Violent red blotches flooded the clear white sclera of his eyes with imperfections as the blood vessels burst. The man had boyish features, rough, unkempt black hair and a small, immature mustache, he had an attractiveness that would otherwise be apparent if his face was not now a deep shade of purple. Perfectly manicured fingernails clawed at his collar, desperately trying to release the pressure on his throat. It was no use, the force of the garrote was such that it began slicing through the supple flesh of his neck. The life eventually left his body and his arms fell heavy to his side. His bowels opened and bulging eyes rolled back into his swollen skull.

Murder was not an emotional experience for Anthony. His previous kills had been triggered through such intense trauma that he saw subsequent incidents as business and approached them with cold indifference. He looked down at the corpse of the croupier, whose death came only to him for his likeness to the boy. On discovery of the doppelganger, Black and White had began plotting a way to use it to their advantage and rinse the small time casino. Unfortunately, the killing had not been planned. An attempt to impersonate him was interrupted when he unexpectedly arrived for work a moment before Anthony was due to step out onto the casino floor.

The body was soon concealed in a laundry trunk, he took a moment to compose himself then took to the gambling hall.  The venue was relatively modest, however large and lucrative enough to attract high rollers from around Pennsylvania state. Placed across the edges of the room were blackjack tables, craps and whistling slot machines. Taking center stage however were the poker tables. The high stakes table was three deep from the main entrance, which was at the other side of the building from where Anthony stood.  He took a deep breath and looked over the room, security, dealers, patrons and then her.

Stepping into the hall was Lily White. She looked spotless in her flowing white dress and  gleaming pearl earrings. She was turning heads with her flawless beauty and retaining them with her dauntless elegance. On her arm was a bodyguard, carrying a suitcase cuffed to his wrist. The pair cut a path through the crowds and headed direct to the high stakes table. After a short time and a few throw away hands, Anthony stepped in and took over from the previous croupier. He introduced a new set of decks and through great practice, expertly shuffled them. He spread them out across the table for validity purposes. It was a standard deck, except the red suits were a brilliant white, mounted on an eclipsing black.

Practice. Hours of it. Not just of the game itself, but the 'tell' that would assure them the win. It had to be careless, casual, but something that would be picked up on by a knowledgeable player with a lot to lose.

Taking a seat at Anthony's table, she offers a stiff, upper-crust smile to those gathered. She was a spoiled rich girl, daughter of a steel works baron with nothing but time and money on her hands. That was the story, anyway, had anyone bothered to ask. No one did, though; one look at the briefcase and nothing else mattered.

Minimum bet, one thousand dollars. No limit. Lily played conservatively at first, eventually building an illusion of confidence as she won here and there. At first, no one paid any attention to the pearl earring. Women always fussed with their hair, nails, jewelry. But as the evening wore on, a couple of the others picked up on it. Her face remained stoic, but right before betting on a particularly good hand, her left hand toyed with her earring. Just a quick twist, nothing else, and suddenly she was laying out a full house or two pair. One fella nodded to himself as he keened to it, the other actually chuckled. It was time.

Anthony dealt the cards, and the weakest of the herd dropped out. Ten seconds, that's what Anthony had taught her. Whether you bet or fold, stare at those cards for ten seconds. Lily counted to ten, then pushed all of her chips forward. 

She never touched her earring.

Around the table, hands folded. All but one, anyway. Chuckles saw her and called, leaning back and resting his meaty paws on his rather large gut.

"Let's see 'em, Princess." he murmurs at her. Lily lays out her cards carefully. 

Four of a kind. Chuckles' face went whiter than Lily's dress. Six figures, gone, just like that. 

Pride was an emotion that had become familiar to Anthony only since meeting Lily. At no point in his life prior to her appearance had he found a purpose worthy of the feeling. Over the years during their many exploits and endeavors,  he had felt it welling up inside of him, a feeling of complete trust in the abilities and admiration of the actions of another. Lily was deserving of triggering such an intimate feeling in Black, and he had no desire to fight that at all. 

Such was his pride in his girl, the corner of his mouth couldn't help but curl. The few remaining at the table didn't register it, there was one however that did.

Later that night, as the drunks stumbled out and the high rollers saw little to no gains to be made, Lily reappeared at the doors of the casino. From across the hall, Anthony felt her arrival and his attention was drawn without conflict from the empty table he was stood at. She paced gracefully towards him and seated herself. There were no words either needed to speak, they simply watched each other and smiled suggestively. Anthony stacked up the cards and cleaned down his table, and Lily watched intently. They had made a considerable amount of money that night, enough to pay their tribute to LA and live comfortably for the rest of their lives.

At that moment, another reentered the hall. Chuckles. Not satisfied with his loss and the suspicious relationship between the lady in white and the croupier, he stormed over to the table and took her aggressively by the wrist. Before Anthony could calculate how to resolve the situation, security crashed into the room. The double doors leading to the kitchen swung violently and demanding cries erupted in their direction. A body had been discovered.

A snap decision was made. Anthony drew a concealed firearm from under the table and let loose five rounds towards security. One died, instantly. Another took a round to the shoulder and the third continued his approach uninjured. The report of the weapon rang out like the hollow pop of a firecracker, echoing throughout the hall. The remaining patrons fled at the sound, a handful poured out onto the street.

It would remain unknown if he miscounted or just couldn't risk the time to aim and fire the final round, however the pistol was discarded and Anthony vaulted across the table, taking Chuckles by the neck. The brute released Lily, though did not prove to be an easy take-down. The remaining security was fast approaching, Black called out to Lily under his breath while struggling with the disgruntled gambler.

"They don't want you, they want me. Run."

Absolutely not. She would never desert him. She found it charming that he'd entertained the thought as she picked up the wooden stool she'd been seated at moments before and swung it in an arc at the last approaching security guard. He went down with a grunt as the chair broke over his head and shoulders and Lily was left holding a snapped length of chair leg. Readjusting her grip, she aimed for his throat as she brought her full weight down on him. There was a slight gurgle and jolt of limbs as his life left him, but there was no time for Lily to process her first kill.

Anthony was behind her, losing the battle with their enraged, overweight benefactor. She stood at the ready with her broken stool leg, but no opportunity presented itself; they were struggling too frantically for her to find an opening. Pushing back the fear that threatened to paralyze her, she dropped to the ground and crawled under the poker table in a desperate search for the discarded handgun. Seconds stretched into an eternity she couldn't afford, but find it she did. Backing out from underneath the table, Lily stands and aims downwards.

Chuckles was now straddling Anthony, delivering blows to his precious face. With a shaking two-handed grip, she pulls the trigger and places a black, smoking hole in the side of the large man's head. In the muffled silence that descended, she dropped to her knees and pushed the beast off of Anthony with an adrenaline-fueled shove.

"Anthony?" She says, looking down on him, a hand planted on the floor on each side of his head. 

Hearts racing, shallow breaths and blood. Lots of blood. The final security guard fled, nursing his wound and the two were left alone in the aftermath of chaos. Her dress was splattered a gruesome shade of red as a result of the attack, though her hair only slightly disturbed. In that moment though, the two only saw each other, perfect and complete, insatiable infatuation.

Anthony could feel the shine growing on the side of his face, though the majority of the gore was not their own. He took a moment to clear the disorientating blur that so many blows to the head induces and stared upwards into her eyes. As the haze lifted he took hold of Lily's wrists and ran his hands up her arms so they found either side of her face. They exchanged declarations of love and their lips met on the casino floor.

Gradually they stood, still locked together at the mouth. Anthony lifted Lily into his hips and sat her on the poker table. A passionate and adrenaline fueled romp followed on a briefcase full of money among the glistening bodies of those unfortunate enough to cross them. They were eventually disturbed only by the approaching wail of police sirens. Sitting bolt upright, expressions of panic beset them and their gaze trained on the door. 

Half clothed, with flushed faces and crimson lipstick smeared in many locations, Black and White grinned at each other.

It was probably about time they got out of Philly.