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'The Shark' - Lorenzo Abate Started by: Tyki_Mikk on Oct 01, '23 16:18

Amira listened as if the two were having a casual conversation, not a lesson in tradecraft. She smiled and looked into his eyes, nodding occasionally, or giving a little giggle. If her job tonight was to play the room tonight, she didn't want it to look as if she was already "connected" with one man in the room. 

At Corrado's suggestion that she get the bartender's attention, Amira nodded and looked down the bar toward where the man was serving other guests. She had already decided she would stick with white wine for the evening, and she'd had a hearty meal before leaving for the club to keep from getting unmanageably tipsy. She cracked a little grin, remembering the evening at the Blade and Bullet where she and Corrado had spent a few bottles learning exactly where her lines were. He really was an excellent trainer, and Amira was convinced that she wouldn't have ventured so bravely into this life had he not found his way into hers first. Briefly, she glanced back down toward him at the bar. To her perception, Corrado seemed to be easily the most interesting person in the whole bar, and she could listen to his stories all night. But- that wasn't the mission tonight. She gave him a wink before breaking her gaze again and looking back for the bartender, who was starting to head back in her direction. She kept her eyes on his, and the second he looked at her, Amira turned on an alluring smile. (One she had spent a considerable amount of time practicing in her powder room mirror, despite how silly it made her feel.) 

The bartender, who did something of a doubletake, reached up and straightened the collar of his shirt, and walked over. 

"Hello there, Miss. What can I get you?"

Amira pretended to scan the bottles behind him for a moment, one slender finger tapping her bright red lips in thought. 

"Hmm, I really can't decided, you know. I think I feel like a nice white wine this evening. I bet you know all these better than anyone. Can you recommend one for me?"

His ego appreciatively stroked, the bartender nodded and went off to get the drink. In the meantime, Amira turned slightly from the bar and began scanning the room for her mark. The last time she'd done this, she'd gone for a man who was a bit down in the dumps that particular day. It had been rather easy to get him talking. Tonight, she would challenge herself. Looking over the crowd, she considered several until her eyes fell on one man that seemed somewhat familiar. He was a younger-middle-aged man with expertly coiffed black hair, and wearing a suit that easily cost more than the house Amira had grown up in. But where did she know him from? She thought back, and then it occurred to her. His name was Allan Morgan- one of two brothers that had come to Las Vegas to establish some kind of financial venture- hedge funds or something. There had been an article in the papers about he and his brother. Tonight, it looked like he was on his own- well, not with his brother. There were several women hanging around- almost shamelessly throwing themselves at him. He appeared to be smiling, but his eyes were constantly roaming. That was her mark.

The bartender returned with the glass of wine, and Amira took a folded $10 from somewhere in the bustline of her dress, putting it directly in his hand with a grin. With that, she began moving across the floor very casually- stopping to listen to the band or watch some of the dancers. A few other men tried to engage her with various comments or catcalls, but she managed to brush them off gently with her eyes on a goal. Finally, she was within sight of Mr. Morgan, and taking Corrado's advice, she chose a place not too far from him, but far enough that it didn't appear she was trying to get his attention. She took her place and started listening to the band, sipping her wine and tapping her toe with the beat. A minute or two later, someone nearby dropped a glass and it made quite a shattering sound. Amira turned as if trying to see where the sound came from. Morgan had looked up, as well, and just as Amira intended, their eyes crossed paths. Amira gave him an easy, friendly smile. Morgan's eyes squinted a bit, looking her over, and then he rose from his seat. Leaving the other women all chittering to each other and barely noticing he was gone, Allan Morgan approached Amira and introduced himself, offering a hand to her and gesturing to the dance floor.


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The Evening of The Job

The Flamingo Hotel & Casino was hosting a typical crowd for a Friday night. The early-birds who had cut out of work to hit the casinos were already settled into their various vices. Couples were starting to drift in for weekend getaways, and the bars and kitchen were hurriedly&nbsp;slinging drinks and food orders to try and stay ahead of the rush. It was exactly how it needed to be. Busy, but not overcrowded- just typical.

Amira Dayan had posted herself at a roulette table and was already a few rounds in and about $500 down; but that didn't matter. The table was in the perfect place for her to see the three entrances to the gaming floor- so she would know when Abate came in. The men at the table were markedly distracted by the only woman at the table, and Amira was working her looks well to her advantage. The dress was a deep purple satin that had just a hint of a sheen to it. Fitted at the bust, waist, and hips, the dress had a very high halter, which fastened around her neck like a purple satin choker. In the back- well, there was almost no back at all; only the fabric at the hips of the dress meeting at the small of her back in a "v" shape before hugging every curve and coming to a stop just below her knee. Around her neck, laying perfectly over the neckline, was a diamond necklace that looked like it might have been stolen from the Tower of London. Matching earrings adorned her ears, and could be seeing peeking out from under the perfectly placed curls in her dark hair. She'd hired someone to do her makeup, and the result was a dramatic eyeliner and smokey grays and purples to match her dress. Even her eyelashes had been curled, much to her amusement. Completing the look were black satin gloves that went all the way to her upper arm. The gloves had been a last-minute addition, thinking it best to have some way to cover her fingerprints if things went sideways.

She didn't think they would, though. Amira and Corrado had gone over the plan a hundred times, and she knew her part perfectly. Now, all she had to do was wait and look pretty for a while. As the table host dropped the ball again, she watched intently while wondering how Corrado's end was coming together.

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Corrado had shaved- and the years had fled his face as well. He looked younger than anyone in this country had ever seen him, which helped when he got himself hired as a waiter for the gambling room floor. His shift had ended, but he stuck around to help run drinks out and around to the various gamblers. He didn't mind donating some free labor, especially since it allowed him to move around the room without attracting too much attention.

If he hadn't had decades of experience, it would have been hard to keep his eyes off Amira. Instead, he forced his eyes to roam around the crowd, keep an eye out for Abate.

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It was just after seven when Lorenzo Abate- The Shark- made his entrance to the gaming floor. He had only three men in his immediate vicinity, but there were almost certainly at least a dozen more taking station in various places. Fortuitously, Amira had just managed to win her latest spin, and was now up at the table. She clapped a little and gave a lilting little cheer, laughing and taking a drink from her glass of champagne. The momentary break of clapping from others at the table caused a few heads to turn, including Abate's- which Amira noted, but didn't look back at him. She just needed him to notice her first. 

It had the desired effect. The Shark looked over the crowd at the roulette table, easily noticing the woman in the dramatic purple dress over the rest of the players. He squinted a bit, the bare hint of a smile curving one corner of his mouth, then continued his trek to the bar.

During the next spin, Amira turned her covert attention to those milling around the floor. It took a few moments, but she spotted Corrado. It was hard for her not to smile, seeing him looking so much younger than she was used to- but she marshalled her expression and quickly drained the last of that glass of champagne. When Corrado came by the table, she lifted the glass a bit toward him, a generally understood signal that she would like another. As rehearsed, he approached and asked her if she'd like another glass- which meant, "do you have an update?"

"Yes, I think one more won't hurt anything. Can you recommend something from the bar?" Which really meant, "he's arrived, heading for the bar."

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Corrado didn't blink when Lorenzo Abate walked past him; he'd already picked out a few of the bodyguards moving onto the gaming floor. As he glanced over at Amira, Corrado was pleased to see that she was doing same.

The girl- no, the woman- is a natural. Just like her mother.

Corrado had managed to slide over to Amira's general direction when she raised her glass. He accepted the glass with only the briefest eye contact, playing the role of the subservient waiter that he'd learned so well overseas.

Returning to the bar, Corrado managed to slip past the other bartender and put himself close to Abate. When the man ordered his drink, Corrado made sure to make it strong, trying to mask the taste of alcohol with some of the other ingredients. It'd be nice if Abate felt a little reckless- but they didn't want him drunk enough to start throwing punches.

Corrado discreetly filled a glass with sparkling cider that looked identical to the champagne she'd been sipping. Abate seemed to be scanning the crowd, looking where he wanted to gamble for the night- no doubt willing to burn some of the money he'd skimmed from the Godfather. As Abate moved toward Amira, drawn to her like a moth to a flame, Corrado allowed himself a secret smile. He'd keep watch- and if Amira got him upstairs, Corrado would be ready to walk in.

Go get him, kid.

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To her surprise, The Shark made his way over to her roulette table and took an open place beside her. He was wearing an amount of cologne that Amira considered excessive, but that didn't surprise her. It was probably expensive, and he'd likely applied it liberally as if the smell let people know he was rich. Inwardly, she rolled her eyes, but outwardly she glanced up and gave the man an alluring smile.

"You chose a good place- the table is hot."

The table attendant dropped the ball again, and the tiny, rapid tapping of it keyed up everyone's excitement. 

"Red 32. Ten grand to the lady."

More cheers, and the attendant pushed a stack of chips to Amira. Abate raised an eyebrow and gave Amira a long, leisurely looking-over.

"Looks like you're pretty hot yourself, sweetheart. What's your name?"

A different waiter arrived with both of their drinks, and Amira took hers, giving Abate a flirty look before the attendant began setting up the next round.


Amira reaches over and lets her fingers touch the lapel of his suit.

"That's real silk, isn't it?"

The attendant called for the next spin. Abate put down a stack of chips and slipped an arm around Amira's waist."

"You call it for me, baby."


She didn't rush. They played a few more rounds of roulette, and then Amira...Rachel and The Shark moved on to the dance floor. The man talked about himself incessantly, but Amira listened with all intent, smiling and keeping up with his step. Occasionally, she spotted Corrado near. That made her feel more confident that things were going to go fine. Amira worked the flirting just like she'd picked up from Corrado, and even from Mrs. Carstairs bits of wisdom. Abate was lapping it up like a dog, even more so because nearly every man that danced by them gave Amira a second or third look. 

At the end of a particularly upbeat song, Abate leaned over and whispered into Amira's ear, suggesting that they go have another drink in his suite. Amira's eyes sparkled with a masterfully feigned excitement, and she nodded, biting her lower lip just slightly as she gave his tie a playful tug. A few moments later, her arm was in his and they were moving for the elevator.

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That same evening

-'The Firm' HQ-

As he continued his work, a sudden knock came to his door.

"Sir Mikk, its Franco, may I enter?" he asked respectfully.

"The door is unlocked, proceed." Tyki's response was swift and direct.

A few seconds later, Franco opened the door and made his way into the office of Tyki Mikk. The HQ was silent tonight, although it was generally quiet around this time of the evening. The HQ had been fairly busy recently though. After recent events shocked the mafia families across America, a few new recruits had found their way to these shores, keen for opportunities at this life and a chance to impress.

"Franco, what news do you have for me?"

Tyki had been following the progress of the operation, albeit from a move secretive position, outside of their knowledge. After all, he wasn't one to send two of his best on a dangerous mission without 'some' kind of insurance.   

"Both of them have arrived at The Flamingo Sir. My men within the vicinity confirmed it." 

"And? Give me more details Franco. You know what I am asking." 

His words were direct but laced with a small layer of concern, something he often tried to hide as that sort of 'softness' didn't belong in this business.

"Abate has a few men with him on protection duty. A dozen more were spotted around the Casino floor but they are relatively more concerned with eyes being on the entire Casino floor itself, rather that direct protection. However, as a slight extra concern, we did notice a vehicle pull up outside which seemed to contain another four of Abates guys. They appeared to be carrying heat but it's unknown as to their current objective. They appear to be hired muscle, so he may have some business of his own being conducted tonight. If you wish, we could have our men on site act as some form of a distraction? Obviously it would be elegant enough to not arouse suspicion."

Looking over his desk, he then smiled, collecting a classic coin that was handed down to him by his father. A timeless piece which he always kept safe.

"We shall let fate decide this one, Franco."

With a small flick of his thumb, the coin flew upwards into the air, slowly spinning in rotation, almost like it cared not about the limitations of time or space, effortlessly gliding in its motions. After a few seconds later, the coin landed on the desk and he smiled.

"Lady Luck, has made her decision.."

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It was always harder watching someone else working a job. The Shark couldn't do much to Corrado, but the Italian-American man found himself worrying about Amira.

It's like Louvier all over again.

He shook his head to clear himself of the memory. This time would be different. Abate wasn't much of a threat. In fact, there was a decent chance that Amira could have pulled this job off on her own, though he'd undoubtedly come in handy during the intimidation. She had Abate eating out of her hand within a few minutes. 

Corrado melted into the crowd as Abate pulled Amira off the gambling floor. His eyes narrowed slightly as The Shark's hands rested on her. 

Delivering the last of his drinks, Corrado made sure no one else would be looking for him. He grabbed a bottle of champagne and an ice bucket, then trailed Abate and Amira at a distance, ducking into a stairwell as they made their way to the elevator. It seemed like a lot of Abate's security hung around in the gambling hall, content to be there if needed. But a couple guys followed Abate. 

After a short elevator ride, Abate and Amira had entered the hotel suite and the two guards were standing outside. Corrado felt confident about getting past them with the champagne- he just needed to wait long enough where Abate and Amira would order room service. 

Just a couple minutes, Amira. 

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Inside the suite, Amira looked around at the setup, grinning as if charmed by it, but making a map of things in her mind. As The Shark slid off his jacket, Amira walked to the wet bar. She kept her eyes on him, trying to give him the impression that she was enamored of his looks or something. 

"You must be a big player to get a room such as this. I have to say, I've never been with a man with your kind of pull."

She looked over the bottles and lifted an expensive brandy. 

"Why don't I pour us a drink and we can--" 

Abate had already gotten his tie off and had unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt as he crossed the room to Amira; a carnal look in his eyes. 

"How about we forget the drink and get to know each other better?" 

He was clearly used to having looser women who got down to business more quickly. His hands went around Amira's waist, then snaked down to her hips as he bent his head towards her neck. 

Amira didn't freeze, but she hadn't been prepared for him to be this forward. The smell of his cologne was honestly revolting, especially at this intimate proximity. She closed her eyes for a moment, still smiling but trying to think quickly how to get him off her. She turned in his arms and put her hands on his chest. 

"Why the rush, handsome? I'm not going anywhere."

​​​​​The Shark looked ready to feed, and he reached down to take a handful of Amira's ass. 

That's when the door burst open with an almost ear-splitting sound. Using the moment that caught the Shark off guard, Amira shoved Abate back hard against the wall, essentially pinning him there for Corrado to get to more easily. 

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Corrado assumed his most subservient expression and pose, bowing forward toward the two men standing guard outside Abate's door. They stepped forward, standing shoulder to shoulder to block his way.

"Good evening, gentlemen. A man called from this room to order champagne. A celebration is in order, yes?"

He grinned, but his smile faded from his face as he heard a familiar loud thump from inside the room.

That sounded like a body hitting the floor.

A hand gripped his heart, and Corrado panicked for the first time since he'd walked out of the prison in Florence. His knife slid down into his hand, and a single stroke sliced open the throats of both guards. Darting between them and dropping the champagne, Corrado stepped forward and aimed a practiced kick right near the doorknob, where it would be easiest to break through the lock.

His gun was in his hand as he stepped inside, but his roving eyes- instead of seeing the nightmare of Amira's body on the floor- darted immediately to where Amira and Abate were standing against the wall.

The Shark wasn't a weak man; he reached out and grabbed Amira, slipping an arm around her neck.

"Come any closer and I crush her windpipe!"

Corrado's poker face never blinked; his voice could have frozen the champagne he'd dropped in the hallway.

"Why would I care what you do with your women, Abate? I'm here for you."

Abate froze, and the eyes of Amira and Corrado met each other for an instant that spoke volumes. Amira kicked up and back, ripping her dress but landing a solid kick to the man's groin. Roaring in pain, Abate threw Amira forward toward Corrado.

If Corrado stopped to catch her, The Shark might have enough time to go for a weapon. Instead, Corrado used his shoulder to step forward and charge Abate, redirecting Amira as gently as he could to land on the bed.


Corrado's knife was at Abate's throat before The Shark could get his gun out of his pocket. Snarling, Corrado checked Abate for weapons. Once he was confident that there wouldn't be any surprises, he shook his head.

I thought I'd come here to deliver champagne and talk to Abate- not leave bodies behind.

He stood quickly, forcing Abate to sit on the bed, then handed his gun to Amira.

"Shoot him somewhere painful if he moves. I need to get the bodies out of the hallway."

Corrado looked at Abate with disgust.

"If you're smart, you'll give her whatever she wants before I get back. Otherwise, I'll dangle you off that balcony. And my grip isn't feeling too strong tonight."

Then he darted toward the hall, grabbing towels to cover the bloodstains and hoping to pull the bodies inside before anyone noticed. Fortunately, Abate had been given one of the more private suites, so there was a chance that he'd cover their tracks enough to get through their chat with Abate without having to barricade themselves in.

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Having just barely missed going face-first into the floor, Amira thought quickly and kicked off her heels as she got to her feet again. Assessing the situation again, she realized immediately that something had not gone to plan outside, which meant time was now ticking faster and more urgently. 

She took the gun from Corrado and nodded at his instructions, keeping a steady gaze on the man and slowly moving the barrel to aim on the point where the man did his thinking from. Abate looked down where the gun was aimed and swallowed hard. His voice was a little higher-pitched than it had been just moments before. 

"Hey, what the fuck is this? Who the fuck are you?" 

With the expected questions out of the way, Amira replied with an even, matter-of-fact tone. 

"We are the collection agency, Lorenzo, and you are... delinquent."

She saw his mind working, as if working to remember something, then his eyes widened. Could this guy be in that kind of debt to more than one person? Was he that big a fool? 

"Y-you're with Mikk, aren't you? Hey, look, I told him that I -" 

"Shut up, Lorenzo," Amira interrupted, loudly. "You have run out of chances to mouth your way out of this. This is now a 'money talks' situation. You see; my partner over there, the one dragging your guards' corpses inside, is particularly good at getting what he wants out of people. So, if I were you, I would quickly cough up the thirty grand you owe to avoid anything more unpleasant than a kick in the balls."

The man's expression darkened. The Shark thought himself a predator, and now found himself cornered. Worse, he was being threatened by a broad. 

​​​​​​"Hey, sugar tits, I don't know where you got that mouth, but you're gonna get a big surprise when the rest of my boys get up here and-" 

Amira took a lightning-quick step forward and connected the butt of Corrado's gun with Abate's face. His nose began to flow with blood, and Amira took her aim again, her voice much colder than before. 

​​​​​​"Didn't I tell you that your mouth would get you in trouble?" 

Glancing up briefly, she saw Corrado shut and lock the door to the room by the chain- the doorknob was too warped to work. 

"This man does not have very good manners." she said as Corrado approached. 

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Corrado dragged the bodies of Abate's guards into the room. He didn't see anyone- which hopefully meant no one had seen anything. He threw two of the bath towels down to cover the bloodstains. If anyone saw them, they'd probably think they were left for the morning housekeepers. Hopefully.

He walked into the bathroom, studying his face in the mirror as he washed some of the blood off his hands.

Three years since you had to kill someone, and you did it on instinct. And your instincts were wrong- Amira was fine.

Corrado had killed many men. Even a few women, though he found it far more distasteful. But all the bodies from his past had a purpose- or at least his work for the government had absolved him at least somewhat from personal responsibility.

But these men? All due to him. It made him angry.

He shook his head and exited the bathroom, carrying one of the wash cloths with him.

Amira had the gun pointed at Abate, and Corrado locked the hotel door before moving to check the balcony. No one within view. Good.

He returned to Abate and flicked his knife open.

"You can threaten me with that all you want. I'm not going to-"

Corrado interrupted him by stabbing the knife into his calf. When Abate opened his mouth to scream, Corrado deftly plugged the noise with the washcloth. He grabbed Abate by the neck forcing the larger man to his feet and ignoring the protest coming from his lower back. He half pushed, half dragged The Shark to the balcony.

Corrado had a second knife in his hand by the time they got outside, and he held it up near Abate's eyes as he spoke. His voice was firm, but calm as a man ordering his morning coffee.

"Listen to me well, Abate, because if I need to repeat any of this then you're proving yourself too stupid to be a good investment. Three days ago, some old friends of mine were able to provide me with the documentation to impersonate a fictional brother of yours, which I used to take out out a rather generous life insurance policy in your name."

The knife move a little closer to Abate's face.

"You owe Tyki Mikk 30k. I expect you to pay him 40k. And while I suspect Don Mikk will probably give you another chance, the life insurance policy pays out 40k as well."

Corrado tilted his head.

"Now how would you like to pay, Lorenzo? By coming in, apologizing to my friend for your rudeness, and talking to us about how much and how quickly you intend to pay Don Mikk? Or do you want to pretend that any of your 'boys' will be quick enough to save you from us? In that case, we could also send you down the most direct route."

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-The Firm HQ-

Whilst he continued with his work, he was swiftly interrupted once again. KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK, furious bangs this time, almost worrisome in their aggression towards the wood between both parties.

"For you to be knocking this loud on my door, I hope for your sake that this is important. Enter."

As the door opened, an out of breath younger man entered Tyki's office. This youth was not unknown however, or he would have never been able to even get onto the grounds of their well protected building. Tyki knew him, Reggie, one of Franco's younger associates who would do small time jobs for him.

"Reggie, to what do I owe the pleasure for your visit and where is Franco?"

"He's back at The Flamingo Sir. He sent me over here and told me to get here on the double, so I sprinted as quick as I could for two blocks."

Tyki continued to flick through the notes on his desk, finishing up the final parts as he listened.


"He said to inform you that two Sedans pulled up with some men who looked like serious bad news. One in particular stood out though, suited, leader type swag to him. Oh and Franco said to tell you that he had a bird or something, tattooed across the back on his neck? Said you might know who it was from that?"

Tyki slammed one of the books shut, his attention now completely focused on Reggie.

"Fuck! No way is he there today. Cortez was supposed to be in Mexico right now, not due back for another week or so. He has to be there for business with Abate."

This is trouble. He's bad news, military background and way too much for Amira and Corrado to deal with right now, especially if he has his usual mercs with him. Grabbing a pen from his drawer, he began to jot down a note quickly.


Amira and Corrado are inside still. Amira will recognise you. Find a way to make contact without it being obvious and tell them to get their asses out of their pronto. Things will become very messy if that man catches them.

"Reggie, listen and listen very closely. Head back to Franco right now and once you get there, tell him I said "The Eagle has landed", then hand him this note. Now go, fast."

As Reggie made a hasty exit, Tyki poured himself a whiskey and took a few steps towards the window, peering out towards the darkened night sky, one arm folded elegantly behind his back.

"May the Gods favor you tonight, my dear Associates. Hurry back to me."

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As Corrado was going about the intimidation, Amira stood on the balcony as well- though not facing the business. She had decided it best to keep an eye on the disabled door in case anyone tried to get nosey. Her eyes moved from the inside of the room to the street below occasionally, looking for anything that might cause alarm.  She saw two dark cars pull up to the casino. Keeping her eyes there, Amira saw a group of markedly big men get out of each- one with tattoos showing from beneath the suit that Amira could see even from above. It wasn't unusual for mob types or otherwise unsavory sorts to frequent casinos around here, so she didn't think too much of it. She looked away before the groups even made it to the door of the establishment. She didn't see that, moments later, a young man went running from the casino on feet of fire- as if running for his own life.f

Abate was a stubborn bastard, and despite moments of clear fear of Corrado's next move, he had an arrogance that kept bubbling up and trying to out-wit or talk Corrado into making some kind of a deal. Amira could tell that her partner was becoming very annoyed. In truth, she was as well- though not so much at Abate as the ticking of time. Surely some of the Shark's men would be coming to check on things, or change guard posts. That was going to cause a problem. The job had to get done and quickly.

Then there was a frantic pounding at the door. Amira straightened up, her eyes narrowing. Without looking back to Corrado, she slipped her hand down behind the split of her dress and retrieved a fixed-blade karambit. As she walked quietly to the door, she put her finger through the loop and held the curved knife at a guard position near her chest. 

"Mr. Conti! Miss up, it's Franco."

Amira knew the voice well. Franco had been there the night Amira first met Tyki Mikk, and he'd become a familiar face to her. She quickly sheathed the blade and opened the door. Franco moved in quickly, shutting the door behind him. His eyes fell on the two bodies and he grimaced a bit, seeing that things had already started to go sideways.

"You and Mr. Conti have to move out- now. We got eyes on another big player that's here to do business with Abate. Real nasty son of a bitch- Boss don't want you guys tangling with him."

Amira's blood ran cold. Time was already a problem, but now it seemed things had gone from bad to worse. Amira nodded and moved back to the balcony quickly. Abate was blabbering, and Corrado looked ready to open the guy's throat and be done with it; but he looked up as Amira appeared, alarm clear in her eyes.

"We have a problem."

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Whilst never one for superstition, he felt a chill as he stared out of the grand office windows. 

His gaze continuing to watch the streets. A slow trickle of droplets begining to fall from the dark sky, tapping the ground in an almost hypnotic form. Their pace grew faster, quantity increasing larger, till soon enough, that slow trickle had turned into a heavy fall of rain.

No words left his lips, why would they with no one around to hear. Yet he remained in place, as if his body had taken on the shape of a window statue, keeping guard to scare away the passersby.

Seconds, minutes, hours, he had lost track how long he waited for their return, yet he felt a duty to keep watch.

That wait would soon be at an end though, as he saw the lights of a vehicle illumating the streets. As it drew nearer, it was a car he recognised.

They had returned to him.

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The dark sedan rolled slowly to a stop in front of the Firm's Headquarters. A cold wind rustled the trees, and rain was starting to fall in heavy drops onto the pavement. Two men emerged from the driver and front passenger doors, then one opened a back door. Franco stepped out, missing his suit jacket, and showing quite a lot of blood on his once-clean white button up shirt. Momentarily, he glanced up towards his boss's window in the HQ with a somber, troubled look in his own. He then turned and reached back into the car, pulling Amira from the back seat and lifting her into his arms like one carries a sleeping child. His coat covered her legs, and while she managed to loop her arm behind his neck, her head seemed to loll from one side to the other before she finally found his shoulder. Franco started hurrying toward the front door. 

No one else got out of the car. 

They made it through the door of the HQ and Franco bolted to the nearest of the leather couches in the front room. There, he put Amira down as gently as he could, though it still elicited a moan of pain from her. He sat her up as best he could against the arm of the couch, then looked around the room until he spotted the boss's young runner.

"Reggie- go find a blanket and get Tyki_Mikk; and get the fuck back here quick."


Having done that, Franco turned back and looked at Amira as he pulled his hands over his hair roughly. His brain was still working a million miles an hour, but had run out of things it knew to do with the last of the adrenaline still pumping through his bloodstream. Moreover, he knew the worst was yet to come.

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The footsteps of Reggie could be heard racing up the stairwell but it was not needed. Tyki was already aware of their presence within the manor. Opening the office door, he began to make his way to the grand staircase, leading down to the entrance foyer. The rain continued to pour outside and whilst the room was well lit, a certain darkness could be felt lingering.

He began his descent down the stairs, one by one, slowly making his way to the location where Amira was sat. He could tell that she had suffered some form of injury and needed care. As he reached her, he extended his hand, resting his palm on her cheek as he smiled to her.

She tried to gather the words, eyes filling up with sorrow, yet the broken within her heart made that task almost impossible. ""

Interrupting her, he spoke. "Enough. Save your strength Amira. Our first priority is getting you back to full health and making sure you have a full recovery." His words were calm but direct. He wanted to ensure she listened and that her soul was given an opportunity to try and gain some calmness in this moment of chaos.

Whilst still knelt down, giving her the much needed care and support she required, he then turned his head towards Franco and the smile which was only recently worn on his face, now vanished completely, swapped with a look that Franco knew not be ignored.

"Franco, where is Corrado?"

The answer at this point, was obvious. Yet he still wanted, needed, to hear it.

"Sir... Corrado tried to.....I tried all happened so fast. The Eagle's men swarmed the floor and gun shoots began to rain down from both sides. Amira was attempting to flee and Corrado ended up getting caught shielding a shot which would have caused her a far greater amount of damage than what you see before you. He...saved her..." Franco's gaze remained on the marble floor. Not even for a moment, could he look at Tyki. Whilst this was not his fault, he avoided eye contact as a form of respect and a way to avoid seeing the look which he knew his Boss held right now, a look that would shake him down to his core.

"Franco, get Amira all the care she needs. Prepare a suitable burial for Corrado, one he would have deserved. Afterwards, we show 'The Eagle' that the man his goons killed tonight, was a Made member of 'The Firm'. We show him just had badly his men fucked up. We bring the chaos, to his own doorstep.."

He stood up.

"This wont be a war. This will be a slaughter."

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This Forum Is For 100% 1950's Role Play (AKA Streets)
Replying to: 'The Shark' - Lorenzo Abate
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