Leo's development had been coming along in leaps and bounds. His instincts were at an all time high, the doberman breed capturing his spirit and then some. Protective. Loyal. Smart. And above all else, not to be fucked with. As Joe edged closer to the clinic he could hear Leo barking up a frenzy. He was here to take Ilaria out to dinner. Somewhere nice. He'd even sent her over a new dress and a necklace from the business he and Madeline had just opened up on The Pier.

As he made his way into the entrance down the alley, Leo's roar hinted at something in Joe. Maybe something was up. He felt the pang in his gut. He wasn't usually this boisterous. With a tug at the back door, out bounced Ilaria's guard dog, still barking up a frenzy. He took off without even caring to notice Joe's arrival, which was odd given how well the two got on. He'd always be there to meet him with a playfulness and loyalty Adonis returned willingly.

"Leo!" Joe shouted after him, before dropping the flowers and giving chase.

Over Columbus Boulevard and down Race Street they went, as the sun above started to take on the lighter colors and splash them across the sky as it set. Not again, Joe thought as he persisted towards where he could still hear Leo yapping. Joe glanced at his watch as he dodged a car that was beeping. They had to be at the reservation in a half hour. He focused himself more, pumped his arms harder and let his legs show what all the gym work he'd been putting in meant.

He could see him a little ways ahead, sniffing at the bottom of a door to an abandoned building. Finally catching up with Leo, Joe placed his hands on his thighs, sucking in air.

"The fuck, boy?"

"Woof! Woof!"

He still seemed to be onto something and wasn't letting up, his bark saying it wasn't time to rest.

"What is it, boy?"

His paws began scratching at the doorway. Joe's attention was initially on not letting his Asthma take him over, yet with his new preventative measures, part of which came from Ilaria's know how and his uptake in cardiovascular training, he was starting to get the better of the condition. After a moment of catching his breath, he turned his sights onto the building in front of him.

Boarded up were the windows. It looked like a place that had a firm hold on not wanting the inner to mix with the outer, and vice versa. Like they were two separate worlds, and not suppose to be experienced in the same setting. The door itself, a large wooden one, and beyond it and the two first story peepers nothing else was noticeable.

Leo was at attention, his tail straightened and his ears pulled back even more so. He was pointing towards the door, in a sense. Joe didn't have time for this. Not with Ilaria back at the clinic and his promise to finally take her out somewhere nice. They'd been spending so much time at the office, all their 'them time' seemed less and less romantic. And that was one thing he enjoyed being with her.

He didn't have time, but what else could he do? Leo was onto something. With a removal of his colt revolver, Joe pulled open the door and stepped inside. Leo flew in first, sniffing and darting around.

"Leo!" Joe said in a hush, his weapon at the ready.

Looking around he couldn't see anything of note. It seemed a squatters area, with some people laying on makeshift mattresses in and around squalor shacks made out of things one would find on the very streets they were practically still sleeping on. It wasn't a good sight to see, and had Joe even more on edge. Moving even quicker through the open space in the middle of the building's man made urban village, was the doberman.

The sight of Leo sniffing about and darting here there and everywhere as if hot on a trail had Adonis quietly impressed. He looked the goods, and in more dire situations he'd be a real asset to their owners. Following his tracking efforts, Joe moved towards an area where Leo seemed to be reluctant to leave. It looked like sleeping quarters for someone and they looked to be tucked up in bed, the bulging blankets hinting at a body underneath.

With weapon still pointed forwards and his feet shuffling closer to where Leo sat, Joe bent down and gave him a pat on the head.

"Good boy." He said in a low tone, which set the dog's shortened tail wagging.

Ilaria was putting in the last of her sapphire earrings when she heard Leo begin to bark wildly. Assuming it was the mail, Ilaria didn't think much of it.

"Leo, hush darling!" 

Truthfully, her voice wasn't as authoritative as it should have been, but she was too busy admiring the sparkling sapphires of the white gold necklace in the open velvet box before her. Joe had excellent, and expensive, taste in jewelry; but Ilaria loved it. She loved that he liked to spoil her with these types of gifts, and would happily saunter around in the high end jewels and fashion if he enjoyed seeing her that way.

Joe's voice came echoing from downstairs, but then both his and Leo's trailed off excitedly. That didn't sound right. Putting down the necklace, she went out of her room toward the stairway. 

"Joe? Leo?" 

She called downstairs, but heard nothing but the sound of traffic echoing in the alley, which meant the back door was open. Her stomach flip-flopped with a bad feeling. Quickly, Ilaria ran down the stairs, clad only in her slip and nylons. As she hit the last step and rounded the corner, she ran directly into something large and heavy. Stumbling back, she realized it was a huge mountain of a man in black clothes, and behind him, a slender  dark haired woman was coming through the open back door. Ilaria didn't recognize her, but she did recognize the Magnolia blossom tattoo on her shoulder. 

Ilaria tried to side-step the imposing figure to dart for her office and the revolver in the drawer, but the stranger reached out and yanked her hard by the arm. The woman let out a chuckle. 

"Sorry, Doctor lady, not today."

The hulking man had a ridiculously strong grip, and Ilaria's wriggling and pulling was fruitless. She let out a scream, but the woman was ready for it, and stuffed a rag soaked with quinine under her nose. Ilaria felt her legs go weak. She tried once again to scream, but a dark cover was thrown over her head. Then the quinine took its full effect and her body went limp. 

While the brute pulled Ilaria up over his shoulder, the woman pulled a folded piece of paper from her waist and unfolded it. She then took a small knife from her boot and used it to pin the paper to the door they came in. 

Checkmate, we've got your Queen.

Don't underestimate us, you're not as powerful as you like to believe, Don Adonis. You may run the streets, but we own them from the shadows, and you haven't paid your fair share.

9 p.m., West dock, ramp 72

Bring no one but yourself and nothing but 50 million in cash.

Try anything slick and we'll break her. Do not test us. 

 There was no signature, but none was needed. The knife lodged in the door was easy to recognize. Leaving the door open, the woman walked out, followed by the man with Ilaria laid over his massive shoulder. 

Something didn't sit right. It didn't feel right. The lump in the squatting quarters wasn't moving. Dead? Maybe. Or something else. Joe moved forward and kicked at it, then dropped his guard as his gun took a weighted hang at his side. He now knew. And as he bent down and pulled back the cover, it was confirmed. Nothing but a bunch of rags and a potato sack full of more rags.

A distinctive jumper that was laying on top of it all did look familiar though. It was one he'd seen a street sweeper wearing who worked around the clinic. That must've been what had Leo's attention, Joe thought. He idled on it, and tried to piece it together as he knelt before the bits and pieces made to look like someone had been sleeping here, and still was.

Dog's had senses we couldn't tap into. It still perplexed him, and it would for time to come. Leo had gone missing three times in the past fortnight, and suddenly returned as if of his own accord. Joe put it down to him having got out from the clinic and was off exploring. Dog's were curious. Leo was smart. But maybe there was now more to that. His mind was ticking over, then it hit him like a ton of bricks.

With a sharp change of thought and as if being slapped across the back of the head, he suddenly turned and scurried for his footing as he began to take off and move quickly back the way he came. His gun was holstered and the need to stay quiet no longer an issue. He kicked at things in his way and all but jumped through the door upon exiting the homeless shelter.

With Leo hot on his heels, they were pacing back down Race Street towards the clinic.

'Ilaria. How could I be so stupid.'

He had no time to waste and due to his frantic need to get back to check on Ilaria he almost got taken out by a bicycle. Then, a skidding Ford that almost clipped his heels and another braking vehicle as he bounced up onto the sidewalk towards the Pier entrance. Leo was with him, stride by stride, his little legs and paws making short work of the ground beneath him. His look was just as determined as Joe's and as if he too were in the know that they needed to be as quick as possible.

With a final push he flung himself around the corner and headed towards the front door. As he got closer, his stomach sank. He saw it immediately. A knife holding up a letter. Before even reading it he'd kicked over a pot plant and threw a chair across the front area toward the Pier's edge. How could he be so stupid? Finally having let his initial frustrations free, he walked towards the door that likely had a note so welcome note on it. He held onto it as the knife was jerked out of the door.

More barking now filled the air. Leo knew too. He was too smart not to. After they both entered the clinic and took a quick look around, he began whimpering, before Joe scooped him up into his arms. With a hearty rub on his neck and a scratch of his chin, Joe let him know it would be alright.

"It's alright, boy. No-one fucks with us and gets away with it."

"Woof!"

His response affirmed it. They weren't going to take this lying down, standing, or any which way. These fucks were going to pay. But first, he'd have to seek out Ray and Del Rossi. He still couldn't read to save his life, or Ilaria's.

"She's hot. Like, real fuckin' hot. I bet Adonis gets into that action every chance he gets."

The unfamiliar voice was gravely, and the laugh that followed had the distinct wheeze of someone who had been smoking for decades. 

"Yeah, but Adonis ain't here now, is he?" 

The quinine was wearing off slowly, but Ilaria had enough of her wits about her to pay attention to what she could. There was a sack or a hood of some kind over her head, and her feet and ankles were tied to a wooden straight chair. Through the hood, she could smell a mixture of cigarette smoke, salty air, and what seemed to be dead fish. Still wearing only her slip, she shivered against the chill. Outside, she heard a loud clanging bell. They must be close to the river. She didn't move, hoping her captors would keep talking if they thought she was still out.

Booted footsteps came close to her, and it took everything she had not to shudder with disgust as a hand grazed over her thigh. 

"The fuck you think you're doing, Jimmy? Bossman is gonna be here any second, and you know we ain't supposed to touch the goods." 

"Ah, it's just a little petting, she won't know anyway."

Ilaria could sense a face near her, and heard breath as someone inhaled her scent.

"Jimmy! Back off, you perverted sack of shit!" 

The voice belonged to the woman with the tattoo. Ilaria breathed slowly and evenly, willing her pulse to slow down. 

"Boss is here. Go get the truck ready."

The night was drafty. Adonis' jacket lightly flapped in the breeze. Splashes of water hit the sides of the dock which in turn continually rocked an anchored boat into a wooden pillar nearby. These were the sounds most present, that were lightly muffled by the breeze itself. He was standing just in front of an overhead lamp, with the light just showing his figure as the rest of the darkness around him seemed to be fighting to consume the sight of him.

There were little spots of light from other lamps around the docks, but where Joe was, at ramp 72, little else but this one source was available. He'd been here for a few minuets already. And by a few, he'd been here for the past half an hour himself. He wanted to make his presence known to anyone close by that had their eyes on the joint. That, and he had something else in mind.

By all outward appearances he was the only one here. Besides a pal he just couldn't leave back at the clinic. Leo was scratching himself with a constant flick of his hind leg against his right cheek. He seemed to be enjoying it for more than just the itch it was relieving, as he was a little lost in the activity. That was, until the sound of a truck could be heard off in the distance and a set of headlights could be faintly seen.

With Leo now standing at attention, and Joe doing exactly the same, they were finally going to encounter the one's behind the letter. At least that was the idea and what Del Rossi said it read. 9pm. West Dock. Ramp 72. 50 million in cash. The black suitcase next to Joe's right foot had the goods. They were in the right place, ramp 72. And as the lights got a little more flashy, bouncing up and down with the dock terrain, Joe checked his watch. 9pm.

The truck bounced roughly over potholes and cracks. Thankfully, Ilaria was no longer tied to a chair, but she was still bound at the feet and ankles, sitting upright on a bench in the back of the canvas covered truck. 

Before she had "come to," she heard talk about ransom money. $50 million dollars to be exact. But something didn't seem right about that. Why hadn't they demanded more? Midas Air had $50 million easily in hangar and repair funds. It was a lot of money, but not that much. 

​​​​​​When the truck came to a stop, she heard a number of weapons being loaded and cocked. What's with all the heavy artillery of this is just a simple exchange? Feet hit the pavement as the three figures exited the truck. First out was the tattooed woman, Olga. Next, her boss Russiv. Boris, the giant, was last, and the truck visibly evened out as his weight transferred to the dock. 

Ilaria heard a tense half-bark-half-whine from outside. It was Leo. Joe must be there. She wasn't let out of the truck. She barely breathed, still shivering, trying to listen for his voice. 

The headlights of the truck joined that of the streetlamp, creating a path through the darkness from where Joe was to where the truck was coming to a halt, 60 odd yards in front. He could taste the crispness coming off the water. It reminded him to be cold. To stay, cold. These guys had taken something of his. And not just a possession you could recreate or even pinch back in a to and fro of criminal superiority. It was his heart that had been yanked out and leveraged, so being fully devoid of compassion here on out was a given.

As three bodies piled out, Leo arched his back and began to growl. He wasn't old enough yet to be let loose on them. And Joe had thought of that. It was a picture that played through his mind on the way over, to simply pull out a colt revolver and rush them with his dog beside him. They'd likely die in the process, but it would be for a good cause and with a buddy he'd not hesitate to run into a fire fight with. Of course, they were thoughts of fancy and he'd finally settled on a much more appropriate way to handle things.

Instead, Joe stood his ground. As the three made their way around the front of the truck, Leo let out a hearty bark that had a mix of a loyal protector missing their owner. His ears were peeled back and his body pointed straight ahead. He looked sharp. Leo the Lion looked like he was about ready to tear through the Savanna and eat everything in his path.

"You got the goods?" Called out Olga as she raised her rifle and leaned it against her shoulder.

Boris also looked a sight. He had, in comparison to what the others were holding and his own mammoth bulk, the smallest gun of them all. The handgun hung at his side but it looked more like a water pistol based on the hand that seemed like it was devouring it. 

Olga shuffled her stance, letting her weight sit on her back leg as the tip of her black heeled boot coquettishly tapped at the ground in front of her. All the while, Russiv was staunch and silent and had a submachine gun at the ready. His pose was similar to Joe's, which upon noticing that had Adonis tuck his hands into his trouser pockets.

Removing both mitts, and with a lighter and a cigarette, Joe sparked the end of a lucky strike snipe. He sucked in his first smoke for the day. Ever since Italy he'd cut back on smoking altogether. He wanted to make some changes. Some lasting reversals of what his life had been up until the moment he saw Ilaria broken and the instant he knew without a shadow of a doubt who it was his heart now tore apart for with every beat.

But in life, not everything went as planned. A simple dinner seemed to always end the two in some trouble. Sure, dessert first was a more pleasant offering of the term. But they couldn't simply stop eating because one, or both of them could be killed. You had to roll with what was and see where it took you. Ride Guaio with a smile and hopefully a revealing smoke and a sip of whisky afterwards, before saddling up to do it all over again.

As he let out a longer than needed hold of his breath, the exhaling smoke quickly dissipated with some fog. With a quick glance at Leo, Joe picked up the suitcase with a smooth swipe and slowly walked forwards. As he did, he noticed Boris' grip shuffle on the handgun, Olga's toying toe retract into a straight up posture and Russiv not batter an eyelid.

Olga let out an impatient sigh and snapped her fingers. 

"Come on, big shot. Mister Russiv doesn't have all night."

Her Eastern European accent was sharp and demanding. 

Inside the truck, Ilaria's mind was running at a thousand miles an hour. She still suspected the trio had far more evil intentions than simply skimming fifty million from a businessman worth well more than that. Unfortunately, there was very little she could do bound and hooded in the back of a truck. 

She still hadn't heard Joe's voice. That's when it hit her that he was prepared. Some way or another, he was a step ahead of the Russians. 

Joe kept walking. Left foot, right foot. Left, right. Slow, precise steps. He had all the time in the world, no matter the persistence of the mouth of the group. He figured Ilaria would be in the back of the truck. If she wasn't, he'd deal with that when the time came. For now, he had to take care of what was before him. The deal, and whatever else came of it.

Stopping a few feet from the trio, Joe placed the suitcase down at his side. Leo was right there with him, his growl now more fierce than ever.

"Cute puppy."

Olga had a grin on her face. She figured they were in the drivers seat. They had Ilaria. They had the fire power and the man power. And soon, they'd have the money.

Joe still kept his cool as the cold breeze off the water tickled the back of his neck. It sent a shiver down his spine. The smoke he'd lit was hanging between his lips, a little off to the side so it didn't waft into his eyes and cause him to blink. He wanted to see all of what was to come. He didn't trust them in the slightest and any blink or sudden loss of concentration could be fatal. To all of them.

"So, you gonna hand over that case or wha'?"

She really did like to hear herself speak, Joe thought as he finally took another puff of the cigarette. He drew in the smoke nice and slow, holding the snipe between his forefinger and thumb as he did. Squinting, he pulled it out of his mouth. As he exhaled, his once straight laced, straight faced look changed into a slow yet quickly building smile.

To the surprise of the others, he began laughing.

Russiv still seemed unaffected, by Joe's presence and by what was looking to become manic laughter. His patience seemed to have no limit. Seemed to.

"So we gonna do this funny guy?" He finally snorted, with an even thicker accent than Olga's.

He was calm, but not without being unfazed. He led the Magnolia's. An assassin outfit, as they called themselves. The flower itself was a calling card. What they'd leave at a scene to let others know they were there and likely would be again, at some point, somewhere. They loved the thrill of killing. It was less about business and definitely about pleasure.

Their leader, he held a reputation. He always seemed cool, calm and collected. Even when lashing out or being an example of their brutal way of life, he didn't seem to get caught up in the emotions others did. He looked serene when in the midst of what others felt as fury. Like he was simply tying his shoes, as he crushed their windpipe. He liked the simplicity of the kill. The raw hands on experience.

Olga on the other hand, was a little less Zen about it. She craved the look in someone's eyes as they began to realize the gun she had pointed at them was going to be the last thing they saw. Their fear was what drove her. That and the need to make as much money doing it as possible. She had expensive tastes and if given the opportunity she'd suck the world dry of all its riches just to dress herself in them instead.

The sparkle from the headlights behind her ears showed a set of diamonds, proving just how much she loved the lavish life. And Joe, noticing it, calmed himself from tipping from the point of a hearty release into a maniacal episode. He took another puff of the cigarette, thinking just how much of a shame it would be to lose that bit of jewelry in all of this. It could make a nice memento, he thought, then flicked the still lit cigarette towards the ground a little in front of where he was standing.

The lucky strikes snipe hit the asphalt, then bounced up a little ways before laying itself down again.

"Yes, we are doing this." Joe retorted.

Borris, who was for the most part just a big framed distraction, was still toying with the gun in his big paws when he noticed it. At first, he thought it was a reflection from the headlights. But that quickly turned into a realization of what it was. His eyes bulged as he saw the flames take off, seemingly out of nowhere, and begin to grow bigger and bigger as it rushed towards them.

The cigarette had ignited a dousing of flammable liquid, kerosene to be exact, taken from the Midas airfield and which was quickly growing and spreading towards the them and the truck.

From the back of the truck, Ilaria finally heard Joe's voice. It was soft, as if he were a distance away, but also startlingly cold.

"Yes, we are doing this."

The tone of his reply was strange; not so much a reply to a question as it was a statement. 

There was a moment of silence, followed by a whooshing; then she could hear all three of the Russians begin yelling and cursing frantically. That's when Ilaria smelled the kerosene.

"Holy shit."

Before she could even think to do anything at all, she heard the canvas shuffle in front of her. A hot rush of air filled the back of the truck. Ilaria lurched backwards. 

"Who's there?" 

"Who do you think?"

The sarcastic response came from a familiar voice, and Ilaria let it a sigh of relief. 

"Del Rossi, thank goodness you're-" 

An ear-splitting bang shattered the night air as one of the truck tires exploded as it set aflame. Del Rossi threw himself over Ilaria until he was sure it was done.

"You can thank whoever you want later. Let's go."

He yanked the hood off Ilaria and grabbed her, literally tossing her over his shoulder. He bolted away from the truck and yelled. 

"We're clear!" 

Another truck tire exploded. Craning her neck to look behind her, Ilaria saw Olga scream as she was engulfed in flames. Del Rossi hung a hard left and ran to the Zeppelin. He flung open the back seat and got her in. As he started to reach for his knife, Ilaria shook her head. 

"I'm fine. Go to him."

With Del Rossi on the move, things were already a little too hot to handle. Olga was already a third of the way to a stay in hell by hitting the ground running. Her screams were something nightmares were made of. But that didn't detract Joe from doing what he'd been waiting to do since he found the note pegged into the door at the clinic.

Russiv had scattered as soon as the fire had swarmed. It took off quickly and gave him little time to do anything else. And once he saw Olga alight and Joe on the war path, he knew what his best option was.

Borris though, he wasn't as lucky as his soon to be former employer. After flicking the cigarette onto the flaming trap, Joe bent down onto one knee and flicked open the suitcase. Out of it he pulled a hatchet. Leo was already onto Borris who'd tried making himself scarce like his boss. But unlike Russiv, Borris wasn't as agile. A snap of the jaw and Leo had his teeth into the ogre's leg, which scraped its way into a solid grip on his pants, cutting a deep gash and having the man let out an unhappy yelp.

What began as a slow, controlled, and confident stride turned into a quickened sprint as Joe noticed Borris' hand raise, the gun pointing at Leo. One shot rang out. Then two, as the bodyguard to a quickly disintegrating unit tried handling the terror that was Adonis and Ilaria's doberman. Before a third could aim and likely hit the mark, the hatchet smashed against Borris' forearm. Joe put everything he had behind it. So much, that it shattered both his radius and ulna and cut most of the way through, leaving it hanging from a thread.

The weapon was blunt. There was no use sharpening something if the intention wasn't to use it for a quick slice and dice. It was instead maintained as a means to brutalize the enemy. And anyone fucking with Joe's business or the ones he held dear were just the types to cop such a specific form of punishment.

"Leo, Ilaria. Go!"

More screams followed. Olga at this point was on the ground, squealing and squirming. Leo had let go of his grip and was now headed toward the truck. His medium sized legs pumped away as his paws slapped against the cold terrain.

No sooner than Del Rossi had gotten Ilaria to the car, Leo came bounding over from the direction of the blaze and leaped into the car.  He was bouncing excitedly in Ilaria's lap, licking her and nearly knocking her back as Del Rossi cut the ropes around her wrists.  She threw her arms around the dog and stroked his fur over and over.

"What a big boy you are, huh?  So smart; my brave little lion man."

After a few moments of giving the pup praise and attention, Ilaria cast a concerned glance back toward the fire. She could hear the screams of the woman had stopped, and had been replaced by a bone-chilling howl from the big brute, Boris. The fire had now engulfed the truck. It was only a matter of time before the whole thing exploded.  Despite craning her neck, she couldn't see Joe, and Del Rossi had disappeared into thick smoke after him.  Where were they?  Where was Russiv?  

Shaking her head, Ilaria knew she couldn't just sit there.  She reached down and began trying to loosen the ropes from around her ankles. 

With another swift hack, the hatchet found its mark. This time, the back of the blade was used to sweep the oaf off of his feet. He was crying out in pain, attempting to hold what was left of his trigger hand before Adonis mounted him and rained down fist after fist.

As Del Rossi made his way over, Joe was already well into beating Borris' face into itself. He rested his non dominant hand on the side of his bloodied and quickly bruising mug as his other kept at it, and as blood splatters were continually ignored.

Eventually, all his driver could do was grab the hatchet himself and make his way over to Olga to end her last moments with a bit of dignity. He left Joe to unleash his fury, as only he could. If he were to get in the way, there was no telling what Adonis would do. He'd learned that in an alley close to Race Street pier.

The sound of a gunshot startled Ilaria just as she rounded the corner back toward the scene of the chaos. Looking toward the sound, she saw Del Rossi lowering his gun from a body still in flames. The smell of charred flesh and burning rubber hung thick in the air. Ilaria was shaking from the chill as she slowed down, hugging her arms over her bare shoulders. 

Looking past Del Rossi, she found Joe. He was hunched over the body of Boris, whose mangled arm lay a few inches away from a bloody ax. There was something different about Joe, and not just a little. He was beating the man to an unidentifiable pulp. Over and over, his fist smashed through flesh and bone, splattering blood with every hit. She could barely see Joe's face, but the anger radiated from him hotter than the nearby flames.

She stepped closer to him and started to reach for his shoulder, but Del Rossi quickly stopped her, shaking his head. 

"You don't want to do that."

Ilaria looked at Del Rossi, wanting to protest, but then looked back at Joe and the rage in his eyes. He was right, reaching for Joe was not the best idea; but she had to do something. Boris was clearly dead. 

"Mia amore." 

She spoke gently, but loud enough that he should have been able to hear.

"Joe, he's gone. They all are. It's ok now."

Ilaria had never seen Joe like this. She'd seen him angry, but she had never seen this level of pure rage overtake him before. It was fearful to see, but Ilaria wasn't frightened of him. She still wanted to touch him, to let him know she was there, but she knew he may not be in total control of his fists. 

Leo padded over and paused, looking at Joe and seemingly trying to decide if he was supposed to attack or be still. Ilaria bent down and gave the dog a reassuring squeeze and scratch behind the ears. He whimpered, sitting down and still looking at his Master. 

"Mia amore."

Something stopped him as he stretched his arm back again. Like it was grabbing at his shirt. He was breathing heavy. He could feel the heat in his body, within his being. And the more he let that something become more of a focus the more he slowly realized he was in the thick of it. He wanted to keep punching it out of him. With each fist drawn and struck, it was like an order was being complete. Like he was simply doing what he was suppose to be doing, without hesitation. But now those orders seemed empty.

"Mia amore."

It echoed through him again. It was the words. Her voice. It pierced through him, breaking the shackles, like the axe he'd used to break Borris' spirit. And suddenly he felt the blood on his face. He wiped at it with the back of his now shaking hand across his forehead, smearing more than clearing the warm gore.

"Joe, he's gone. They all are. It's ok now."

Her words were now clear. The adrenaline was still pumping yet the realization of the energy that overtook him had him jarred as he tried to regain control of himself. He was still reeling from the effects of the rage and as he turned and rolled off of the dead body it could be seen in his staggered movements. And in his eyes. They were wide, wild, unrelenting. He gave a quick glance up and at Ilaria before rolling onto his back. Taking a deep breath, he fiddled at his pocket, searching for a cigarette.

She saw the change; the way his right mind slowly shook off the immediate rage. With a soft sigh of relief, she finally moved closer to him and knelt on the pavement, patting her lap for him to rest his head there. 

"I missed you." 

Her voice was soft as she spoke, and she ran her cold hand through his hair. She was relieved to see him, safe. There was an inordinate amount of blood all over him, most likely a majority belonging to Boris. As Joe raised a hand to light a smoke, she could tell his knuckles were swollen and cut. Hopefully that was the worst injury he'd sustained. 

Del Rossi was already walking away, presumably to get the car. It was only a matter of time before authorities showed up, between the gunfire and the flames. Ilaria couldn't be hurried, though. Among the burning kerosene, the dismembered and roasted bodies, all Ilaria could see was her Joe. Adontoro had come through another one. 

As he forced the smoke out of his lips, and with his head in her lap, he nodded a few times. The energy was dissipating. His inner fire now a slow burn, much like that of what was flaming about them. With the snipe dangling between his lips, he raised his swelling hand to touch her face. In all his madness he'd forgotten about her safety. He'd just assumed she'd be alright, as long as he took out the threat. As long as he did his job, she'd be fine.

It had worked. But to what degree? And where was Del Rossi? Joe let out a deep sigh as his eyes closed, his focus on the touch of his fingertips on Ilaria's cheek. That feeling, it's what captured the moment for him. Being able to touch her, to be close to her was what always brought his feet back to earth and simultaneously elevated his heart into the clouds. They shared a moment as only Adontoro could, surrounded by the charred remnants of a fuck ton of Guaio. And now with Leo by their side too, things felt more complete than ever.

The low rumble of the car neared as Del Rossi pulled up in the car, leaving it idling as he got out and opened the back door. 

"We need to blow. Cops will be swarming any minute, and I don't want to give that other Ruski much more of a head start."

​​​​​​Joe lingered in her lap for a few more seconds before flicking the rest of the cigarette off into the distance. They both stood. Leo  with tail wagging happily, jumped into the car. Joe followed, then Ilaria. Before she was completely inside, she stopped and looked at Del Rossi. 

"Thank you." 

She gave him a small but sincere smile. She knew where she stood with him, and she hoped that eventually he'd warm up to her. She knew Joe might not be here without him. 

Within moments, they were heading back to the clinic.