This story starts with the birth of Bella. It was a stormy night on a boat her parents had taken to get away from Russia and get to America. Bella was birthed right on that boat in international waters, no home to go back to. Her parents did not survive the trip, the storm was so bad it toppled the boat. By some improbable chance, Bella survived and floated into the New York harbor where she was raised by a young couple in Brooklyn. Over the years as Bella got older she started asking questions, the main one being why she couldn't go to school like the rest of the kids in her neighborhood. She never got a real answer except she wasn't born here and had no papers. She was unknown but had to grow up fast. As a girl it wasn't easy for her but she learned to fight better than any boy her age. This caught the eye of some local gangsters who used this as an opportunity to make money. Imagine that, a girl no older than 13 fighting against boys her age or a little older to make money for the local gang outfit. Unheard of in this era. So she had to become a savage to survive. A savage, it seemed so basic at first not realizing what that meant when she grew up. Everyday was a fight for her, her adoptive parents were poor, so the only real money coming in was what this 13 year old girl was bringing in. Though with this came a small amount of power she held, she clung to it and craved more. Women in this era were not supposed to hold power but she had seen a few slip through the cracks. Fighting continued until she was 16, then out of nowhere the local outfit gave her a job. Simple really go collect money from someone who owed it by any means necessary, she was then handed a brand new Colt 1911. She noted how good it felt in her hands which were calloused from her years of fighting. She took it and asked no questions, she knew how this worked. Snitches die, they get thrown out, cement shoes. She was determined, this is what she grew up around. After the job she had a new nickname and created her own last name. Bella "The Savage" Brusca, a name whispered in her little neighborhood in New York. A name that would eventually come to define her. The beginning of the life of a woman that had nothing and turned it into somthing....

Bruiser listens intently as Bella tells her life story.  Once finished, Bruiser offers a response.  

It sure sounds like you went through it, but you've now made something of yourself.  You stand tall in that beautiful bold suit and I'm sure your parents are looking down on you and proud of what you've become.  The windy city is lucky to have you watching over her.

Steve stood a few feet back, leaning casually against a brick wall, a silver comb gliding slowly through impossibly structured hair. The shine caught the streetlight just right. He stepped forward slightly, pocketing the comb with deliberate care.

BellaBrusca, you carved yourself into something the city has to respect. Not many can say they were forged by chaos and came out sharper for it.

Now me? I am but a mere Earner. I earn. I do not tribute. I keep my head down and my hair high. That’s my lane. But I will say this.

The Sanctuary of Savages is one of the finest families my lineage has ever had the honour of standing with. The engagement. The presence. The constant hum of activity. It actually feels alive here. Not some dusty hallway full of ghosts pretending to be important.

It's almost as buzzing as a Nick-Valentine war-room. I’ve heard quieter thunderstorms than his father’s war room. Shame it was so loud it started leaking from the walls. You’d think they’d have invested in better plumbing. But I digress...

Eveything here is perfect, almost. If we just forget that Thorkell exists. Now I’m not saying he’s French. I’m just saying every time he speaks I instinctively look around for a white flag and a baguette. Still… every great family needs that one exotic import that makes you appreciate the local produce.

But make no mistake. Even with the cushion sniffers and the continental complications, this place stands tall. Alive. Moving. Savage in all the right ways. And I am proud to earn amongst it.

Steve pulls the comb back out, inspects his reflection in a nearby window.