if you'd like, or if you'd prefer to throw it out in this meeting since we both have two members represented."

Dubliner sits back and waits for Isabella's word.

A few days later.

Lushie was up in her room at the lighthouse, getting ready for an evening meal out with Jewel. The two ladies had decided to go to their boss, Don Isabella-Luciano's restaurant for dinner. They weren't sure if anyone else would be joining them there or not but had left a note on the notice board down in the lobby.

Jewel was off in her room dolling herself up and Lushie was in hers, attempting to do the same. Lushie was struggling to decide what to wear, she wasn't much of a colourful kind of lady when it came to clothes. She attempted a lovely aqua coloured dress first and checked herself in the mirror "Nope, just no" she exhaled saying as she soon pulled it off to try on another in lime green to pretty much say the same. She sighed and pulled out her favourite black little dress from the wardrobe and placed that on. Immediately she felt more at ease, "and I can wear my boots!" she said happily as she went to dig them out from the closet too. She pulled on her boots to wear then checked her hair and makeup, "Just one more thing" she muttered as she picked up her perfume bottle and sprayed some on. "Tadaaaa!" she said with a huge grin on her face as she spun herself.

She had arranged to meet Jewel down in the bar at the lighthouse before they went out. She walked into the room with the bar and was amazed she was in their first. Lushie didn't mind, it meant she had time to go pour herself a martini as she awaited Jewel to get ready and to see if any of the others fancy a night out at The Blackhawk Resturant.

Isabella entered the lighthouse.  For the first time in months, it was silent aside from the mechanical sounds far above near to the room that had been her office.  Outside a truck and her car waited to take her away - but she had to see the place one last time.  It was the first Tower to have been gutted of her crew by the hands of its leader instead of the bullets of its enemies.  Isabella knew she should feel some sort of regret about that - but after having endured the pain of burying one man she hadn't been wise enough to seize a life with while she could... she wouldn't go through it a second time.  At least not if she had a choice.

Isabella walked through the kitchen where she'd shared breakfast with William_Bowden, where she'd had arguments with her father, and even a small food fight - though it would never compare to the infamous hot dog experience of the Luciano Crime Family with her friends Draven & Donny_Donowitz.  The memory of that incident made her smile.  She had thought this place wouldn't feel like home after leaving her Father's crew... but it had, in time.  Philly would be the same way.  A new leader to follow - a lot to get used to in that concept right there - and a new family to call her own.  Her future husband's family.  It seemed right and yet, she felt nostalgic as she went up the stairs to her office one final time.

She remembered the first time she and Elias had come here together.  She could almost hear his voice in the walls, 'My Ivory Princess' ... She'd thought she'd known herself then, and maybe she had?  Maybe all that had happened had caused her to become someone new - perhaps the Princess died in the war against Seattle/Vegas/and LA and from her ashes, a Dragon had arisen?  

Isabella pushed the door open and looked around the room devoid of furniture, echoes of Lushie, Jewel, Calimero_DiGrazia, and even the traitor Stephen_Strange greeted her.  Thoughts about what she'd wanted do here plague her - a completely new beginning for downtown and a riverfront project that would have rivaled Race Street Pier Operation... it would all remain unfinished now.  Comparatively the Princess of the Ivory Tower Isabella-Luciano had done far less than her predecessors: the martyr LuckyLucy and the overly ambitious Frankie-Messina; but she would do what both women had lived & died lamenting they could not and that she told herself was enough.

The Ivory Tower was a place of ideas, of hopes too pure and good for this thing of ours.  It was a place I could have run before the war... before Agent Garrett, but not now.  I'm not that naive girl anymore. 

Isabella ran her hand along the large window sill looking out onto the St. Claire river below, her heels clicking loudly with each step on the steel floor.  The weight of her own sins played out in her mind as well as the sins of her predecessors.  Had Lucy been strong enough to carry out her vision?  Had Frankie been good enough?  

She considered, not for the first time, that Frankie should have walked away as she was doing now.  She contemplated that Frankie and Tony could have lived happily in Sicily, her ambition alone had killed that great love.  Lucy, on the other hand, was a victim in all the ways one could be.  Kind to a fault, content to never be a Don she'd become one in a moment that no one should ever have to endure... and while she didn't have the mettle to be a Godmother it would long be argued she was robbed in not having been made one - perhaps only because her bloodline was viewed too new to these shores despite her time in power and all the respect she'd gathered in that time.

Stopping in the middle of the room she closed her eyes and listened to the sound of the spinning light above her and for a moment, the weight of it could be felt - as if she were connected to it as if it were a crown.  The memory of her own ambition tugged on her.  That one time, that precious one, when she'd considered what it might be like to pursue what her father Salvatore_Luciano and step-mother Marie_Lucania had gone after in their lives. 

Godfather. 

The word sent a chill down through her body, a longing that she dared not to acknowledge now - this part of her life was the price for the other.  Marie and Salvatore knew damn well that it was one or the other - for all they tried to pretend... they were lonely and their lives were a series of stolen moments.  For all the respect they had, for all the money and power, neither of them had enough to have what should have been the easiest of all things in the world.  Their love.  Time.  And one day, God send it would be a long way off, she'd watch them do what Lucy and Frankie had both lived through.

Down the stairs she went, stopping at the table near the door to pick up two tattered journals and one newer one which she herself had penned.  Stepping out of the shadowy interior of the Tower and into the bright light of day she was forced to shield her eyes.  She drew a breath of cool air coming off the water.  

"We ready to go Ma'am?"  Linval asked.

"Not just yet."  She said.  "I've got one more thing to do."  With determination, she took long strides out to the water's edge, where she put the journals of the Dons of the Ivory Tower into the dirt and then she knelt down.  Fishing into her purse she produced a book of matches.  Opening Frankie's journal first she struck a match and watched as the red gold flame came to life on the tip of sulfur.  The burning scent filled her nostrils as the pages caught quick and easy - dried out from the first fire they'd escaped in Seattle.  The last bits of Frankie Messina DiCaprio was gone from this world in mere moments, destined to be forgotten by everyone and never mentioned again.

Opening her own journal she thumbed through the pages looking at her words about Elias, about finding her father, burying her mother, and finding her sister Eleonora_Luciano once again.  And of course a fair amount about Will, GavinandTaraByrne and about the members of her crew both new and old who'd been with her until the very end of it all.  Striking the match she stared at the flame until it was guttering.  Only at the last possible moment did she force herself to put the match onto the pages.  Pages curled before crumbling as if she was watching the past suffering through a prolonged and painful death.  The final page to burn lingered longer the others and she could read the recounting of a kiss that had nearly ended everything.  

Finally, she looked at Lucky Lucy's journal.  She opened it and glanced through at the story of Lucy's father and mother - the unlikely Irish and Italian couple.  A cop and a mobster.  The woman was a contradiction, a truly kind soul leading murderers and thieves.  She never should have come into this thing in Bella's opinion.  She paused at photos of Lucy and Frank DiCaprio as children, and of their daughter Katy.  Of all the stories she'd heard in this life - of gangsters and molls, Lucy's stood out. 

Isabella looked at the book of matches in her hand and put them into her pocket.  "SONNY!"  Isabella called out loud enough to be heard at the cars and dug into her purse producing a large sum of money.  The boy came running.

"Yes, Don Luciano?"  The young man said, lifting his cap.  "Watcha need?"

"I've never pushed you to tell me who you are - even though we both know damn well that your family isn't just 'some family' in the old country."  The boy said nothing.  Isabella pressed on.  "You won't offer your story to me... will you?"

The boy shook his head, no.  "Not unless you're gonna make me, Don Luciano."

"Bella."

The boy arched an eyebrow.

"Call me, Bella."  She said standing up.

"Sure thing... Bella."

Isabella held out the journal of Lucky Lucy to the boy and the large stack of cash.  "Everything you need is here.  Everything that matters... the best of it.  You'll hear there are others and when you do, you tell them that those who failed don't deserve to be remembered.  And when, if, you should prove to be worthy of that... you'll know what to do."

"I can't read..." He whispered.  

"Then learn,"  Isabella replied.  "Everyone changes, Santino DiCaprio.  The trick is knowing who you are and who you want to be."  She smiled and ruffled the boy's hair, and gave him Lucy's last sage words of advice from the journal,  "Do Better.  Be Better."  

"You're leaving me?"  He called after her.  She paused and turned to look back, on the ground near his feet she noticed a turtle.  She walked back and pet the shell of the familiar little creature.  

"I'm a dragon."  She admitted.  "I have no place here.  My Tower isn't Ivory... it's Ebony.  Don't worry, Kid, you're gonna be alright.  You're a natural.  You'll make it big in this world.  Trust me, just read the book."  

Standing up, Isabella walked away leaving the DiCaprio boy and the Ivory Tower in her past; bound for the future joy she would hoard like the Dragon she'd chosen to be.  If there ever would be an Ivory Tower in the future, it would fall on someone else's shoulders, but very likely the Cosa Nostra had seen the last of Lucy's grand dream and Bella wasn't so sure that was a bad thing at all.

 I had just returned to pack up my stuff. This tower will never be forgotten, or the memories made...those late night talks, well more like drunkard talks that we would not have remembered the next day. The one time GF Sal showed up and we all made ourselves disapear. You know, I couldnt blame Don Isabella at all, she is doing what is right for her. I am keeping my RH sheriff star to remember how she gave me that shot as well. She has faith in people. I would like to hope the people that ran these walls, (and sometimes into them, smearing their drunkerd blood) will remember the times in this place for years to come, fondly as I do, I hope.