Just about 2am. Billy looked at the clock on the wall, nodded and stood up from his chair. It gave a rickety squeal or relief as his full frame lifted off of it. He was in his absolute prime of his life at the moment and he knew it. Don of his own crew in corktown, mid twenties, everything to look forward to. So why did that note on his desk scare ten years off his life?

He glared at it a moment, the stained yellow of parchment that had been left under a coffee mug for too long. The words were clear enough.

Paulie Sanner is responsible for the Judge.

Billy never thought in a million years that he would have to tell his guys whose cars NOT to steal. He ad returned the damned thing, not exactly himself, but it got back to the guy. Still, this was one of those no nonsense, hardened Justice types of guys. He was out for blood, and now the law was clamping down on the entire operation. He managed to buy himself some time, but there were two loose ends.

One was Paulie, and with that he would make sure that everyone else in the operation's department knew not to fuck up again.

The other was a bit more difficult. The witness.

He had some information on the gal. Her name was Pam, she was a waitress. She was getting off her shift late one night and happened to see Paulie break a certain car window and take off with the thing. Wouldn't be a big deal except that she knew who Paulie worked for, and since the feds were now watching the place like hawks, it wasn't like Billy could send someone out to go pick this girl up.

He sighed heavily, and looked back at the clock again, 2 and a quarter almost. Paulie was on his way back. Billy, headed downstairs to meet him.

Billy pulled on the cold steel chains to open the big bay door. Three cars drove in and let the chain go so the door shut behind them.

As the purr of engines died and the men got out they were loud. Too loud for Billy's taste at this time of night. So he whistled. Just one high-pitched whistle.

"Evening boys."

All six of them stopped dead. Cigarettes hung from mouths and the only thing that pierced the silence was one cough about a minute in. Billy reached to his left and picked up a tire iron.

"Boys, three cars came in tonight, but we got the Feds watching us, so you know what that means?"

He paused to let them all obligingly shake their heads no. Of course they didn't.

"It means two things. First it means that three cars gotta leave here by morning so it all looks like a mechanic's shop like we all say it is. We do the work, then bring your car back without you missing a beat."

He then stepped slowly closer to the group, dragging the long iron rod behind him on the ground. He could barely hear himself over the sound of someone's doom encroaching. He wondered for a moment what was going through their heads.

"The second thing it means."

He swung. Hard. A spray of red mist filled the air in the warehouse as Billy connected with Paulie's jaw, ripping his face as a gash appeared where his cheek once was. There was a scream of pain from the man now on his knees in front of Billy. But it wasn't fear. He didn't yet realize what else was coming.

"SOMEONE FUCKED UP!"

Billy did not like raising his voice, and so he kicked Paulie in his stomach to knock the wind out of him. It did the trick. Now all that anyone heard was Billy's footsteps and the dripping sound of blood oozing out of a wound that was not going to stop until this was over.

Billy looked down at Paulie with his dark brown eyes. He burned his hatred into the older man. Paulie finally realized. Billy could see the tears welling up in his eyes as he raised his hands and slowly shook his head.

"Paulie. You took a Judge's car. You're the whole reason the feds are on us in the fucking first place. This bullshit is entirely your fault."

Billy raised the tire iron again and it sang a whistle through the air right up until it embedded itself in the concrete floor inches from Paulie's head.

"I don't fucking miss Paulie. I hit exactly where I aim. Your living or dying tonight is entirely up to me."

Billy spun around to look at the fice other guys who stood shocked. They had no doubt never seen Billy like this. He was the good guy. He would buy everyone a beer and tell a story. Or make someone else tell a joke. He was the guy that always said it was gonna be fine, and that they shouldn't worry about nothin'. Tonight six men learned why Billy was the Don and not a single one of them would ever question it again.

"Your living or dying every fucking day it up to me. Just me, nobody else. When you fuck up. I cover for you. When you get drunk. I let you stay here and I tell your wife AND your fucking girlfriend that you wasn't out with no whore that night. And this is how you fucking repay me? You steal from the ONE FUCKING GUY you should know not to steal from?"

He clenched a both of his fists and flipped back to Paulie, the stream of hot red oozing side of his face had begun to pool on the ground.

"You don't get to fuck up again. You got that Paulie?"

He watched and waited for the man to nod before he pulled the tire iron out of the cement.

"Somebody clean this fucking shit up. I got work to do."

The following morning, Billy sat alone in his apartment with one open desk drawer. He had three drawers, one of them had a bottle of whiskey and four glasses. One of them had a spare gun. One of them had a couple of papers. That was the one he went for. He rummaged around a second until he found an envelope with Rebecca's name on it.

He opened the envelope and pulled out the phone number inside and began to dial. Then he pulled open the other drawer and poured himself a glass.

"Hi, yeah, my name is Billy Mastrosimone. I got your name from an associate of mine, they say you can help in certain um, situations. You know, the kind of things where I don't have a lot of leeway to get my own guys involved in... Sure... Yeah, Mastrosimone... Corktown... Alright, I'll meet you there."

And with that Billy downed what was left of the whiskey in the glass and made his way to the diner down the street.

It was Billy's favorite place, and he had a spot picked out in the corner that was always open just for him. Well him and whatever guests he wanted.

It was well, lit. None of this dingy dark lighting in all the fancy places around town. Big bright lights in the ceiling so you could see everything. The tables always had a velvet red table cloth which matched the color of the trim on the walls.

Billy had made his way to his table and was patiently waiting. His bodyguards had taken a few spots, key spots in the restaurant. He didn't know the guy coming to meet him. All he knew was that he needed this guy today more than he did yesterday.

He had made a mistake, he had let Paulie live. Paulie, with his life spared had gone to the feds to say thank you, and turned in everything he knew. Some men had no spine. Now though? Now the feds had raided the warehouse. Billy had his entire operation in the balance and a much bigger witness problem on his hands. Both of those problems could be solved by taking one piece off the board. This guy he was meeting was supposed to be able to fix that problem, for a price. Lucky for Billy, he had luck on his side.

The front bell jingled and a stranger walked in, they took one look around and knew exactly who Billy was. It was time to get down to business and get his warehouse back.

The rooftop was cold across her belly, chest, and legs.  The dull ache in her arm had gone on almost endlessly since she took her position.  Looking down the barrel of her rifle she watched the men coming and going from the residential building in Kansas City's Rivermarket.  It wasn't too different from the building she spent the first years of her life in, back in Philadelphia.  An old factory which had been refurbished to house people of means in an affluent area of the city.  

Her sight slid over each person, searching.

Borne, her fixer had promised her a hefty sum of cash to take out Orin Mulvaney.  Mulvaney's family was a true threat to the Devoti operation that currently ran Kansas City Metro area.  Don Devoti, of course, was the source of the job.  The old man had finally caught wise to young Mulvaney's plan to seize power and wanted to hit first.  He felt if he could cut off the head of the snake while sitting at a meeting with the snake himself, it would prove impossible for Mulvaney's extensive family to turn on him.  They would think the matter handled by some rogue or outside force wanting to shut down Mulvaney's incredibly successful operation all along the US-71 corridor which ran from the northernmost reaches of Canada to the ports in New Orleans.  

In truth, it wasn't just the money that made Aurora say yes to the job.  She'd turned down other profitable hits in the past, confusing the fuck out of Borne.  He, of course, was a sleaze bag with no ethics or principles.  It didn't shock Aurora that he couldn't understand why some jobs were beneath her. 

Mulvaney was exactly the sort of monster she enjoyed hunting.  He was the sort of man who kept people like her and her father ankle deep in blood their whole lives.  Bad men, passing judgement on worse men, it was the way of life and Aurora felt a sense of fulfillment in answering the calling of judge, jury, and executioner.  The world was never short of Mulvaney's.  Men who enslaved women and children and prostituted them for cash.  It turned Aurora's stomach, the details she learned about the source of Mulvaney's ever-growing wealth.  And so, she was more than happy to pay for the bullet that would put an end to him and his slave trade.

"There you are.  Goodbye Mr. Mulvaney."  She whispered to herself, finally spotting Orin leaving the meeting.  She took a breath.  Exhaled.  Twitched her finger and watched as Orin's face blossomed in a spray of crimson colored gore.  

Rolling onto her back she lay there dismantling her rifle as quickly and efficiently as most men put on their pants each morning - ignoring the distant sound of screams.  It was time to go.

"Lionessa."  Borne waved Aurora to his table.  He was smiling, and with good reason.  No doubt Don Devoti's payment had arrived and his cut would no doubt have been taken off the top.  

Aurora slid into the seat across from the oily-haired fixer, watching him pick at the nail of his index finger which had been chewed down to the skin like all the others.  The man's suit was slightly too big for him, Aurora noted, and while it was of high quality she often wondered if he picked up his wardrobe off dead bodies in the morgue or maybe had goombas rob them from bodies in graves.  She'd heard some of the low-level guys' joke about graverobbing for cash... or, rather, she hoped they were joking.  Who would ever stoop to robbing the dead?  Aurora thought she would rather starve than do such things!

"Nice work in Kansas City."  The man pushed his plate of deep fried potatoes towards her, offering her some.  "I got plenty."

"I'm good."  She admitted cooly.  "Just ate."

"You know, if you'd just let me introduce you to some people the name Lionessa Dell'alba could be one of the most feared names in the country.  I mean, I don't mind taking a cut of all your action - it's made me very comfortable, but I can't figure you out for the life of me."  He shook his head.  "I know this guy here in New York... you'd like him, he doesn't even look like a mobster - guy's a chef.  Looks like a regular joe, just like you and me!"

Aurora shook her head.  She, of course, knew Godfather Heston.  She'd grew up in the same city where he'd come up in the mob.  If she were in a room with Heston, the false persona she'd created to move in mafia circles would be useless.  Heston would know who she was and in a matter of hours so would the whole world... her parents and Salvatore included.  

"You could write your check as an associate of any family in the damn country... come on, tell me why you won't.  Just a hint?"

Aurora smirked, "I don't like being told what to do."

Borne chuckled reaching into his well-worn briefcase and pulling out a small paper bag and handing it to her.  "Well, I suppose I can understand that.  Still, I think you're fucking crazy."

She took the bag, it felt about right for the amount she was expecting.  Aurora was getting good at eyeballing cash stacks and knowing their weight without actually counting.  Borne was used to her not double checking in front of him so he didn't bring it up when she put it into her coat pocket.

"So... I got another possible job for you."

"Already?"  She asked.

"It's potentially a very big one.  A federal witness needs handling - that shit never goes down on the cheap."

Aurora sighed.  Some poor sap had turned on their family?  It wasn't immediately an attractive target.  "I don't know..."

"It's not even that far away.  Just a quick trip over to Detroit!"  

Aurora arched an eyebrow.  "Detroit?"  She knew plenty of folks in Detroit.  They were allies of her parents.  It meant the job could ruin her ability to work under this name... and yet, what if it was Giovanni who needed her?  Or... Billy even?  Could she really sit on her hands if people she cared about were at risk?

Borne nodded.  "You'll get to attend a fancy party, enjoy some good eats, and even set the price for your work.  And if you don't like the look of the gig as it's described to you... just turn it down.  I've got three other guys who can handle it - but I'll be honest, you're my best.  If this gets messed up, I'll be swimming with the fishes.  You'd be doing me a solid by going."

"You said something about a party?"

"Political fundraiser for the Republican Candidate for Governor of Michigan.  A Monte Carlo Casino night... gambling, rubbing elbows with a who's who of anyone who is someone in the area... real fancy like."

Aurora smirked.  She hadn't been gambling in a long while and she COULD say no and pull out if it felt wrong.  "I'm gonna need a dress.  When's this party?"

"Tonight.  I'll need you on a flight soon."

Aurora narrowed her eyes.  "This must be a pretty ugly situation for such a rush."

Borne nodded.  "Way I understand it, it is."

She drew a breath.  "Tell the person negotiating for his or her Don to look for the lion tattoo."

Borne smiled brightly.  "You're doing it?"

"I need to go shopping for a dress."  She said quietly, standing up from her seat.

"You won't regret this, I swear!" Borne dug into his coat and pulled out a very heavy piece of crimson and gold card stock.  He handed it to her.  Aurora read the words printed in gold leaf on the paper.  

"I hope not."  She admitted putting the ticket into her pocket.  "Thanks, Borne."

"Good hunting, Lionessa."

Olivia Mulvaney tore at her own shirt as she collapsed down to her knees wailing for God to please avenge her only son.  Friends and family tried to console her.  From the other room, a group of men in suits looked on with grim expressions and dark thoughts moving through their minds.  

"I want this fucker..."  Brandon Mulvaney seethed softly, watching his mother-in-law grieve. 

Brandon had taken his wife's last name out of respect for the people who had brought him up from nothing.  The Mulvaney family had LITERALLY cut a bloody patch of earth out of Kansas City for themselves and now with Orin dead, no one knew if they had a future at all.  They were rudderless.  Dead in the water.  Vulnerable.  It was likely only a matter of time before that fucking wop Devoti struck them all down. 

Brandon had to do something.

"Someone saw something.  Someone knows SOMETHING!"  He continued to rage walking away from the open door which another man in the room closed to muffle the sound of the wailing mother.  "No one does this to us and gets away with it!"

"What do you want done, Boss?"

This was a Hail Mary situation.  They were either going to come out of this a real power in KC or they were going to be nothing at all.  It was not a time to hold back.  It was a time to double down.  

"Take the money from the Carlin job."

"All of it?  Boss, that's ... that's more than half our assets, we won't..."

Brandon snatched up his underling by the throat and glared into his eyes, "I SAID ALL OF IT!"  He slammed the punk into the wall so hard that a photo fell across the way, "I want such a fucking price on this bastards head that he has no place he can hide.  There won't be a hole deep enough for him to disappear into.  I want every two-bit bounty hunter and professional hitman in this god-damned country hunting this shithead, do you hear me!?!"

"Yeah..." the underling stammered.  "Yeah, I hear ya, Boss."

"Hello?" Billy was far too gruff when answering the phone just now, but he was getting anxious sitting in his apartment. For as nice as the place was, it wasn't his normal place of business.

"Mr. Mastrosimone..."

"Don." Billy cut the man off. If there was one thing he learned in the last couple days it was how important it was to throw his weight and his money around right now. And he didn't have a small weight to him.

"Yes of course Don. I have good news for you, I found someone to do your job for you, at least I think they will. All you gotta do tonight is find the Lion tattoo. That's your man for the job so to speak. You two talk price and I'll be your go to guy next time you need something like..."

The phone went dead.

Billy had slammed the receiver down. He had someone now, it was going to cost him quite the pretty penny, but it would get done one way or another. He got up and went over to his closet. He picked out a nice charcoal grey suit, gold cuff links, his dad's watch, and a red tie.

"Republican Red."

He mumbled to himself as he laid everything out for the evening. He would need to polish his shoes and then take a shower. This was gonna be a long night and Billy was not the best at negotiating, but he needed Kenzi and Integra to lay low while he got this sorted out. If there was anything that could have made this worse, it would have been one of his family getting heat for it all. not to mention how Joey would feel about the whole thing.

Took trip to Detroit.  Looked up Don Mastersimone.  Dinner date.  Were dismissed to the car for three minutes in total before she and he came out of the restaurant.  Kiddo was on cloud nine.  It seems likely she will see him again.

Borne sent Lionessa on another job.  The Mulvaney thing up in KC.  Damnedest thing you ever saw.  You'd be proud.  Quick.  Clean.  They got nothing.  Devoti sent a bonus to the Lioness in addition to agreed price. 

She got two As and a B on her midterms. 

Found the person spreading the rumors about her sleeping around.  It's a girl from a local sorority.  Some broad Aurora put in place first week on campus.  You want us to have a talk with the kid or let it go?  

-Tim

The letter wasn't the only one in front of Salvatore that morning...

You got some boys looking for work?  Thought you might like to know that there is now 100 Million reasons to find the fucker who wasted Kid Mulvaney up in KC.  There's a lot of competition, but if you got a competant boots on the ground sort of guy - you might help your coffers.  Doubt it'll change the Devoti v. Mulvaney situation in KC ... the Mulvaney family is fucked no matter what way you cut it now.  Still, no reason not to make a buck, right?

-Ace

It had finally happened.  Years of this moonlighting bullshit and Aurora had shot someone who had the motivation and cash to get to her.  Oh sure, he could have shut this shit down before... but if raising Bella in the mob had taught the old man anything, he knew better than to try to save her from her own mistakes. 

Bella was bullheaded and he knew Aurora was worse.  He would have spelled it out for her and the girl would have rejected his fears out of hand.  At least now, he could show her the error of her ways.  But first, he needed her to come to him... or her mother... immediately.  For her protection.  She was a marked woman and it wasn't a matter of 'if' they found her.  With that kind of cash on her head, it was a matter of when.

Salvatore picked up his phone.  He dialed the number for Aurora's apartment.  The phone rang.  It rang again.  And again.  His daughter didn't have classes right now and he knew damn well she had no social life in New York to speak of ... so where was she?  

Sal hung up and dialed again.  "Fuel up the plane.  We're going to New York."  He hung up without waiting for a reply and picked up his shoulder holster.  Silently he began putting it on while his men readied themselves to move.  His little girl needed him.

The sent of blood and piss was an aroma that Salvatore was as intimate with as the smell of his favorite whiskey and most days it was a real toss-up which brought him more joy.  Under the circumstances, with the stakes so high, Salvatore had to opt for whiskey today.

It was six-twenty in the evening and he still had no idea where Aurora was.  He had to give it to the weaselly little fucker, he was tougher than he looked.  Still, Borne had proper motivation to keep his mouth shut.  He had to know the moment Sal knew where his kid was, he was going to kill him.  A man fighting to stay alive was always harder to crack, but in his experience (which was considerable) all men had a point at which the pain simply became too much to bear.  The real trick was not letting them pass out from the pain or die before you got what you needed and in time-sensitive matters like this one - it was even harder.  One slip of his hand in anger and it wasn't just this low-life fixer who would go to hell... it might be his youngest daughter too.

The remnants of the man's fingernails were on the floor and four of his molars.  Sal watched as his guys brought in the sack and the vermin that it had taken them the better part of twenty minutes to find in a nearby alleyway.  Bella thought he never read books.  This was ridiculous, of course, he just barely had time for it.  He'd read about this particular trick in a book once, a long while ago, but he'd never used it.  After all, in the original version, it involved a cage and who kept a cage around?  But he supposed that a sack could work in a pinch... today was the day to find out.

The men put the rat into the sack and Sal watched as Borne began to piece together what was about to happen.  Tied to the chair the man thrashed helplessly as his guys put the sack over his head and tied it tight so that his face and the rat were trapped together inside. He could see the rat thrashing and Borne's screams were reaching a pitch that Sal knew it wouldn't take much longer.

"Where is my daughter you, cazzo stupido!" 

Borne began screaming, "DETROIT, SHE'S IN DETROIT!  I SENT HER TO DO A JOB FOR MASTROSIMONE!!!"

Sal cut the bag free from the man's head, the rat hit the floor.  Sal stomped on it.  "Where?"

Borne panted, "Republican fundraiser... in Warren, for the Governor's election."

"The name of the hitman you sold her out to?"  He snarled.

Borne hesitated and Sal began to choke him, unable to stand it a moment longer, he wanted to feel this bastard dying in his bare hands.

Borne coughed and sputtered out not one name... but three.  One of which was no joke.  Salvatore knew Ben Walker by his reputation, he was a true professional.  An Englishman who fought in the Great War.  Fucker was deadly, worst of all he was unsuspecting in the extreme.  The man could walk right into that building and glad hand with the best of them and not be spotted by a novice like Aurora.  She'd never make him for a killer.  He was a polite brit... the sort girls flirted with, not feared. 

Sal's hands tightened and he watched the light fade from the fixer's eyes.  He panted, trying to catch his breath, and then he kicked the body still tied to the chair so hard that it tumbled over onto its side.  The corpse lay in a puddle that had formed around his feet, appropriately staring at the dead rat crushed under the former Godfather's boot.

"Detroit."  He snapped at his men, snatch his coat off a nearby table. 

Leaving one of his associates to clean up the mess.  They were once again racing against the clock and headed for the airport.  

Nodding to the doorman outside the building, Kenzi waltzed past him humming something cheerful. By now, the staff knew who she was, and so her visits to the boss were expected; and generally came with a nice tip. Shedding her coat on the way up the elevator, Kenzi gripped the handle of her purse. Since finally getting rid of her old cloth bag, Kenzi had developed something of an affinity for purses, and her collection was admirable. For today, she'd chosen a simple black satchel style with a short handle; less chance of it being grabbed by some thug trying to make a buck. Not that a kid like that would make it past her body man, Weston.

The elevator came to a slightly bouncy halt, and Weston stepped out, followed by Kenzi. Down the hall, a large man in a suit was posted outside Billy's apartment door. Kenzi looked curiously as she approached- it was unlike Billy to have security right outside the door. She gave the guard a nod.

"Is he in?"

The guard nodded and reached back, opening the door for Kenzi. Weston waited in the hall. 

The shower was just shutting off as Kenzi passed through the foyer and into the well-appointed living room. Clearly the house keeper had been there recently. Chuckling, she went to the kitchen and got a coffee cup and called loudly with her unmistakable higher-pitched voice.

"Don't come out here naked, I'm here!"

Billy had just turned the handle on the door to his bathroom. Lucky for him, Kenzi was in the kitchen so that gave him time to put some clothes on in the privacy of his own bedroom before walking out to see her. His hair was still wet and sitting in all angles on his head, and he only had on his slacks and his undershirt, but then again it was only Kenzi, so it was fine.

He stepped into the hallway and there was Weston. He gave the guy a single head nod toward the living room and Weston moved quietly in that direction. Billy met Kenzi in the kitchen.

"Hey kid, you've got some timing. We gotta have a nice chat."

He stopped mid stride and looked her up and down. She was bouncing. She did that, but given the situation at the warehouse it was odd.

"You're in a good mood. Why are you in a good mood? You know what kind of shit we're in right now. What gives?"

"I know, and the situation is crappy, but Joey just booked our reservations for our honeymoon trip. I'm a little excited."

She took a drink of the coffee she'd helped herself to. It was only her fourth...maybe fifth...cup of the day. Everyone had been in such a somber mood since the big fuck up, so a little good news had been just what Kenzi needed to pull out of a rut. Still, she knew the gravity of the situation, and sat down at the table with her coffee and her purse.

"Oh, and the payment for the junk cars came in. Just under 3 million- I went ahead and put it in the safe."

One more sip of coffee and Kenzi gave a sigh and looked him.

"Alright, I'm calm. What's going on?"

She really hated seeing Billy so frustrated. His job was a big, tangled ball of stress and responsibility, and some days it just seemed to wear on him.

Integra wasnt really easy to piss off, all you had to do was your job and things would be fine. Fuck up on your job though and cause problems... well problems would come to you.  This week was going good at the beginning.. and it seemd with each day it was going downhill... and she sure as fuck wasnt happy. Hell she was ready to bust someone's skullcap in, as well as their kneecaps if given the chance. 

So she went to the only place she could think of to go... Billy's. Albeit it took her some time to figure out where it was, and then getting to his actually apartment just left her time to get annoyed the more she thought on the situation. 

Once she reached the proper floor she started heading towards the door with her guy Aaron behind her. Now Integra wasnt short by standards of women... but Aaron towered over her and had scars from some rough patches and looked like quite the mean bastard. 

When she got stopped by the men at the door, who she knew were just doing their jobs she tried to take a breathe. Tried. In this whirlwind force of agitation though she wasnt in the mood to be stopped... especially since she knew she was around Billg and Kenzi enough to be recognized. 

"If you dont get the fuck out of my way. I am not responsible for the injury you will receive... so please won't you just Fucking. MOVE.!"

She went to shove past the guy to burst into the room, leaving Aaron to basically apologize to the other guards as he joined them. Integra herself looked quite pissed as she just went to find the kitchen, looking for a glass an whiskey. "Billy! Where the hell are ya... and where is the fucking idiot who fucked up..." her voice dropped as she started muttering to herself about how she was going to fucking bust some skulls and kneecaps on whoever got the warehouse raided. Oh boy did she hate fuck ups... and even more so did she hate spineless idiots... she had dealt with enough of them in England, she didnt leave that country full of them to come here and deal with them again.

Billy opened his mouth to speak, and then the apartment was full of anger and a very loud woman's voice.

"Hey Integra, you can have anything you want in that cabinet if you stop shouting."

Billy gestured to a cabinet just above the sink which he kept quite well stocked.

"Well, since you're both here I'm guessing we should talk about Paulie."

He held up a hand to stop Integra from shouting the guys name and beginning a tirade. It did not help. After a few choice words Billy wasn't sure he had heard strung together in quite that fashion before Integra finally sat down.

"Yeah, that Paulie. Anyway, I roughed him up after he took the Judge's car, but uh, he seems to have taken offense to that and gone to the feds. So we lost the warehouse for a little bit. Don't worry that's what I'm taking care of tonight. I'm going to a party, I'm gonna rub some elbows with the right people and get this smoothed over. I'm also gonna have to spend some money cause I'm hiring a guy to take out Paulie so it's not connected to us."

He slid an empty glass over to Integra since she had taken the bottle down, she might as well start pouring.

"So, as much as this is gonna piss you off even more. Right now Integra, I need you to lay low. Kenzi just looks innocent, she always is. You have a history, you need to stay out of sight for a while. Get yourself an alibi, a rock solid one, and then, keep an ear to the ground for emergencies."

Billy turned to Kenzi then.

"So where are you going on this honeymoon? Somewhere you need to scope out first? Maybe get out of Detriot for a few days?"

He sipped his whiskey and checked the clock. He still had hours to go.

As she always did, Kenzi listened to the explanation and plan - at least as much as Billy was giving up. It seemed solid enough, but one particular part had Kenzi uncomfortable. When Billy asked about the honeymoon spot, she immediately saw what he was hinting at. She replied with a touch less amusement than before.

"We're spending a week in New Orleans, and no, I'm not leaving town and leaving you alone to clean this up by yourself. That's not what family does."

Her insistence was certainly heartfelt, but clearly non-negotiable.

"I'll lay low, but I'm not going to be far."

Integra shot a glar at Billy when he mentioned the little fuckers name that got their warehouse raided. She did listen to when Billy pointed out the whiskey and grabbed a mostly full bottle before pouring everyone drinks. 

She about slammed down the bottle when she heard Billy tell her she had to Lay low and get a solid Alibi. Instead she just downed the glass swiftly and poured herself another one. "Fucking Great..."

She grumbled a bit more, quietly before pointing at Kenzi. "I actually agree with her on this one... Someone needs to be around to keep an eye on you... and you said it yourself, she's always innocent so why not take her with you to the party?"

Billy didn't have a real answer. He hadn't given it any thought.

"Cause we have the entire FBN watching our ass all the time right now. If they think we are plotting, like the probably do right now, they are gonna listen real hard and find something. If two of us are in the same place at the same time when they finally come down with a warrant, I don't want to make it easy for them to get us all."

It was as good a reason as any he could think of.

"As much as Kenzi would stand out at the party. I also gotta meet with a guy and discuss things. Kenzi is gonna turn every head in the room with how cute and girly she is, I can't watch her back, and my back, and meet with this guy all at once. Big Billy is gonna be enough of a headache as it is."

He took a sip of whiskey from the glass and looked to Kenzi. He didn't mean to hurt her feelings, but he knew he had.

"It's not that I don't think you can't handle yourself, but I know politicians, and they really don't care. You know what makes a politician dangerous? They think they have power, so they don't think anyone can touch them. It's why mobsters are the safer bet. We know we have power, but at least we know people want to take it from us."

He drank again and then pulled a set of cigars out of the drawer behind him.

"So, let's hear your alibi's for tonight. If you're not at the party, and you're not leaving town, where are you gonna be?"

He lit a cigar for Integra as he stood up and opened the kitchen window to let the smoke out.

Integra had to admit that Billy had a really good point, one that she couldnt even argue against. She downed her third glass of whiskey as she sighed heavily before thinking on what the hell she would do for the night. 

She gratefully accepted the cigar from Billy and sat so the smoke wouldnt bother Kenzi as she took a long drag before exhaling slowly. "Nothing except sit my happy ass in a corner of a bar and fucking Drink... thats what i got... nothing else for me to do and at least ill be fine. Theres a bar in the Hotel, ill just stay there."

She wasnt happy with how things were turning out, but she understood completely. Which if he wanted them all separated then she couldnt sit and drink wine with Kenzi... not that she even liked wine.

Integra seemed already well into her plan for the evening, but Kenzi had a different plan. She took a drink of her coffee and thought for a few moments before answering.

"Joey is dealing with some of his own family business tonight, so I was just going to stay home and sketch. But, if I need an alibi, I'll have supper delivered from a restaurant so someone else can confirm that I was home. Simple enough."

It was simple, and that's exactly what she was going to do...first.

Billy let out a relieved sigh.

"Good, then it's settled, you two will be safe, keep your guys around you like I said the other day, you know, just in case. It's no secret that we got raided, everyone is going to think we are weak right now, you never know whose willing to make a move."

He got up and went to the icebox and pulled out a bunch sandwiches, some cheese and a bottle of wine.

"Hungry gals? This is all I've got for now, but it will hold you over."

He put the food on the table and poured a few glasses of water for them. Billy knew that they both deserved way better than this. That if he could, he would have taken them to a fancy dinner spot and gotten all dressed up for them. Billy also thought this was the finest thing he could have asked for. Whatever they were eating, just the three of them together was what he wanted.

"Hey Weston, get Charlie and bring him inside and have something ta eat!"

He shouted down the hall and then handed the two men some sandwiches and a glass of water each as the five of them sat in the kitchen.