The bar was bustling tonight. Outside on the streets, everyone has their own life; their own story. Here in the local madhouse, however, the liquor and cigar smoke draws every kind of lost soul into its own sort of handcrafted tale. Fine grains and honey act as a mask for all who attend the nightly masquerade here. Tell your story to anyone, and it's likely they'll forget it by morning. Secrets told are secrets sold, and for some, those secrets can be bought in pure gold.

She shook the rain from her sleeves as she stepped through the doorway. It was a cold, unwelcoming sort of night in the city. After gingerly removing her soaking outer layer and placing it on the cast-iron coat rack near the door, the woman gazed around the room. There were men dressed in suit jackets and ties, while others had been reduced down to their undershirt and suspenders. Women in fishnets and garters giggled on the laps of those willing to flip the bill, their smiles woven into the smoke-filled atmosphere like the Cheshire cat's disappearing act. Observing her surroundings and finding them to her satisfaction, the young woman weaved between tables, receiving glares from the corseted vixens as they leaned in closer to protect their earnings for the night. The bar tender caught her eye before she even reached the counter.

"I haven't seen you here before," he said, leaning on his elbows. The woman smiled and ordered a drink. She traced the edge of the bar with her delicate fingers before meeting his gaze.

"Trust your memory, Sir. You're a good business man to point out new customers." She gave him a smile as he placed the cold glass into her palm. "I'm just visiting the city for the weekend. On business, if you will." At this, the bartender nodded, acknowledging the company the bar tended to draw in.

"Can I have a name? I like to know the women who walk in here. I would offer you a job," he glanced at a woman playfully taking a man's cigar, "but I see that you're already employed." She shifted slightly as the bartender kept his gaze. He reached across the counter, then let his hand fall back, reconsidering his move. "I've never seen a woman with your features before, and I've seen a lot of women," he smirked. The woman was slender, fitting nicely into her red satin dress. A white rose was tucked into her auburn curls, accenting her porcelain skin. She gazed at him with liquid amber eyes that seemed to peer into his thoughts. He stepped back abruptly, feeling exposed in her hues. Leaning forward, she let out a soft laugh, beckoning the man back.

"My name is Fia Mularoni, from San Marino, Italy. Though, everyone has taken to calling me Ember." Her eyes appeared to shift like molten gold, her smile remaining soft and inviting. "My mother brought me here and raised me in Chicago, in the best company of men," she sifted her gaze to the crowded tables filled with glasses and bottles. "I saw her die." Thunder crashed outside of the bar as Ember became lost in her own memory.

It seemed as if the sky had finally broken. Heavy tears streamed from ominous clouds, the thunder quivering in discord. A large puddle gathered in a pit in the alleyway, mingling with the thick, crimson liquid escaping her mother's chest. A frantic beat was playing inside her head; the constant thrumming of the rain, echoes of rapid shots, a startled heartbeat, the shrill note of her mother's scream. The cold pavement threatened to blister her fingers, already having assaulted her knees when she fell. Her dark curls clung to the brick wall behind her as she tried to hide. Footsteps clambered away; a car door slammed. Wheels squealing, hatred in voices hollering out an open window.

"There's no 'next time' in a world like ours, Sweetheart."

Heavy breathing, scratching of fabric against wet asphalt; Nothing. Still the song continued in her head, beating her senseless, a prisoner of her own mind. She let go of her hideaway, carefully edging into view. First picture- a lifeless hand, drowning in a sea of murder. Slowly, taking in the whole portrait of her dead mother, as the incessant music in her head becomes bombarded with images from the past. A swirling mix of reality and memory overtake her, flashing between life and death. Now she hears the anxious patter of another pair of feet; her own. Slowly, sobs wrench from her chest, shaking her frail frame to the core. She presses her lips against a still-warm cheek, hoping against hope for the kiss to wake the slumbering beauty. Rain, heartbeat, memories.

Several dark figures move into view, not that she noticed at first. Somber-faced men dressed in dark suits gazed down at her. No, not at her; at her mother. A pair of black shoes trespassed into view. Suddenly realizing the presence, she panicked, her mind becoming numb. She withdrew backwards toward the wall- her sanctuary. A pair of cold hands grabbed her arms and pulled her upward. Struggling against the firm grip, she reached away, this time toward her mother. The hands brought her against a man's chest and covered her mouth. Helpless, she stopped resisting and welcomed the idea of a cool gun against her temple. She closed her eyes, and waited.

"Take her to my office and give her some dry clothes. Stay with her until I get back."

A deep voice startled her from the fantasy. She opened her eyes only to see a familiar face. There was a man she had seen before; he occasionally came by her house to talk with her mother. His features struck a chord of fear, running up her spine. Whenever he came to the door, her mother would send her away. Listening against the wall, she could only hear low murmurs, but she knew her mother sounded unhappy, and the man was stern. A low rumble and the flinch of her captor shook her back into reality, where she met the man's gaze. He looked concerned this time, and motioned her captor to bring her toward a dark car idling in the alleyway. As she was swept by him, the man grabbed her arm and stopped her.

"Don't worry, Kid. I'm looking out for you, now."

Ember looked up at the bartender, who was asking if she would like another drink. She nodded, pushing the glass toward him. "I'm sorry to hear about your mother," he said while tending to the tap. "If that's really your story, though, I do believe you're in the best company. I've heard a lot of stories like that." The man shook his head, looking down at the floor before glancing at her once more. He was about to add on to his thought but was interrupted by another man, one of the bar's customers.

"Ember!"

Tony rushes in out of the rain, his face expresses anger as he looks around removing his overcoat and fedora style hat. He walks over towards the bar and orders a seven and seven hoping to warm his bones. Shaking his head in disbelief as he notices the woman dressed in red and how the bartender is so transfixed on her every word. Taking napkins to dry his face and hands then looking at the bartender as to why it's taking so long to get his drink he chuckles to calm himself down. Moments later he receives his order and gives the bartender a gaze of concern. The bartender informs Tony that her name is Ember and she's on a short vacation. A small smirk spreads across his face like water flowing over a dried river bed. He tries hard not to glance her way but she is far to stunning not to. He walks over and introduces himself to the young woman and starts a conversation only to reveal that they have traveled in some of the same circles.

Ember whirls around in her chair, startled by the man's voice. A slightly wet and disheveled man is standing before her, introducing himself to her. He seems rather nice, but she wonders how he knows her.

"Have we met before?" She implores.

She hides the warm sensation in her throat by smiling along. His face was familiar, like from an old photo. Either way, if she had not known him before, she knew him now.

"Perhaps you should sit and have a drink, love. Dry off a little."

Ember smiles at the stranger as he sits next to her, telling of his travels. What an interesting man!

Listening intently at the young woman's story, Nujabes took a sip of his vodka - faint memories that were marred with age slowly working out their own pieces inside of his head. Memories of his father slowly entering into the picture - and then.. the bartender asked her name.

"Fia." The woman replied. Almost instantly, it came back to him - piece by piece.

"I'm Marc." A young boy said, no older than 6.

"I'm Fia." A girl replied, no older than the boy.

"Does your mom work with my dad?" the boy asked.

"I think so.. where are you from?" the young girl asked.

"Since I was born it's been here in Los Angeles. Dad was born here too. You?"

"Chicago. But we moved there from Los Angeles a few years ago." she replied.

"Oh. Well, it's just us because my brother has gone out again. Want to play with the building blocks in my room?" the hopeful boy asked.

"Okay!"


That play date was the only time he ever saw or met the young girl - at least he thought. His father was forced out of the Mafia and went back to government. His brother was missing, and.. her. There she sits. Admittedly, her hair was darker and the accent that he faintly remembers was all but gone, but he was sure it was the same girl. Taking a seat next to her, he put down his lowball glass - alert as can be. Thinking of the sentences in his head, he decided to come out with it - turning to the woman who was sitting mere inches away.

"We met. Almost.. 20 years ago. Your mother used to work with my father in their "pharmacy". It's kind of ironic we ended up in the same business.. It's Marc. You made my building blocks look like they were done by someone who had the misfortune of losing both of their arms. Does it bring back.. anything?"

Ember turned to the man with a raised eyebrow. His voice was low and unfamiliar, but his face was soft and inviting. When he mentioned his past with the pharmacy, she remembered exactly where she had seen his face before. It still had those young boy features, with the mask of a man on top.

"Marc? Wow. It's been.. forever. Almost." She was having a tough time forming the words that were running through her head.

Her fingers brushed her lips as she watched the moving picture that was her memory. Ember smiled as she recounted her block structure against his, the little boy in awe of her creativity. She laughed quietly to herself.

"And now you're here. Doing the same thing that I'm doing. Amazing." The man looked pleased that she remembered their childhood meeting. "How is your father doing?"

Oh, that man had some sort of energy about him, as did his father. It was incredible. She remembered her mother coming home on the arm of Marc's father, laughing about the oddest things, though perhaps she was just too young to understand. Ember and her mother had lived very well from the benefits of the pharmacy, and her mother had hid the repercussions of it even better.

Tony notices that an old friend of hers has appeared and that Ember has become lost in thought. He smiles as he watches her face blushes. Admiring her ability to regain her composer so quickly and keep stride with everything taking place not missing a beat.

Tony listens while trying not to interrupt as she talks with her young friend. He fires a look at the bartender as to call him over to refresh their drinks.

Looking into her eyes Tony slowly becomes lost in deep thought. His first concern was not to scare her off as he seeks to find out everything possible about her. Tony questions himself, amazed at her abilities to hide her strengths by displaying genuine modesty. Knowing that she is extremely intelligent he simple smiles as he tries to hide his thoughts or make any hasty judgments. Smiling Tony introduces himself.


Excuse me sir let me introduce myself I'm Tony Styles please join us.

Can I get you a drink?

Ember is there something else I can get you?

Ember shifted in her seat between the two men. She looked at her glass, still full from the last time the bartender came around, and shook her head.

"No, thank you. I'm quite content as is." She spoke softly.

She glanced back at Marc, biting her lower lip.

"I'm terribly sorry for my rudeness, but I believe I'm done for the night. Thank you for your generosity."

He extended his arm for a handshake.

"Marc - Most know me as Nujabes, though. Nice to meet you, Mr. Styles. It's a pleasure to meet a fellow ally from Saint Louis."

He turned back to Ember, wondering what the rest of the night had in store for her.

"So, Fia. What kind of business makes you come to New York, and what're your plans for tonight? This reunion calls for a small celebration at the least, and there's a coffee shop that I just opened a short taxi ride away."

The bartender walks over and informs Tony that he has a phone call. Tony excuses himself and walks over to the phone after about 10 minutes he walks back over and bids goodnight to Ember and her old friend. He pays for all the drinks smiling to himself. He picks up his hat and overcoat and walks out lighting a cigar.

Several loud thunderous booms echo's as the rain starts to pick up. The bartender tells the guest that it just thunder or a really old car trying to start up, trying to make light of a familiar noise; hoping to make the guest at easy. Just at that moment Tony stumbles back into the hotel lobby, blood flowing from his head, dazed he falls to one knee. He doesn't saying a word he looks around trying to gather his thoughts trying to figure out what just happened.


He knows that he can't at this time trust anyone. His thoughts races through his mind; who the hell do I tell did this to me? What the hell do I tell them happened? Most of all, why? Why didn't I see it happening?
He tries to stand, his eye sight blur's, still dazed as images running together nothing making since as he tries to replays the events. He falls back to one knee like an old building crumbling from its own weight as the bottom floor is blown away. Just then three men rush to his aid lifting him up to a table they hover over him like a mother hen hovers over her chick's. A look of fear falls over their faces not sure of what to expect.


Water! Someone get me a glass of water, please! Frank, help me out of this coat. Dam it! Can I get a towel, or a bandage, I'm bleeding here!


As he touch's his forehead wondering why is there such a warm sensation there when the rest of his body feels so dam cold.


He glares into Franks eyes sending him a message. Frank nods as he understands what must be done immediately. The hotel manager makes his way through the crowd asking Tony does he need a Doctor. Tony leans back in the chair smiles.


No but two minutes ago I thought I needed a priest. You need to beef up security around here it's a shame that a honest person can't even go for a walk without being mugged. However I would appreciate you getting rid of the crowd that seems to be gathering.


He notices once more from the corner of his eye that the woman in red is still there. He chuckles to himself. As he thinks "Dam I won't be able to impress her now!"

Ember raises an eyebrow at Nujabes

"What business brings me to New York? You may have only known me for a few minutes past 20 years, but I feel like business is the one way we've accidentally kept touch."

She let out a light laugh, bringing her fingers to her lips, feeling the smile that had found its way across her lips. She let it linger for a second longer, retaining the enjoyment of the evening.

"I would love to meet you for coffee sometime, though I only really drink tea. Where..?"

Suddenly, the door of the bar swung open, slamming into the coat rack on the other side. A man stumbled forward, a bloody hand pressed against his forehead. He started yelling something she couldn't quite hear over the noise in the bar. Ember watched curiously as the men in the bar sprang into a tight crowd around the man, who pushed through them. The man's face caught her attention.

"Tony? What happened? I didn't know it was so dangerous outside the door, or I wouldn't have lingered there so long before choosing to come in."

She half smiled at the man, who was now standing behind her with a cloth pressed against his brow.

Just as Ember finishes speaking gum shoes walk in with uniform cops behind them and news reporters and photographer behind them. Detective Foley a fat but honest cop and his partner detective O'Brian a young enthusiastic cop who dresses extremely well both walk up to Tony as he is leaning back in his chair pressing a bloody rag to his forehead.


Foley recognizes Tony and start into him like a British bull dog into steak but ensuring no pictures are taken and that the reports stay outside.


Ahh it's you Mr. Tony Styles, I should have known you would have had something to do with the two dead men outside in the car. Just like your father you're going to end up shot in the back of the head laid out in the streets spread wide for public viewing. Kid you're smarted then that give up this business you're in before it's too late.


Tony smiles but doesn't say a word which starts to anger detective O'Brian. Foley goes on to say.


I know you didn't kill those two men they were killed by shotgun blast. Looks like you caught a fragment or two yourself. I got witnesses that states a car pulled up alongside and opened fire four shotgun blast to be exact and then they said they saw a young man stumble into this place. Tony where they gunning for you? Who are the two men in the car?


The cops asked they're twenty questions but Tony never said a single word. Foley decided to call it a day knowing that he wasn't going to get any information and that he can't haul Tony up town to the precinct he was the victim in this case. He warns Tony that the police will be watching and that their better not be any gun play. O'Brian gives a look of anger, unsatisfied with not getting answers. Foley tells O'Brian that either way it will result in gangsters killing gangsters it's the civilians they need to worry over. The officers leave far faster then they arrived.


Tony looks into Embers eyes, lost in the gaze a small joyous smile breaks his cold stare wanting to say so much and then he snaps back into the situation at hand.


You better get back to your friend before he leaves. I'll be around if you ever need me.


Tony stands up unassisted as Frank returns and whispers into his ear. Tony listens as he stares into the bloody rag never changing his facial expression he only nods as he receives the information.

"I hope your friend is okay.." Nujabes said. Somewhat disoriented by the odd run of events in the past half-hour, his attention slowly returned back to him before remembering Ember's question.


"Oh, I have a shop in South Philadelphia. You're more than welcome to a warm drink. Tell me.. considering we're in the same business, how did you come about following your mother's footsteps?"

Ember tries to catch the last bits of Tony's conversation, but realizes that she shouldn't be listening in. With such a lucrative business, eavesdropping can get you into a lot of trouble. She sighed and turned her attention back to the band sitting on the barstool next to her.

"South Philadelphia? I do believe I'll be up there quite often. I do love a hot cup of tea."

She smiled and nodded at the bartender, who was eyeing her empty glass. She smiled at Marc, then looked down at the ring on her index finger. It was silver, and had her mother's initials carved into it, followed by hers.

"Well, I suppose I didn't really have a choice. I watched her die, and they knew it. Your father actually had some contacts take me in. Since then, I've known nothing else but this sort of life. I'll direct your own question to you, love. How did you manage to end up here after all these years?"

Tony heads to his room and takes a shower the cut over his right eye stops bleeding. It only reveals a small cut. Changing clothes and Tony is dressed to impress; he is wearing a white cotton pressed shirt with gold cufflinks and a charcoal gray tie and his charcoal gray slacks and vest part of his three piece suit that has thin light gray pin stripes. He splashes just a tiny amount of his favorite Drakkar cologne. He puts charcoal gray dress socks and black wing tip shoes. Every hair on his head lays perfectly flat in it's proper place. Then he places his shoulder holster and is 1911 45 Looking like a rich aristocrat as he puts his suit jacket on and adjust his sleeves. Heading out through the bar Tony is amazed that Ember and her friend have not left. The bartender has a terrified look as he see's Tony dress up. His men are also very well dressed two of them have long over coats and something bulging under them. Tony gives a sarcastic grin then he nods to Ember conveying a message that they may never see each other again after tonight. Leaving with Frank at his side you see them drive off through a window.

Tony arrives at the meeting place on Statton Island for a sit down with his Don and Underboss along with all the family Capo's. Before Tony is able to speak and to his surprise the Don explain's that the hit was not on him but two of the men in the car, they were stealing from their boss and the hit men took the first opportunity to complete the job. The hit men were not local and they don't know all the players in our world. The Don explains that because Tony kept his head by getting the package, recovering the payment and never gave the police any type of information that all the members arrived to the same conclusion. The Don then informs Tony that the family has appointed him to be the family's consigliere. Tony accepts the position and is honored that the boss and underboss along with the capo's agreed to select him. After a small celebration Tony returns to the hotels bar Tony orders drink for everyone and rewards his men for his good fortune. Tony sitting at a table he begins to thinking back on his father and how proud his father would be.