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Kole Marinos

Loyalty is everything in this world.

0 · 2,183 views · located in Manhattan, New York

a character in “In Mafia Vita”, as played by Korrye

Description

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The Crime Boss' Police Mole/The Informant

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Full Name:| Simple enough I suppose... Kole Issac Marinos Implicitly a Genovese.
Nicknames:| Usually name name is simple enough... on the streets I was called Ace
Age:| I don't lie about the fact that I'm... 24.
Gender:| Check my pants... Can't you tell I'm a guy?
Orientation:| I'm a major flirt without knowing... Heterosexual
Originally From:| No such thing as humble roots here... Chicago, Illinois

Currently Living:| Between two places Apartment in Midtown West, often in the Upper East Side however.

Occupation:| I live two lives... On the face of things he is an agent of the federal Department of Justice's Organized Crime and Gang task force, working in conjunction the FBI and local organized crime officers in the NYPD. Secretly he infiltrated the police as an informant for Jonathon Genovese to feed the family intel on the law's course of action against the family and it's business.

Likes:| I'm a pretty simple guy...
Ever since he was a child, Kole has preferred to be outside. Stories of the jungles in Africa or in South America thrilled him and his favorite movies as a child were The Jungle Book and Tarzan. Being outdoors in the fresh air outside of a city center is where he really wants to be. There is nothing better than the silence of a rural area, the whistle of crickets and a million stars in the sky. He loves the smell of fresh cut grass and cedar trees. This obviously makes Christmas one of his favorite holidays since it's an excuse to bring a real pine tree indoors. Any season suits him. He likes the heat of the summer but the fresh quality of the air in autumn of the crisp bite of winter cold suits him. He loves it all.

With a love of the outdoors comes a passion for hiking and running. Fitness has never been a goal, it's just something that Kole enjoys doing. He enjoys cycling in his free time and for a brief while he worked as a bike messenger in Manhattan and loved it until a cab sent him over the windshield of a passing vehicle. He also enjoys basketball, paintball and swimming. When it comes to sports he would far rather be playing - even football - than watching.

Food is also something loves - even the simplest plate of meat and potatoes will never be taken for granted given how often he was hungry as a child. He loves his steak. With a nice dinner comes the desire for a quiet night. He's far from a partier and his ideal night is one on his couch with his German Shepard watching action movies. He's got a sweet tooth though and has found a fondness for New York style Cheesecake and those new cake pop innovation things - not that anyone on his task force knows. He's known to also have candy in or around his person.

He enjoys music but nothing too loud. He prefers to walk or ride his bike somewhere over driving. That said, he has nothing against cars and he can appreciate the beauty of them. It's the expense of driving that turns him off to the enterprise. When it comes to reading he will if he has to but it's not something he will spend his free time on. When there's a moment to spare in his hectic life he'd much prefer relaxing or recreation. There is nothing wrong in his mind with a day spent in his boxers in bed.

He's a handyman at heart as well and is never afraid of a do it yourself project. He enjoys carpentry and time spent at the gun range. Still, he prefers solitude over crowds and being alone over being with family. He's more than happy to enjoy the company of his own thoughts though he can grow restless if he spends too much time indoors. He's not one to spend a lot of time at a desk or in front of a computer. He prefers to write down things by hand and he's one to call you even if you're texting him a message.

Dislikes:| Don't even get me started...
First and foremost he is not one for small spaces, rooms without windows or extended periods of time indoors. Kole will grow restless, agitated and uncomfortable. He prefers silence over deafening noise. He doesn't like rap, screamo or metal music. He doesn't enjoy being in clubs or discos. He feels disabled by the environment. He can't stand people who talk to no end. He prefers it when a person is blunt and to the point, no fluff involved. That said, he has no respect for those without manners or respect for authority figures. People who make a scene, are ungrateful or are extremely self centered also irritate him to no end.

Kole also avoids dancing, any sort of sport that involves skating and singing. He's not good at any of them and would rather save his dignity and not be caught doing any of them. He also doesn't like nuts - not because he's allergic but strictly for the taste. He also can't eat poptarts or fastfood at often - even the smell can make him queasy and it draws up memories of his childhood in foster care.

His experience within the program as a child turned him off to the American government. He feels the state fails the majority of Americans and as a result feels that he has no true obligation to obey every which law they command when it's to the benefit of a very rich select few. He's fine with breaking laws and has a wild streak in him in that respect. He's not afraid to piss people off and he's never been a fan of law enforcement himself - so it's ironic that he's now one of them. Bureaucratic red tape is a headache to him and he's never afraid to push protocol or the rules more generally. He likes to test people and see how far he can push them - for better or for worse.

Kole doesn't like the idea of tornadoes either and he hates rodents or bugs. He hates mosquitoes as they always seem attracted to him. He's not one for video games - though he loves his game boy precisely because he could take it outside - or a lot of TV. He's not afraid of the rain but a lot of days without sun may see him grow irritable as well. He'll be pumped up on coffee in those instances - something he loves like most people.

Lastly, he doesn't like needy women. He much prefers to have a woman be strong and independent, with enough sass to push him back a little. He doesn't like cats however, or doing dishes. Cooking is not his thing either - the simpler the better. He doesn't like driving, as was said. He also doesn't like commercialism or the flaunting of wealth for the sole purpose of expressing your richness.

Fears:| You never heard this about me...

  • First, Kole fears being arrested. Death does not scare him but being locked in a concrete box for the rest of his life terrifies him.
  • The idea of losing control over his own body.
  • Disappointing Jonathon
  • Becoming an ungrateful money-centric individual.

Secrets:| I have a to lose if any of this comes to light...
  • He is ultimately on Jonathon's side and is the mole within the crime agency hunting down the Genovese family. Those within the law believe he is pretending to work on Jonathon's side.
  • He believes himself to be a more worthwhile heir to the family business than Jonathon's own son. He feels more responsible and introduced into the business, more cool sand capable as well.
  • He recently murdered an FBI handler who realized he was a mole.



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Hobbies:| You'll often find me outdoors...anywhere with trees really.
When Kole needs to kill time, he's often sporting outside. He runs every morning through Central Park for an hour before taking his dog to run off leash where it's permitted. He spends a lot of time in the park period, playing soccer or basketball. He often isn't afraid to take Dylan Genovese with him to the boat pond either. When he's tired of the park he's often found at Coney Island Beach on the Boardwalk area. He's tried surfing and knee boarding there in the morning's too. When those areas are too packed with tourists he can be found cycling throughout New York, grabbing an excellent burger at a hole in the wall restaurant in Little Italy or spring rolls in China Town. He's social and most everywhere he goes he's a regular - a lot of restaurants know who he is. He's a loyal customer if he's served well. That said, he spends time at the policy academy and at the shooting range. He runs drills in his free time too. If it's the winter time he'll go upstate and go snowboarding. He's also inclined to spend time with the Genovese family, though his career never truly has him 100% off duty.

Talents:| I've never considered myself that great at anything...
As a small child and now especially as an adult, the only thing Kole considered himself good at was lying. He didn't have the conscience that caused him to flinch or grow flustered. He got used to lying to his father about where his mother was, about why he was bruised or had cuts on his hands and knees to his teachers. When he met Jonathon Genovese however, he wasn't good enough and the crime boss saw through him. When he confessed, Jonathon took it in stride. Honesty was rewarding with him, and it earned him a hot meal and eventually a home and a real family unlike anything he had ever had. Now as an adult his skill is the reason he was able to pass a lie detector test and become a cop and play the role that he does. Aside from that, Kole is athletic. He is a strong runner and he is very agile and adept on his feet. He has excellent hand eye coordination which makes him a quick and sure shot at the range. Outside of his career, Kole is a great carpenter and that he learned from his grandfather and shop teacher in high school. He enjoys it and construction did entice him once but it seemed so corrupt and the men who worked in it weren't good company in his mind.

Deficits:| A lot. I have my faults.
Academics has never been his strong suit. Sitting in a classroom bored him as a child and his teachers often thought he had a learning disability due to his inability focus. He's much more of a kinesthetic/tacit learner - if he has to move his hands and feet and do something along with an instructor he is much more engaged. He's never been good at skating and the only reason he can dance is because of Victoria Genovese hiring an instructor to teach both of her sons how to dance properly around the time of Charlee's cotillion. Additionally, Kole is not the most timely or organized person. He is notoriously late and he doesn't value time in the same way as most. He values cleanliness but he feels more comfortable when everything is in it's place in a mess. He's not the best dater either and while he can flirt away his time with women, he misses a lot of signals when a girl is into him. Many times he is considered to have rough manners. As much as Victoria tried to instill traditional etiquette in him, Kole is still rough around the edges - and he still prefers to eat with his hands. Kole is also much more of a people watcher than a chatterbox so idle chat can sometimes become awkward as he will withdraw from it and simply not care.

Weapons:| Bang bang goes the gun - but my firsts can do a lot of damage on their own.
Kole carries with him a Smith & Wesson Model 5906, or a Glock 22 as issued by his department. A gun is on his person at all times. He has completed his Special Weapons and Tactic training and as such is comfortable using an M4 Carbine, and a Remington Model 870 shoftgun when required to. He will often use a variety of weapons when he's at the gun range. He is more than wiling to drop a gun and use his own two hands of course.


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Personality:| I'm no John Doe.
From afar he looks like a golden boy, well dressed, handsome and charming. He holds himself well and has strong posture. He is mature looking and conservative in terms of his dress. He is professional when in uniform and well kept when he's out of it. Kole always walks with a brisk pace wherever he goes. When he's on the job he's serious, and often looks like he'd brooding. Something is always on his mind, whether it's work or family related. When he's off the job he is lighthearted and looks for a laugh. He is protective of those close to him and he is ultimately a people pleaser. Like a loyal Labrador, he aims to ensure those he loves are happy and he often puts them first and over himself.

Kole smiles a lot, but upon closer inspection it's easy to see that he's damaged. He's very blunt and sharp. When he's uncomfortable he is quick to fall quiet. He chooses his words carefully whenever he's engaged in conversation. He speaks in a simple and witty tone, not afraid to mock those he knows and doesn't like that much. He's guarded around strangers yet incredibly open around those he knows. Those who know him know him well, especially the Genovese family. They know everything there is to know about his history, especially Jonathon in particular who broke through to him as a young teenager.

Loyal is the best word a person can use to describe to him. If Kole knows a person will be reliable and good to him in return, he will be close and defensive and moreover devoted to that individual. For the few he is close to, he would gladly take a bullet for. He is incredibly protective of his family, especially the Dylan Genovese and Jonathon himself. He would do anything to make them happy, and to ensure their safety, even if that means harming others and lying through his teeth on pain of treason. He is stubborn and headstrong. When his mind is set on something there is little you can do to prevent him from doing what he wants. He aims to do his best and he puts 100% into everything that he dedicates himself to.

On top of being guarded, Kole has a history of being a pathological liar to the point of believing the life he makes for himself. As a child his efforts got him into trouble and eventually with the law until he caused trouble with Jonathon Genovese and the man shook some sense into him. He can still have a punkish streak to him and it's one that shows more to the law enforcement officers that he works with than with the Genovese family. He is fearless in the face of the law and often flouts rules of procedure which has his reprimanded often. To those he isn't close to, Kole is steely and resolved. He's not afraid to mouth off those he doesn't respect. He is at the very core an emotional person and whenever anyone close to him is threatened his temper and fear for those people takes control - leading to irrational action in some cases.



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History:| I was born a street rat. I will likely die one.
From the moment he was born, Kole was surrounded by hostile individuals. His father was a loanshark, a cold and cruel man who was heartless when it came to those who decided to take money from him. His mother was an exotic dancer, one who stripped for money more often than she worked in more upstanding clubs. The couple was tense, fighting more often than they got along. Yvette was a Russian immigrant, a woman toughened by her own difficult life in her homeland as a young adult, and then by the hardship of being an alien in America. Chicago was home to both of them and the two suited the grit of the city. Daniel Merideros was his father, a man in deep with the local mob syndicate. His mother was Yvette Bell. While his mother never connected herself to any one specific mob, she came to be viewed as the possession of Daniel. Though they never married, she was as bound to him as any wife.

Kole was an accident, the result of a broken condom and the use of prescription medication on top of birth control. Yvette had never been pregnant before and she had always tried to be as careful as possible. Stripping and dancing led to sexual encounters for money on various occasions. She was good at what she did until she met Daniel Merideros. He loaned money to the club she was working at and when he saw her demanded her 'services.' After a month of being his own private entertainer, Yvette got pregnant. Daniel asked her to abort it but she refused. Taking responsibility for the dancer and her feisty son, Daniel sought to shelter the two from his business. That proved impossible and as a young child Kole's home was often a violent and tumultuous place filled with shouting and swearing and an offbeat crowd of his father's clients. When he was taught his name Kole was unable to pronounce Merideros fully, and he always called himself Marinos - and it would be the last name he adopted when his parents died.

His mother would try to leave Daniel four times before she died. Yvette wanted a better life for her son, a life outside of the toxic environment of Chicago. She was in deep however, owing money to Daniel and with little savings of her own. The first time she tried to leave, Kole was four. He remembers the incident vaguely and it is perhaps his earliest memory. His mother was halfway out the front door with him in her arms when his father stormed through the door and held a gun up at the both of them, threatening her if she left with his blood, and without paying her debts. Tearfully she stumbled back inside, coddling Kole in her lap and trying to prevent him from hearing the lecture she received from his husband about her ingratitude. Kole was seven the second time and at school when his mother arrived in a flurry, taking Kole out of his class early and driving beyond city limits. They were in a restaurant and Kole was happily eating fish and chips when his father arrived and grabbed Yvette by the arm, saying simply that 'it was done.' When Kole was nine he learned what the 'it' portion of his father's words were - a coup against his mob boss that he had led, instating a new more powerful out of town mobster to the top rank. Loyalty was not something Daniel felt to anyone. He was his own man. It was when he was nine that Kole realized that his father was also a regular cheat. When he was ten his mother would bring home strange men at night - clients and boyfriends. As they weren't married it wasn't adultery but it may well have been given the way they treated each other when each affair came to light.

Kole loved his mother yet as he grew older he became to view her as weak. He wondered continuously why she didn't leave a clearly terrible situation. She appeared to him a coward, and his father was little better. He saw his father beat up on many occasions by the people he worked for. He was afraid to leave himself however, as he had no money and nowhere to go. He knew his mother's father lived somewhere in upstate New York as they had visited him once but promptly left when the man had harassed his father. He didn't know who he was though or where he was only that he existed. He had no means of getting out. Instead he go into trouble. His parents were far from good parents. Yvette would dance her nights away, well into the morning hours. Daniel would go a week without coming home. There was no money for a babysitter and as a result their method of keeping Kole in check was to lock him into his room during the day. It was like prison. He had a small TV set and would watch Disney movies on repeat all day. He would color and draw and read his books over and over. He would stage his army men. He was okay as there was an ensuite bathroom attached to his room. But often he would get hungry and had nothing to eat but a few granola bars left for him on his bed. When he started school it was better but not by much. He would often he left at the school to be picked up hours later, only to be locked in his room again. He had few friends and often felt like he didn't exist. He was seven when he climbed out his window the first time, driven by the fact that he had been on his own for twelve hours and was starving. He wandered over to the neighbor's house and asked the old woman if she could please teach him to make a sandwich. The old woman was kind enough to help him with a PB&J. When child protective services were called, his parents decided to move.

When school started, Kole became self sufficient. He got himself to and from the building and did his homework to the best of his abilities. He loved being able to play outside when he was there and gym was rapidly his favorite class. He wasn't a stand out case to many of his teachers however and he flew under the radar, quiet and complacent a lot of the time just like his mother. He was ten when he felt sick and tired of his life however, and he started to get restless. Without any money to pay for the things he needed, Kole started to steal. Whether it was food, clothes or school supplies, he figured out ways to do it all. That is until the local Walmart caught onto his game and had him arrested. He was put into juvie and worse he wasn't bailed out. When he called his parents, his father denied that he was his son. When he tried to contact his mother, she was busy entertaining a client. He was forced to serve out his sentence and the prison system was hard on him. When he was let out six months later, he was forced into additional community service and never heard the end of it. He was thirteen then. He started to get more aggravated as his parents supported him less. He started breaking into model homes and he would get into trouble again and again, arrested and accumulating a lengthy record. He started boosting cars even before he could drive at thirteen. Then everything came to a halt.

His mother was killed first. She was brutally stabbed and left to die in a hotel room just a month after Kole's fourteenth birthday in January. The killing served to ignite tensions between competing mobs and Daniel would urge his mafia man to lead a charge against those infringing on territory that wasn't theirs. Chicago erupted into violence and within three weeks Daniel would be shot in a drive by shooting as he entered the home. Kole had been in the upstairs shower when bullets rained down on the house. When he dressed and ran out to the front he was confronted with his father. He held him in his lap as he died, with Daniel's parting words being simply that he was sorry.

As an orphaned minor, Kole was sent by child services to live with his grandfather Edgar Stolosgov in Albany New York. The old man was as Russian as his daughter Yvette and more so. He was strict, keeping Kole in line with hardline rules. He had a curfew and he had to be in school or there was to be trouble. Kole went without food when he was a smartass to the old man. When he was sitting around, Edgar would pull Kole into his woodshop and teach him carpentry. Edgar was older however, and sick when he took in his grandson. Kole stayed with him for a mere eight months before he passed away in his sleep. Edgar had done everything he could to put Kole on a straighter path and he knew the man cared for him dearly as he did him. He had been taught valuable skills and in some ways again respected the law until child services placed him in another home. Then it came to the surface that his parents' murderers were left at large. The last strike against his faith in the government would come when Edgar's body was claimed by the city morgue and a letter left to him in the old man's will explained that he had been sick and had not had the insurance coverage to buy the appropriate medication to save his life. When he went into foster care, he was taken on as a means for a scumbag family to get additional coupon payments from the government. Kole was one of six kids being hosted by a family who had two of their own. He had no bed of his own and he gained little from them. The people reminded him too much of his own parents and the wife was a cruel drunk. He made the decision to flee, stealing money from the woman and claiming whatever money left to him by Edgar to take a Greyhound bus into Manhattan.

Kole didn't know why but the big city seemed to him a place of opportunity. He was fifteen then, and barely able to work but he wanted to try. Of course, when he approached a construction site and tried to lie about his age the foreman didn't buy it. Kole ran away from the man before he could be found to be a runaway. He was left to the streets and he stayed on them for six weeks, spending his nights in the subway or in homeless shelters. He did odd jobs for money before he found himself truly desperate. He wound up in the upper west side, behind a really nice restaurant. He had been trying to sleep in the alley behind it when he saw a bus boy come out and toss two bags of food scraps into the dumpster. Starving, Kole shamelessly tore through the garbage to get at whatever he could. Of course, he wasn't the quietest and when the head chef poked his head into the alley only to find a punk knee deep in their garbage, he pounced on him. Dragging him inside, he detained him in his office thinking he was a member of a rival family looking for intel on the Genovese family. In walked Jonathon who had been eating dinner with his wife at the restaurant at the time. The man was no nonsense. Kole tried to lie but he was forced to say the truth. He begged not to be taken in to the cops. He explained that he was a runaway, desperate. He explained that he was an orphan. And lastly, he added, the structure of the restaurant looked faulty. Jonathon was amused but Kole proved the faulty work by showing that the foundation was already sinking - and the building itself was only five years old.

It was an in and he didn't realize it that night. Jonathon brought him home, presenting him to his wife as a project. Victoria Genovese was at first unhappy that her husband had essentially brought home a stray. Kole sensed something in Jonathon however - he was a strong man and he was powerful. The money surprised him, but it was nothing compared to the defense Jonathon put up for him when the police did come sniffing one day, looking for a missing kid. Jonathon claimed him and he was taken in as a foster child by the Genovese. Kole was immediately at odds with the eldest son and awkward around Jonathon's very pretty daughter. He bonded with the youngest, Dylan, however and Victoria as well. He was put back in school and tutored privately to catch up. He graduated on time and found himself with a room in the house and a seat at their table. He loved them for all the opportunity they gave him. And it was upon graduation that he decided to return the favor by enrolling in the police academy and pursuing a place on the very task force that seemed to trouble Jonathon so much. If the police weren't after Kole, they often were around Jonathon. Moreover they were often speaking with Nathaniel, Jonathon's second in command. Kole was intimidated by the Genovese patriarch and as such he bonded with the crime boss' best friend more than the family. He found an idol in Nathaniel and it was Nate who broke through to him just like his grandfather had. He had an opportunity in this family. He understood the underside of the lifestyle. He was rough and more than anything willing to learn. Kole bonded with Nathaniel and through the last bit of his high school years he learned to shoot and spar. He fell back into athletics and loved it all.

When he took his position in the police academy it was a tough sell. Upon his graduation and initiation into the service he was pulled aside by a handful of agents who knew of his association. He was questioned brutally and for the course of a weekend about his affiliation, about what he knew. He convinced them of his position. He felt that he had seen many things - and he had - and he wanted to take down this family. He told them that the Genovese were too alike the same people who had killed his family years before. He lied but it rang so true and he was accepted in as their link, becoming what they felt was a triple agent: they felt that he was pretending to be an informant for the Genovese when in fact his loyalty to the family has never faltered.

As he's grown older, his passions for the family have only grown stronger. He loves them dearly and feels like they are his true family, far better parents than Yvette or Daniel ever were. He is a doting brother, and honorable son. He seeks to please them all, and he remains closest to Nathaniel after nearly a decade in their midst.

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Miscellaneous:| What else is there to cover...really?
  • His German Shepard Duke is a retired police dog, fully trained and adopted by Kole when he moved into his own apartment.
  • Drives an olive green Toyota Tundra truck.
  • Lives in his own apartment purchased for him by Victoria Genovese.

So begins...

Kole Marinos's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Victoria Genovese Character Portrait: Kole Marinos Character Portrait: Kalista Ross Character Portrait: Jonathon Genovese Character Portrait: Sienna Rose Character Portrait: Anthony "Tony" Rizzo
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

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#, as written by Mela
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ā€œI know that. I hate him. But heā€™s the only other dead body that Iā€™ve seen die.ā€ Kole said, and Jonah sighed, at a loss as his hand fell from his sonā€™s shoulder. He had nothing more to say. This was something Kole needed to sort through and deal with alone, because no one could help him. The patriarch only hoped his adoptive son was up for itā€¦ hoped so very badly that heā€™d pull through. That he was strong enough, or ratherā€¦ cold enough. The ability to kill was not what defined strength in a man to Jonah, although many be think so of him. What defined strength was being able to pull through in spite of all odds being against you. Strength was balancing the dark sides of life and still finding room to let in the light. If you could do that, you were among the strongest of menā€¦ or women for that matter.

ā€œI know,ā€ Jonah finally noted quietly, letting his mask of coldness fade for brief moments with his son as he then continued, ā€œJust promise me you will face this, Kole. Do not shut it out; do not try to ignore it. It will only come back and tear you apart later.ā€ With that, Jonah sent the briefest of looks in Nateā€™s direction, but it was so quick there was no way to tell whether that was what heā€™d actually done, as he looked back at his son. Before the crime boss had a chance to say anymore, Nateā€™s voice rang out, and Jonah couldnā€™t stop himself from smiling wryly at the tone. The two of them shared a very distinct dislike for the casino manager, but he made money. Lots of money, and Jonah was not going to throw away a good investment unless he had very good cause to. Then his mask was back up suddenly.

In response to Nateā€™s words, Jonah checked his phone, frowning at the time. Was it really eight already? And Tony had yet to arrive? He glanced up at his second in command, placing the phone back in his pocket, almost too calmly. ā€œNot here yet, as usual,ā€ he said coolly. Rendetti, Mr. Mick Carter, and Miss Kalista Ross seemed to be the only ones who still had the ability to arrive on time. He and Nate would have to have a littleā€¦ talkā€¦ with the rest of his associates. Jonah paused, his gaze landing on Kole once more when he began speaking, noting that he had to goā€¦ and that he needed something to take back to the unit. He listened quietly to all of it, nodding once when he had finished speaking.

Before he could reply, however, knocking sounded, and he took out his phone briefly, wanting to see if it was Tony like heā€™d requested, or not. Sure enough, the money maker had decided to show. Well, he would be let it whenever it damn well pleased the boss. And so, Jonah ignored him for now, putting his phone away and replying to his son. ā€œIā€™ll be sure to look into it. Both the information and the hitch.ā€ Jonah picked up the thank-you envelope from his desk and handed it to his son, more or less putting it into his hand for him. ā€œPut it in the guest roomā€™s safe for the evening, just in case.ā€ He ordered casually. ā€œAnd take the alternative way out.ā€ Jonah had other ways to get out of his office than through the library. One of them was through the conference room, which led to a smaller hallway, which led to his and Vickyā€™s bedroom.

It wasnā€™t something he would usually allow, but he didnā€™t need Tony to get any interesting ideas about Kole, even if the cops did think he was spying on the Genovese for him. No reason to tempt fate. So he put the papers Kole had give him away and then opened the door for Kole, not bothering to see him through it before he moved towards the other door, noting behind him, ā€œNate, make sure he gets out of here, then make sure to keep Rizzo here while I speak with my dear wife. Heā€™s at the door.ā€ Then Jonah was out of the office, in the sitting room, and then in the library, to which he opened the door, facing Tony with a deadly cold look in his eyes.

ā€œYouā€™re late,ā€ he merely stated, his tone dangerously calm. ā€œI trust you will not be so next time I give you direct orders.ā€ Then he opened the door wider. ā€œGet inside.ā€ Jonathon was clearly not pleased, and Rizzo would feel that soon enough. After the meeting, he would deal with those who had decided to be late. He gave the guy a coldly calculating look before he made his way downstairs, quick to distinguish his wifeā€™s voice. Wait, had she just said Sienna? He would have frowned if he had been a male more expressive. Instead, Jonathonā€™s eyes merely hardened and he sped up, not even pausing to greet the people who were eagerly trying to talk to him. He didnā€™t stop until he was beside his wife, facing the other two ladies. Indeed. Sienna Rose. And Nate didnā€™t know she was there? Good.

Jonah cleared his throat to make his presence known, inclining his head quietly in Doctor Ardenā€™s direction. A show of respect and a greeting all in one, but for her benefit, he added, ā€œgood evening, Doctor.ā€ Then his gaze fell on Sienna, beyond ice cold, but he said nothing to her, instead he leaned in to whisper in his wifeā€™s ear. ā€œI will be starting the meeting in a couple of minutes. Make sure everyoneā€™s busy, hm?ā€ Then he straightened entirely, eyes once more on Sienna, anger seething in him. ā€œAh, and dear, would you please get thisā€¦ womanā€¦ out of my house before I do it myself? Do not tell him anything.ā€ He noted, taking one dangerously threatening step towards Sienna, his eyes almost murderous.

Then he leaned in to whisper, his voice menacing, but low enough to only be heard by her. ā€œYou practically tore out my best friendā€™s heart when you left him, you little bitch. You have a lot of nerve showing your face in my house. Get the fuck out before you leave here in a less than pretty state.ā€ Before she could even reply, Jonah was off, not caring one bit why she was there or what purpose she served. All he cared about was keeping her away from Nate. The man was cracking enough as it was; he didnā€™t need this little lady to come screw any more with his head. In fact, Jonah was going to make sure she got the hell out of Manhattan as soon as possible. She had caused Nate enough pain, and Jonah honestly didnā€™t take too kindly to that.

As he walked back up the stairs, heading back to his office, Jonah sent out the text to all of his associates, minus Tony. They would all know who the text was from, but it was completely untraceable.

To: All business associates

ā€Library. Now. Slip out unnoticed.ā€

From: Sender Unknown

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kole Marinos Character Portrait: Jonathon Genovese Character Portrait: Anthony "Tony" Rizzo Character Portrait: Nate Hagen
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ā€œNate, make sure he gets out of here, then make sure to keep Rizzo here while I speak with my dear wife. Heā€™s at the door.ā€

Hagen said not a word, none was needed. With a slight nod he ushered Kole out of the room. Once Kole was safely on his way Nathan made his way back to the library. It was there he found Anthony Rizzo, manager of one of the East Coastā€™s largest casino chains and one of Jonah's top money makers. Nathan's eyes hardened as they fell upon Rizzo. Always so smooth, so calm and playing it so cool it made Nate's stomach churn. That predatory gaze Rizzo adopted anytime there was a woman in the room. The lack of respect he had for Jonah and the friendship he was building with Victoria made Nate's blood burn. There wasn't a day that went by sometimes that Nate didn't think about strangling him.

Nathan stepped further into the room, his steps slow and steady like the footsteps of an executioner. He did not address Tony, he did not greet the man he hated. He merely walked past him as if he was stepping around a mess a dog might leave behind. Nate stopped at the small bar near the window and fixed himself a stiff drink. The ice cubes clinked ever so slightly in the glass of whiskey. Nate took a long drink, savoring the warming sensation as the alcohol ran down his throat. He slowly turned around and stared daggers into the back of Tony's head as his mind drifted off to a dark and bloody place where images of all the countless ways Hagen could kill Rizzo resided. Enjoying the visions Nate made his way back around the sofa Rizzo was currently lounging in to stand by the small coffee table as he looked down on Rizzo with a low boiling disgusted anger.

"Feel free to run late on Jonah's next meeting Tony. I'd love the chance to show you what your guts look like."

Not but a few seconds later Nate's phone went off with a text from a blocked number, indicative of a business message from Jonah.

To: All business associates

ā€Library. Now. Slip out unnoticed.ā€

From: Sender Unknown


Nathan's jaw tensed slightly in anticipation of the meeting and slid the Iphone back into his suit jacket pocket all the while keeping a watchful eye on Rizzo should he decide to wander around the estate.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Victoria Genovese Character Portrait: Kole Marinos Character Portrait: Jonathon Genovese Character Portrait: Sienna Rose Character Portrait: Nate Hagen Character Portrait: Lydia Arden
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#, as written by Korrye
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Kole felt Jonah pull away physically but that didnā€™t stop his adoptive father from trying to be reassuring. As he rambled his way through the last of his talking points, Jonathonā€™s points lingered. Face it. Head on. Like a game of chicken only youā€™re going to collide with it and you need to. It wasnā€™t the first time he had been told this. In fact, it was something both of the Genoveseā€™s told him in a regular basis growing up. If I had a quarter for every time they told me thatā€¦ Victoria had always been particularly keen to tell him the exact same thing: donā€™t try to not deal with something. It would only prove more painful in the future. Yet, hiding things and bottling up his emotions had been his way of life growing up. His birth parents had never wanted to know that he had a problem. They didnā€™t have the time of day for him in the first place. If he raised an issue he was locked in his room. Having grown up that way, Kole still lapsed into the habit. Now that he had been away from home so long he had been repressing so much of his unease. Now that he was curtly reminded by his adoptive parents not to do so it was like removing a cork from a very pressurized bottle.

ā€œIā€™ll be sure to look into it. Both the information and the hitch,ā€ Jonathon thanked him, before picking up the manila envelope filled with cash and forcing it into his hands. Kole looked down at it, feeling his stomach churn uncomfortably. Did Kalista always feel this way when she was paid to make a kill? It didnā€™t rest well with him. I feel like a mercenary. He swallowed the lump in his throat painfully. ā€œPut it in the guest roomā€™s safe for the evening, just in case,ā€ Jonathon added. ā€œAnd take the alternative way out.ā€

Kole bit his tongue and settled the envelope of cash into his inner jacket pocket. He looked up at Jonathon in the eyes, seeing that he was beyond their meeting then. His father opened the door and moved him through with nothing but a flick of his eyes. Kole paused as he stepped through. ā€œI miss you,ā€ he noted solemnly. Rarely was he so soft, but his father was someone he felt like he needed right now. The stress of the evening had Jonathon withdrawn and he didnā€™t like feeling so distanced from everyone he cared about. He watched Jonathon cross the room, ordering Nate to ensure that Kole was absent by the time he returned before exiting to speak with Victoria. No sooner had the crime boss departed for the main lobby of the mansion then did Nate step forward, gesturing for Kole to get a move on without so much as a word. Kole bit on his tongue as he slid through the secret hallway, emerging behind a discrete doorway within Victoriaā€™s walk-in closet. He stepped into the coupleā€™s elegant master suite, noting the strewn and wet gown on the floor. He frowned then, before proceeding to his former bedroom directly not wanting to linger in his parentsā€™ private space.

His former bedroom felt sterile when he stepped inside. The furniture was the same, but any of his personal affects had been removed and the walls had been repainted a more neutral tone. It bothered him to feel like his family had almost moved on from him. It felt like overwhelming. Closing the door behind him, he moved to a familiar painting opposite of the desk he had used all through high school and college, a rendition of James Earle Fraserā€™s ā€œEnd of Trail.ā€ He had picked it himself with Victoria when she had unceremoniously dragged him to an art gallery one afternoon on business. He had felt connected with the native American depicted slumped over and worn out, his emaciated horse digging in its heels as if it was being pushed over a precipice. By what many asked? Civilization? Colonists? The determination of that horse had always drawn him to it. Kole liked to believe the Indian was ready to sit upright and engage in the hunt at any time. It made him feel like even at the end of a very hard fight, raw determination could be enough to push back. It was oddly motivating to see it again.

Gripping the frame, he pulled it off the wall to expose a small safe. He slid his thumb down a fingerprint scanner before inputting a six digit code. It read his combination and print, blinked twice and then unlocked. When he opened it, the safe was empty, making it a simple task to set the money inside, reset it, and hide it. He was glad to be done with the cash. It wasnā€™t like he needed it. Jonathon knew how uncomfortable he was in taking it. He had every mind to leave it there and ā€œforgetā€ it by accident. No sooner was it put away then did he leave the room.

Kole stepped into the hall, closing the door behind him lightly. He exhaled deeply then, smoothed his suit jacket, and then moved to the staircase. From the top of the lobby he gained a birdā€™s eye view of the guests. The hum of voices was quite audible and the crowd was thick as people proceeded from the mansionā€™s lobby to the dining hall and exhibit. Despite the din and clout of all the people, Kole was able to immediately spot both Victoria and Jonathon. His mother looked chique as always, while his father remained tense. Offside his three adoptive siblings conversed. He nodded towards them, not even caring if they saw him. He hurried himself down the steps then, finding himself nearly running into none other than Sienna Rose. He had only known her for an instant, with his arrival conflicting with her departure, but he knew her face and the sight of her surprised him. Kole watched her usher her way past him and he sent the woman a look over his shoulder as he approached Victoria. His mother lit up at the sight of him but no sooner was she looking at him then vehemently at his father. He had known things were tense but he was surprised by what he saw.





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Sienna had no chance to speak. Victoria inhaled and found herself drowning in the scent of Jonathonā€™s cologne once more. She closed her eyes, feeling his tension and sharing it. Her frustration with her husband re-emerged. Having seen him not twenty minutes before was no where near enough time for her to let the incident go. Victoria looked at him from the corner of her eye, listening to him clear his throat. She stepped away from him, not reaching out to hold his hand in the slightest like she normally would. His coldness was severe and she immediately disapproved of his demeanor. It was warranted for his business but not for his guests. Lydia received a cold greeting and Victoria stared at the floor while he leaned towards her.

ā€œI will be starting the meeting in a couple of minutes. Make sure everyoneā€™s busy, hm?ā€ he ordered. Victoria flared her nostrils and stepped away from him then, turning to look at him coldly with a severity she reserved for the moments when she was most frustrated with him. She moved to speak, but he beat her to it.

ā€œAh, and dear, would you please get thisā€¦ womanā€¦ out of my house before I do it myself? Do not tell him anything,ā€ Jonathon commanded sharply. ā€œNow you wait a damn minute,ā€ she hissed but that didnā€™t stop him. Her husband stepped forward and toward the curator and bitterly threatened the woman. Victoria wanted nothing than to grab his arm and to tear him away from the woman responsible for organizing her entire auction, for antagonizing someone she cared about. While she found herself in the middle of their quarrel, Sienna was first and foremost a friend. Whatever he said was enough to remove any trace of a smile Sienna had and Victoria felt her blood boil.

ā€œDon't bother,ā€ Sienna told Victoria bluntly and the family matriarch stepped back, offended for the brunette. ā€œI know my way out of here very well.ā€

ā€œSienna!ā€ Victoria called out, trying to reason with her, to get her attention and make her stay. The MET director marched two steps away however, meeting with Heidi and barking an order at her. The blond curtly took out her phone. Victoria was speechless, and she brought a hand to her hair as Sienna turned back to face her. ā€œDon't worry,ā€ Sienna explained. ā€œEverything is set up and ready to go. Once the Auction is finished with the Auctioneer and his team will deal with all the delivery and payment details. Have a Goodnight.ā€

ā€œWait please,ā€ Victoria begged, only to find her attention withdrawn. She turned to see Kole, walking into the fiasco. His presence only lightened her mood for a split second but his distraction had her turn away from the curator who then left without further notice. No sooner was that over then she turned to Jonathon, sticking a finger out into his chest and staring at him with a biting glare.

ā€œYou had no right to do that,ā€ Victoria snapped, unafraid to tell her husband off. Perhaps she was the only one who didnā€™t fear the stone cold look he was exuding at the moment. She hated him right then and there. ā€œI am not interfering with your business. Get out of mine. She is the MET curator. If she leaves, they all leave, and then this whole thing ends. I donā€™t care what she said.ā€

She wanted to cut at him, to show him how unhappy she was with this side of him. Victoria had never taken well to being bullied by him and tonight was no exception. ā€œYou have relegated me to this, now let me do my job,ā€ she demanded curtly, staring at him before she pushed past Kole as he approached them, turning over her shoulder momentarily to look at Lydia. "I'm sorry, I will talk to you in a minute." Walking forward, Victoria extended a hand to her adopted sonā€™s shoulder, lingering on it before she stormed past him and through the crowds after the MET director. She didnā€™t care if Jonathon called after her. She knew he wouldnā€™t apologize. She didnā€™t want him too because then it would be insincere. But he needed to know how upset she was.

Victoria marched through the throng, excusing her way through a dense group of people until she was able to push her way through the main entrance. The red head reached out to Sienna, who at that exact moment was answering a reporterā€™s question.

ā€œWonderful, of course!ā€ the brunette chimed, exasperation lacing her words. ā€œSienna!ā€ Victoria called out to her. ā€œSienna turn around, please. That was uncalled for. He knows it and he had no right to say so. Please come inside.ā€ It was not like her to beg and her tone was far from pleading and more so instructive. Still, she looked at Sienna with warm eyes, a look she reserved when she was desperate or dealing with her children. "It will serve him right to have you there."

The setting changes from Genovese Mansion to Manhattan, New York

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Victoria Genovese Character Portrait: Kole Marinos Character Portrait: Jonathon Genovese Character Portrait: Sienna Rose Character Portrait: Charlee Shaee Genovese Character Portrait: Nate Hagen
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#, as written by Korrye
Ugh

The setting changes from Manhattan, New York to Genovese Mansion

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Victoria Genovese Character Portrait: Kole Marinos Character Portrait: Jonathon Genovese Character Portrait: Sienna Rose Character Portrait: Charlee Shaee Genovese Character Portrait: Nate Hagen
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#, as written by Korrye
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Her husbands rebuttal to her snide remarks echoed in her ears as she pleaded with Sienna not to leave. ā€œVictoria, do not start a scene.ā€ Well damn right she was causing one then for the first time in years. Her collected and cool demeanor was absent as she fought to get a grip on a night that she felt she had no control over. ā€œAnd I had every right. I donā€™t give a fuck who she is; donā€™t you dare go against me on this,ā€ Jonathon had snapped. And I donā€™t fucking care about you ordering me around. I donā€™t bend to your will this way. I will not lose on two battles today. With that she had added the remark that it would serve her husband right for her to be there. She knew of Jonathonā€™s animosity towards the woman who had left Nate in a depressed spiral for months after her sudden departure from the city. Victoria had always remained quiet on the subject. Jonathon didnā€™t know just how sudden her own departure from her old life had been and moreover how hard it had been on her to uproot herself from the only thing she knew. But it had been for the better. She had hated so many aspects of that life in Wyoming. She could to a degree understand Siennaā€™s discomfort. It was no secret that she hated Jonathon. Victoria didnā€™t like her for that but they understood things about each other. Leaving. Being uncomfortable with the life one led. She desperately wanted to talk to the woman but it was clearly not in her control to force the woman to stay her. Jonathon had done his job of playing the pitbull too well.

Sienna responded to Victoria quickly, turning and putting a hand on her shoulder solemnly. Victoria felt the gesture was done out of pity. For some reason when she looked at the MET Director, she thought the woman was looking at her with a sorry look, like she was sorry to leave her there with the people inside. I am breaking Victoria thought to herself bitterly. She stiffened as a slew of reporters somehow pushed their cameras through the wrought iron gates to snap pictures. She turned her cheek away from Sienna as they stepped offside behind the valetā€™s podium.

"Victoria," Sienna sighed, commanding the red headā€™s attention. The family matriarch looked coldly towards Sienna, knowing that tone and knowing what it reflected, what her answer would be before she replied. ā€œI don't care nor did I come here to spite your husband and I don't want to cause trouble for you either. To be completely honest I didn't even want to come here tonight but it's my job and I'm a professional. Now that everything is taken care of I have no need to be here. Save yourself and me the trouble . . .ā€ Sienna reasoned with her. Victoria shook her head. ā€œNo, wait, that's not what I meant...ā€ she sputtered and she was about ready to offer her own rebuttle when Sienna began stepping down the wide staircase to the valet.

ā€œGoodbye Victoria," Sienna smiled weakly before turning to the driver who had her car waiting and Heidi who stood offside. Victoria felt stabbed. She couldnā€™t explain it. It was like Jonathon had thrown a knife into her back and now Nathanielā€™s former lover was twisting it cruelly. She was completely out of control as Sienna stepped into her car. It was at that point that a hand brushed over her bare left elbow, looping his arm into her own. Victoria blinked twice before looking to see that it was Lincoln, her eldest son.

ā€œLetā€™s get you inside mom, you might catch a cold,ā€ he prodded. Victoria inhaled suddenly, having held her breath all that time. It was staggered and painful to do. She was seething, so angry she wanted to scream. Now she was left to deal with people who hated her for an event that was a front for something far more important that she had been kicked out of it seemed ā€“ her husbandā€™s business. Jonathon had done so much for her. All she gave him was an effort to repay the debt of him saving her from her former life. She would die for her husband, go to prison for him, anything. He seemed to fear that now for the first time in their marriage. All of this had come out of her offer to deal with Theodore, to torture him, to make him suffer, to learn what he knew. If she was imprisoned for it, she had said she didnā€™t care. Jonathon had however, and heā€™d barred her from doing anything related to the boy, going so far as to arrange a client dinner with buys for the fashion house that she couldnā€™t get out of the night he had chosen to confront him and subsequently allowed him to fall off the balcony of their summer property into the river.

She hated this distance between them and even as her son linked arms with her, she was bitter and cold. Victoria squeezed his hand and leaned into him subtly. ā€œThank-you,ā€ she whispered gently, in a tone she reserved for her children. ā€œItā€™s nice to have you home,ā€ she added. She rarely saw Lincoln with his school hours at Cornell being what they were and how in and out they all were.

As they stepped back inside, Victoria didnā€™t know what to do. Her eyes scanned the crowds and she saw Dylan and Charlee standing with Lydia off to the side. For the most part all of their guests had been allowed into the gallery and auction room. Checking her watch, Victoria noted that it was just after 8 oā€™clock which meant that she had a speech to make. ā€œTime for the auction sweetheart,ā€ she told Linc. She withdraw her arm from her sons and moved to kiss his cheek gently. ā€œI look forward to catching up.ā€

With that she slid away, following her staff and finding Kole waiting beside one of the MET helpers assigned to inform people on any pieces that a guest had questions about.

ā€œKole, darling. Time to make our bit,ā€ she announced gently. Her adopted son took Lincolnā€™s former position, linking arms with her and walking into the dining hall which had been converted into a mock auction house. Guests had assembled and were chatting and drinking champagne with their numbered signs. As Victoria and Kole approached the front a waiter tapped a spoon to the side of a spare glass. By the time they reached a glass podium for the auctioneer the large crowd had fallen silent. Victoria stepped away to speak first, leaning forward to tap the microphone gently. Hearing it respond she smiled. It was time to put on a show. If she was now relegated to being a trophy wife she was going to be a damn good one.

* * *


ā€œOne million, four hundred and sixty four thousand dollars Mrs. Genovese, All raised for your charity. That was quite the speech and that was quite the auction,ā€ the auctioneer announced. Victoria smiled and leaned in to squeeze Kole who had remained at the front of the room with her for the entirety of the event. She was nothing but pleased.

ā€œI invite you all to eat dinner and to mingle for the rest of the evening,ā€ Victoria announced, smiling as the room erupted into applause and several guests moved to leave the dining room while a number approached her, shaking her hand and thanking her for holding the event. She wanted nothing but to talk with Jonathon then and she absently wondered if his meeting had concluded on time.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Victoria Genovese Character Portrait: Kole Marinos Character Portrait: Kalista Ross Character Portrait: Jonathon Genovese Character Portrait: Charlee Shaee Genovese Character Portrait: Dylan Genovese
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Kalista Ross

Kalista had slipped in and out of the meeting as she had planned: silent and unnoticed. She hadn't given too much of a crap about the raids. She was loyal, but if those loyalties were stretched far enough, they were sure to snap. Kalista was not about to go to prison for the Genovese family and, if it came down to it, she had people all over the place who were more than willing to get her a private jet out of New York, or perhaps, out of America.

Despite her indifference toward the situation, Kalista made sure to flick her eyes up to meet the bossā€™s as she left the meeting, wanting to see how he felt toward the situation. Kalista had been grinning throughout the meeting, loving the way that the boss twisted his words and made his own associates -some of whom had seen him do this a hundred times- believe his every word. Again.

In truth, Kalista had been trying to avoid the boss since he had sent her flying into a bookcase. She knew that as a former marine and a current assassin, she should not shy away from someone simply because he gave her a tap. It was a sign of weakness. However, it was not the fact that he had hit her because Kalista had always mused at getting into the boxing ring with the boss, but rather it was the fact that she could not fight back. Had she fought back and punched him square in the jaw like she had wanted to, there was no doubt that Mr. Genovese would have found a new assassin as quickly as he had found her. So instead, Kalista had made herself seem indifferent toward the situation and no one had noticed her dodging the boss. If anyone had, they were at least smart enough to avert Kalistaā€™s gaze.

As she scrutinized the boss, Kalista could see that he was on edge about something that wasn't the raids. Perhaps, she thought, it was the family. Kalista quickly stopped herself from musing on the subject. She knew better than to meddle in family matters, especially when it came to the Genovese family.

Kalista stepped quietly out of the library, her heels making small clicking noises on the tile. As she walked along the rail, she peered down into the crowd. Clusters of rich art snobs shuffled along the floor. One group spoke heatedly about the art ā€“which Kalista could see they knew nothing about- while another group had had one too many glasses of champagne and were laughing loudly about something or other. Kalista took a moment to chuckle at them before descending down the rest of the stairs.

Out of good manners and simply wanting to observe the various guests, Kalista decided that she would stay a while longer. Not really having many friends inside the business, Kalista reserved herself to walking through the throngs of people. In one mingling cluster, Kalista found herself pretending to be the young wife of a wealthy investor, while in another, Kalista had inherited millions from her fatherā€™s oil business. Kalista found herself sharing fake stories about her prosperity and while the group would laugh over her story, Kalista would be laughing at the fact that they had believed her.

As she hopped from group to group, Kalista made sure to keep an eye on the happenings with the business. She noticed the siblings standing to one end of the room, one seething Victoria Genovese being ushered back into the house by her son and then linking arms with her adoptive son, and a variety of other events going on. Kalista liked being in the business because it was one of the few things in life that always kept her guessing. The other associates, the family, and even the people she was assigned to kill were always interesting. As she thought of this, Kalista felt a bit of pride that she was no longer a freelance assassin and thief, but rather an ally to one of the most powerful families in the city. That not only gave Kalista recognition, it also gave her power within the world of thieves and hired guns.

The setting changes from Genovese Mansion to Manhattan, New York

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Victoria Genovese Character Portrait: Kole Marinos Character Portrait: Kalista Ross Character Portrait: Jonathon Genovese
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#, as written by Korrye
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Kole felt caught up in a whirlwind of family drama. For as much as he had missed his family, he had not anticipated a soap opera upon his return. He stiffly watched his adopted parents argue with each other. He knew things had been building between them but for Victoria and Jonathon to yell at each other in public was something else. It was unheard of. As his mother raced off Sienna Rose, Kole stepped toward Jonathon, biting his tongue, feeling like his own issues were an unnecessary addition to all that the man was dealing with. Shouldnā€™t have said anything, he thought to himself. But how could he not have? What was done was done. Kole kept his head bowed as his father walked away, eyes glued to his phone. Circling on his foot, he saw Victoria returning with Lincoln on his arm. Kole watched his brother wearily, knowing that they had never gotten along very well.

He turned then, and pushed his way through the crowds into the main dining hall turned gallery. The various pieces that had been donated to their cause were brilliantly displayed. Most were paintings through a handful of sculptures were scattered throughout. He was immediately out of his comfort zone. Despite how many times he had been dragged by Victoria to exhibitions and museums he had never quite grasped by someoneā€™s splashing of paint on a canvas could suddenly make something worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. Or millions if you were looking at the classical pieces. It made him shake his head and at that one of the MET personnel turned to look at him, about to ask him something when suddenly his adoptive mother returned, free of her son, and grabbing onto him quickly.

ā€œKole, darling. Time to make our bit,ā€ Victoria instructed, looping her arm through his and walking with him into the make-shift auction room. Kole swallowed, remaining quiet and scanning the faces of the crowd, all of which were more than willing to offer him penetrating gazes. ā€œDo they know what Iā€™ve done?ā€ he wondered, feeling his earlier anxiety return. When Victoria stepped away to take the podium he was content to stand behind her and offside while she introduced the story of how she had become involved with Homeward Bound, what it meant to her to ensure a better life for Kole who had been homeless and a runaway from foster care when he had been introduced to the family. Her speech neglected the details ā€“ making their meeting like a glorious union made with a social worker, and not the fact that he had been found starving and stealing from a restaurant dumpster that had belonged to the Genoveseā€™s. It painted over his destitution, a means to save face yes but also a lie that didnā€™t sit well with him. Then suddenly it was his turn to speak, and he knew it was important to look as good as the boy Victoria had painted him to be. Patted on the shoulder by his mother, he stepped up to the podium when she concluded and pulled out three index cards that he had scrawled some talking points on in his nearly illegible handwriting. Clearing his throat, the room fell silent and Kole looked out onto the waiting crowd and again their searing eyes.

ā€œMy name is Kole Marinos,ā€ he began. Sucking in his cheeks, he sighed, glancing over his points before realizing he wanted to say something else entirely. He gathered them up and flipped them underside before shifting, tilting his head and sorting through his chaotic mind. ā€œMany people donā€™t know this, but I grew up in Chicago. My father was a drug addict and loanshark. My mother was an exotic dancer, a pretty way of saying that she was a prostitute. Call them humble beginnings but I donā€™t. I know that my mother means well when she describes me as the son she always wanted, but I wasnā€™t. I was troubled. And if it wasnā€™t for them and Homeward Bound, I am pretty sure that I would be dead todayā€¦ā€

* * *


He couldnā€™t even focus on the success of the auction. As the auctioneer announced the grand total spent on art that evening, Kole was withdraw, his eyes glazed over. He didnā€™t see the people in front of him. Instead he smelt blood and gunshot residue, the burning of the pistol, the sound of the gun in his ears. Nothing could bring it out of his mind. As Victoria began to receive guests, he put a hand on her shoulder and stepped away, knowing she was mid conversation and would find him later. He had permission to spend the night and he intended to but for now, he was curious if the meeting was over. He knew that many people had killed within the organization, but he also knew that one did it more often than most. Kole was familiar with Kalista Ross. In fact, he had her number and had been told to forward her information if something was urgent. It should have been Kalista who took out Frank, but Kole had wanted to do it himself for some stupid reason. It wasnā€™t a mistake. You were protecting yourself and everyone here.

As he strode amongst the guests who now sipped cocktails and ate appetizers, he noticed the assassin talking amongst a flurry of upper east siders. Dressed in red, she was hard to miss, especially given the fact that her dress was cut to reveal her legs in the front. Kole swallowed and stepped up behind her, finding himself quickly amused by her lies.

ā€œNow darling,ā€ he hushed her, putting a hand on her shoulder and feeling the lie slide off his tongue, just as his sincerity in the auction room had. ā€œCan we speak?ā€ he asked gently, looking across at a pair of theatrical looking rich socialites. The man in the couple looked unimpressed with him. ā€œKole Marinos,ā€ he introduced himself, sticking his hand out to the man. ā€œWithout donations from the likes of you, my kind would be dead. But Iā€™m sure youā€™d prefer it that way right?ā€ His snarkiness caught them off guard, but he couldnā€™t help but be bitter. The front melted away the moment the couple stepped back and Kole looked down at Kalista. As a waiter passed by he grabbed a glass of whiskey and a glass of red wine.

ā€œIn all seriousness though, can we talk? Somewhere private might be better.ā€

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Character Portrait: Kole Marinos Character Portrait: Kalista Ross
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Kalista Ross

Kalista was in the middle of telling a rich couple about her and her husband's Safari trip to Africa when she felt a man's hand on her shoulder. It took every ounce of Kalista's self control to deny her instinct to turn and punch the man attached to the hand. However, as Kalista turned to see who it was, she was glad that she had kept herself in check.

Kalista felt both angry with Kole for interrupting her conversation and amused with his snark. She chuckled and placed a hand on his chest lovingly. "Honey, I was just telling them about our marvelous Safari trip," Kalista said with a smile over at the couple. She chuckled as if there was some untold inside joke between the four of them; however, the couple still grumbled about Kole's bitterness as they backed off.

Once they were out of earshot, Kalista turned toward Kole and looked at him as he grabbed a glass of wine and a glass of whiskey from the passing waitress. Kalista gave him a mischievous smile and looked up at him with a shrug. "C'mon, I was having fun," Kalista said in her normal, playful tone. She had known Kole for quite some time. He was around the same age as her and they had gotten along. Despite the fact that Kole was nearly a member of the Genovese family, Kalista felt more comfortable around him than she did around the family members. She worked for the family, but she was not buddy-buddy with any of the family members. However, since Kole was technically not related to them, Kalista felt that she did not have to be as formal with him.

ā€œIn all seriousness though, can we talk? Somewhere private might be better.ā€

Kalista's playful smile fell as she saw the seriousness on Kole's face and heard it in his voice. His featured showed something more than just seriousness. The man was carrying a weight on his shoulders. It reminded Kalista of the look she had seen in the forces when a new recruit made their first kill. Kalista tried not to make it obvious that she could see his true emotions that were playing inside his mind. Often times, her ability to understand and tell a person's emotions made people wary of Kalista. Quite frankly, it freaked some people out. Instead of call his emotions out on the spot, she hid her knowing look from Kole.

Kalista sighed deeply and nodded to the man. "You know this house better than I do. Lead the way." She made a sweeping gesture as she spoke, signalling for him to show her to 'somewhere private'. In truth, she knew the house inside and out like the back of her hand. It had seemed important when she was first recruited to work for the Genovese. However, noticing Kole's unease, she knew that it was a good-hearted gesture to have him choose a place for them to talk.

Kalista looked up at Kole and discretely looked over his features. He was definitely carrying some burden and she knew that that was what he had wanted to talk to her about. It was clearly not a friendly conversation he was looking for. Kalista sighed once more and hooked an arm through his as she waited for him to lead her to a more private part of the mansion.

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Character Portrait: Kole Marinos Character Portrait: Kalista Ross
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It was so easy to forget that the woman in front of him, so casually embodying the role of an upper east side socialite, was only two years older than him. It wasnā€™t often that Kole got to see Kalista. The woman was always in and out of the mansion when he had lived there. They had exchanged passing glances a dozen times before he finally asked Jonathon who she was, why she was so important, why she always was there and then gone. He was sixteen when he learned that Jonathon had a contract killer on his payroll. When Kalista had come into Jonahā€™s service a few years back, Kole had been curious about her. Never had a woman been the hired gun. She had the look of a bond girl and a cunning sly fox charm about her that drew him in. Victoria had always turned him in the other direction, arguing that he was not to talk to her beyond common courtesy. It was obvious that his adoptive mother didnā€™t like the woman. Talking to her when he could was the one form of rebellion he had against Victoria. It was enthralling to stand there, to watch her turn around and mischievously smile at him. Kole stared at her fingers as they danced across his chest, toying with the collar of his suit jacket before patting it. He smiled wryly before telling off the couple she had been talking to.

The older pair were barely ten feet away when she whirled back towards him. He held his claimed drinks, offering her the wine as she grinned at him. How could she manage to smile like that when what she did for a living was soā€¦heavy? he wondered. He intended to find out and as she admitted to her lies and wanting to have fun he shrugged, asking her to speak with him in private. He saw her smile disappear in a split second. The playful smiles disappeared and Kalista moved from being as carefree as Charlee to the serious attentive woman that she had to be on the job. He looked away from her when she cast him an analytical gaze.

When she sighed, he tensed. Looking back at her, Kole felt like he was standing on a bed of pins. Then she nodded and he exhaled. He took the glass of whiskey to his lips and downed half of it in one go. The liquor was smooth, burning and bringing him back to full awareness. As a waiter walked by he put the remainder of the glass on the tray and let it go, knowing he would be in trouble if he finished it.

"You know this house better than I do. Lead the way,ā€ she offered, allowing her hand to cut through the air in a sweeping motion. A killerā€™s arm,ā€ he reminded himself. And yet she still looks dainty.

ā€œYouā€™ve been here enough times to know it through and through,ā€ he countered, raising an eyebrow at her comment before extending his elbow for her to take as his mother had hours before. Kole turned and the crowds behind them parted as he began to walk authoritatively towards the back kitchen. He didnā€™t want to take the main staircase and risk being seen heading upstairs with the woman. The socialites would be scandalized and worse his parents would be demanding. He didnā€™t feel like weighing down the Genoveses with any more of his issues. Instead he stepped into the kitchen where the chefs team were preparing desserts. He slid his suit jacket off then and tucked it around her shoulders before opening a set of doors heading out onto the back terrace of the house ā€“ the very same place he had spoken with Nate initially.

ā€œItā€™s cold,ā€ he muttered, trying to be chivalrous but knowing she had braved far worse than a few degrees below zero. He took her hand again as they stepped outside and proceeded across the patio, beyond the wicker furniture, to a pool house at the back of the property. The walk took no more than two minutes but as they removed themselves from the auction, they were accompanied only by the noise of the city and the idle chirping of stray crickets.

When he approached the door, he knelt in a garden next to it and picked up a fake rock, sliding off the back to collect a key that he could use to unlock the door. As he opened it, it held it for her and gestured her into what was more of a guesthouse than a storeroom for pool related toys and chemicals. He had been permitted to stay in it when he had initially moved in with the Genoveses. Victoria hadnā€™t been one hundred percent comfortable with him being in the house at first. The sofa had doubled as a futon. He stepped forward and turned on only one lamp before sitting on the couch opposite her and sighing.

ā€œI know you can see it,ā€ he began, looking at her with a tilt of his head. ā€œI had to kill a man for Jonathon yesterday. He was ready to blow my cover.ā€ The explanation rolled off his tongue so easily now that it was the third time he was telling someone. Kalista knew that Kole was Jonathonā€™s inside man within the joint task force assigned to take him down. ā€œIt was time sensitive. I would have forwarded the information to you but it just seemed quicker to do it by myself, to find out what he knew.ā€

Kole paused, his brow creasing as he fought away the images from his mind again. He wanted to be present, in the room with Kalista and not in his head and back in that moment. ā€œI shot him. I watched him die. Itā€™s not the first time Iā€™ve seen a dead body. My father died in my arms. But I canā€™t stop seeing it. I close my eyes, heā€™s there. I become distracted. Heā€™s there. How do you do it? How do you deal withā€¦killing people?ā€

It was such a blunt question. When it was out there he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and his chin balanced in his hands.

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Character Portrait: Victoria Genovese Character Portrait: Kole Marinos Character Portrait: Kalista Ross Character Portrait: Dylan Genovese Character Portrait: Lincoln Genovese
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Hearing her mother exhale, as if taking her very first breath made Lincoln curse in his head. Whatever happened between his mother and his father is all Dr. Roseā€™s fault. As he ushered his mother inside, he felt her mother lean against him. That subtle gesture made him worry. His mother was the epitome of a self empowered woman. Strong and independent. Yet warm and nurturing. Victoria Genovese got balls. Just about the only person who would go head to head with his father.

ā€œI look forward to catching up.ā€

He just smiled. Heā€™s pretty sure thatā€™s code for Lincoln-Genovese-Are-you-dating-another-Airhead/Scatterbrained-Model? He made a mental note to evade that topic. He let her go, then he added ā€œYouā€™re gonna be ok, right?ā€

He went to the bar and asked for his Second favourite poison: scotch on the rocks. He thanked the bartender and walked away with his drink. Tilting the glass and hearing the ice clink got him to contemplating. Funny heā€™s never been a Beer-kinda guy. Heā€™d discovered that early in life. It was his high school senior year and he was invited to a party. One thing led to another and next thing he knew, he was playing beer pong and losing fabulously. He threw up his innards 30 minutes after. Later on, he discovered that he favoured hard drinks. It would seem like his Genovese genes hardwired him to only go for the best.

The auction ended and people were filing to the dining room. He saw his mother going for the bathroom and Kole talking to the beautiful Miss Kalista Ross. The couple disappeared to the gardens. Well what dā€™ya know ? His boy got game. He grinned at that. His cell beeped. He ignored it. Itā€™s probably Candy asking him where he was.

He walked to the dining table and seated himself next to Dylan. His brother was putting on a very convincing show of smiling and making small talk. However, he could see right through the facade. And being the big brother that he was, he just couldnā€™t resist teasing him.

ā€œYour girlfriend replied yet?ā€ He asked casually.

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Character Portrait: Kole Marinos Character Portrait: Kalista Ross
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Kalista Ross

Kalista grinned at Koleā€™s comment on her frequent trips to the mansion. It was true that she knew the mansion backwards, sideways, and upside-down, but it was not unusual for her. Call it habit from scrutinizing blueprints and exit strategies in the military, but Kalista always made sure to know at very least the exits to any and every building she entered.

The pair walked arm-in-arm to the kitchen, away from the art coinsures and into the bustling world of chefs preparing elegant, dainty pastries. Kalista was caught up for a moment in the busy workers until Kole slung his jacket over her shoulders and brought her back down to earth. Truthfully, she did not need to the jacket. She could handle the biting cold. However, that did not mean that she wasnā€™t grateful for the added heat of Koleā€™s jacket; especially considering that her dress did not offer much in terms of warmth. As they stepped out and a sudden chill hit Kalista, she nodded a thank you to Kole and offered him a gracious smile along with a small, undetectable shiver.

Once she had gotten used to the persistent wintry breeze, their stroll to the guesthouse was quite lovely to Kalista. It was peaceful and serene despite the constant buzz of Manhattan. Rather than being lit by stars, the sky was lit by the bright city lights. To some it seemed strange and repulsing that humans could block out the stars like that, but to Kalista it was aw-inspiring.

As they stepped inside the small room, Kalista was glad that Kole decided to be a gentleman and not take his jacket back from around her shoulders. Although the room protected them from the wind outside, it clearly was not heated, or had not been in a very long time. Kalista sat down across from Kole and crossed her legs. Her dress slipped slightly and nearly revealed her concealed pistol, but she quickly wrapped the dress back around her leg as to keep the gun out of sight. Everyone within the Genovese family was sure to know that she had a weapon on her at nearly every moment, but Kalista made sure that no one saw them unless she was using it against them.

As Kole began to explain the situation to her, Kalista gazed at him with understanding eyes. There had been a time when Kalista had been in the very same position as Kole. Even more so than before, he reminded her of the new recruits from overseas. Although Kole was less disheveled and boyish than the rookies Kalista had sometimes been forced to work with, he still had the same look on his face. A look that contain a mixture of anger, confusion, and something close to fear.

Kalista knew it was coming before the words came out of his mouth. She knew that he was bound to ask the one question that she had been asked by so many of the younger team members in combat. ā€œHow do you do it? How do you deal with killing people?ā€ If she had seen it coming from so far away, then why did it still surprise her when the words were finally uttered? Perhaps it was because it was the first time someone had asked her since the war. Perhaps it was because she had seen men ruined by the fact that they had killed a human being. And she didnā€™t want that to happen to Kole. Whatever the case, Kalista did a mental double-take but kept her features immaculate.

With a heavy sigh, Kalista leaned forward as well, balancing one elbow on her crossed legs. No matter how many times she was asked this question, answering it never got any easier. She looked down at her hands and gave a dry chuckle, masking the pain she felt as she tried to speak over the lump in her throat. ā€œI canā€™t tell you how many times I had people ask me that same question overseas.ā€ Kalista blinked rapidly and then finally looked up, her piercing deep blue eyes peering at Kole with a determined look. ā€œEveryone always seems to think that the way to cope is to just forget that it ever happened and thereā€™s no doubt that someone will tell you to just push it out of your mind.ā€ Kalista paused both to let that sink in and to gather her own thoughts before she spoke again. ā€œBut itā€™s exactly the opposite. Not only is it harder to forget, but it doesnā€™t help. Forgetting only makes it harder when the thoughts rear their ugly heads back in. I can see that look on your face and I know that youā€™re trying to push the memories out of your head. I donā€™t know your reason for pushing the thoughts away because everyone has a different reason but I do know that itā€™s not good for you. It happened and no matter how hard you try, thereā€™s no denying it. So, I donā€™t care whether you killed one or a dozen men; just remember them. If you donā€™t remember them -if you dehumanize them, pretend they never existed, or pretend that you werenā€™t the one that killed them- not only are you an idiot for lying to yourself, youā€™re also a coward for not coping with it. You remember that man, Kole, but donā€™t let him get into your head.ā€

As Kalista ended her rant, she looked at Koleā€™s face and suddenly flashed back to her first kill. It had been at close range. An ā€œintimate killā€ as many psychology books called it. It had only been her third week in combat when a small group of enemies had found their way into her camp. She was woken by the echoes of gunshots and the heavy stomping of boots. Much like in training, Kalista had put on her gear, grabbed her multiple firearms, and was about to head out the door. However, just as she was going for the door, it came right off its hinges and the world slowed. It all happened within a matter of seconds, but it felt like several minutes for Kalista. All at once, she saw the enemy turn toward her, she heard nothing but the sound of her own heartbeat, and she felt her own hand raising the gun to aim at the man in the doorway. Then it was over. She had done it without even thinking. The man was down with a hole in his chest. Only after everything had calmed down did Kalista have time to think about what she had done. She had killed someone. And she felt like an absolutely horrible person. Afterwards, Kalista had been depressed and had even considered suicide. But she had kept going. She remembered it and kept on going, and she was still going to this day because she remembered it all. In some strange way, it was like losing a loved one. There was no point in trying to forget about the person or their death. Remembering them is the best way to cope. If you tried to forget it, the emotions eventually become too much and you lose your head.

As Kalista suddenly snapped back to reality, she found she was still looking at Koleā€™s features and it was all so real. Kalista leaned forward even further and put a hand on each of Koleā€™s cheeks. If he had not been listening before, she made sure that he was now. She straightened his gaze and forced him to look her in the eye. ā€œListen to me Kole. I have seen too many good men go and drink themselves to death because they believed they werenā€™t good people. You are a good man. Itā€™s always hard to remember that you killed another man. But that doesn't make you a horrible human being. You remember what you did, but you donā€™t let this get to you and you do not let this define you. You hear me?ā€œ

Kalista did not drop her hands and she did not drop her gaze until he answered her in order to make her point absolutely clear. If Kole was a bad person for killing one man, what did that make Kalista?

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Kole watched Kalista carefully, continuing to rest his chin in his hands. He felt the gravity of his question strike him. He had always known when he was younger that he would undeniably kill a person in his lifetime. He had expected for it to happen sooner if he was being honest with himself. The string of crimes he had committed when he was younger was heinous, more than enough for most kids to land themselves in juvenile detention for years. Then when he had found out the true nature of the Genovese family business he had known again that it would happen. Yet when it had, he had still shocked himself, so much so that he sat there in front of an assassin jumpy and with twitching fingers. His body seemed repulsed by himself and he could only explain it by his actions. Killing was wrong. Justifying it as he tried to didnā€™t seem to work. There seemed to be no exception in his head now. But there he was, a member of a joint task force. Even his own unit was surprised that he didnā€™t have a death over his head yet. Now he did though. He just couldnā€™t handle it. It was gnawing at him painfully.

ā€œI canā€™t tell you how many times I had people ask me that same question overseas,ā€ Kalista replied, at first looking away from him. Kole couldnā€™t tell if his question perturbed her or not but she did seem slightly less comfortable by it. He inhaled when he stared at him directly, the soft happy go lucky quality of her gaze gone entirely. The assassin in her was wholeheartedly staring at him and he knew he was afraid, he just didnā€™t want to admit it to himself or her.

ā€œEveryone always seems to think that the way to cope is to just forget that it ever happened and thereā€™s no doubt that someone will tell you to just push it out of your mind,ā€ Kalista explained, taking a moment to pause. Kole ran his tongue over his lips and nodded at her. It was the only thing his body seemed to want to do, rejecting what he had done. He could say that he had killed someone and yet at moments it didnā€™t feel like he had done anything. But the secret, the lack of owning up to it to himself, to what he had done, was there and burning his heart from the inside out. It was straining and vicious. He had someoneā€™s life on his hands, a man he didnā€™t even know but it was still a man whose face was in his head every second of every minute of every hour of every day now. Twenty four hours after and it was getting worse, not better.

ā€œBut itā€™s exactly the opposite. Not only is it harder to forget, but it doesnā€™t help. Forgetting only makes it harder when the thoughts rear their ugly heads back in,ā€ Kalista continued. Her words caught his attention then and he looked back at her, finding himself caught in the ferocity of his eyes, knowing his own were watery and bloodshot. He shifted his hands then to fists, feeling the tension as momentarily stress relieving. ā€œI can see that look on your face and I know that youā€™re trying to push the memories out of your head. I donā€™t know your reason for pushing the thoughts away because everyone has a different reason but I do know that itā€™s not good for you. It happened and no matter how hard you try, thereā€™s no denying it. So, I donā€™t care whether you killed one or a dozen men; just remember them. If you donā€™t remember them -if you dehumanize them, pretend they never existed, or pretend that you werenā€™t the one that killed them- not only are you an idiot for lying to yourself, youā€™re also a coward for not coping with it. You remember that man, Kole, but donā€™t let him get into your head.ā€

When she concluded, he found himself nodding all the way through, rocking back and forth in his seat. But when she finished Kole shook his head, turning his left cheek to her and staring across the room at the white floors and walls. When he blinked, the walls were covered in blood spray, the noise of a gunshot rang through his ears and he winced. Frank Karparthyā€™s face was there in his head, stuttering and bumbling and dropping his folders of paperwork.

Kole jerked when Kalistaā€™s cold hands touched his face. He pulled back and his hands immediately went to hers. He blinked twice as he focused back on her features and then he slackened, breathing deeply through his nose. Allowing his hands to slide off hers and back to his thighs with a slap, he sighed and then leaned back towards her. It was all momentary reflex, so fast to the average person, but he didnā€™t doubt that her attentive gaze caught it all.

ā€œListen to me Kole. I have seen too many good men go and drink themselves to death because they believed they werenā€™t good people. You are a good man. Itā€™s always hard to remember that you killed another man. But that doesn't make you a horrible human being. You remember what you did, but you donā€™t let this get to you and you do not let this define you. You hear me?ā€ she asked him defiantly. He stared back at her for a moment, silent and staring at her, trying to not look as broken as he was feeling.

ā€œHow are you older than me?ā€ he asked then. ā€œSo much wiser. Still as pretty as the day you walked in here.ā€

His words were meant as a distraction to himself but it didnā€™t work. Kole sighed then, nodding as best he could with his head in her hands, biting his tongue. ā€œI hear you,ā€ he admitted then. ā€œJonathon told me the same thing, to live with it, absorb it, and to not just reject it. I grew up in as immoral a household as one can get. My mother was a whore. My father had people killed over petty debts. I was abused. I was starved. I was a criminal at ten years old. Yet after my parents were killed and I got into so much trouble, I was sent to my grandfathers upstate, my motherā€™s father. He was a hard ass Russian immigrant but he taught me thingsā€¦morals, valuesā€¦things that have stayed with me. And now theyā€™re making my mind twist in circles over what Iā€™ve done and for what? Two values I hold so dear ā€“ to protect those close to me at all costs and to never kill ā€“ theyā€™re irreconcilable to me now. And I canā€™t wrap my head around it. And I know this is only the first time of what will be more in the future. A sad thing to admit. I am trained for it all ā€“ not quite like you. But enough that for me to be lethal is easier than most. Except this thing in my head, this belief. I have never believed in God Kalista, never, and yet I feel like Iā€™m sinning and I canā€™t explain it. Iā€™m angry with myself and yet Iā€™m proud. I donā€™t know what to do.ā€

He sighed then, his own tirade over, his eyes narrowing as he pulled back from her to sit back on the couch, reclining into the cushions and throwing his arms back. ā€œI understand know why soldiers have a tendency to drown themselves in liquor and women,ā€ he scoffed at himself. ā€œIā€™m sorry if this is heavy. I never intended to dump all of this on you now. I donā€™t talk to people like this. Ever. But youā€™re you. You just seem like the type of person to understand. And Iā€™ve always admired you and itā€™s not like youā€™re always around to bother me about this.ā€ At that he concluded, feeling like he had said too much. He didnā€™t know what she would say then and that in and of itself was intimidating. Does she think Iā€™m some immature baby whoā€™s never seen anything?

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Kalista Ross

Kalista could not help the small grin as Kole commented quietly on her wisdom. Kalista did not feel wise in the least, but she appreciated Koleā€™s compliment. Kalista wished that Kole could meet some of the people that trained her. Then heā€™d see real wisdom. Theyā€™d probably be able to console him better than she could.

Kalista slowly lowered her hands from Koleā€™s face as he began to talk about his family life. The fact that Kole was ranting to her about his past was both uncomfortable and pleasant. Since coming back from combat, Kalista hadnā€™t had many people who felt comfortable enough around her to open up like Kole was doing. This in itself made Kalista uncomfortable, but gratified by the fact that he felt comfortable enough to talk to her, even if he was talking to her about murdering someone.

When Kole had finished speaking, for the first time in years, Kalista found herself remembering her own family. She had never truly spoken to anyone about them and she did not plan to talk to anyone in the future. Some people who had been around long enough knew a bit about her family by virtue of the fact that Kalistaā€™s father had been a drug trafficker for the old crime boss. However, not many people who were still alive ever knew her feelings on her family. Kalistaā€™s father was the one who initially taught her everything from how to pick a lock to how to shoot a rifle. So by all means Kalista had not been brought up in a moral house either. However, her parents loved Kalista and her sister and had always attempted to keep the crime out of their home. They had not been the most ethical family, but they worked well together and everyone had put in at least a little effort to keep them a family.

Occasionally when Kalista would drink one too many, she would find herself thinking about what her parents might think if they saw her now. What would they think if they saw their happy-go-lucky Kalista as a big, bad assassin? Would they blame themselves? Maybe theyā€™d blame their murderer. And what about Kalistaā€™s nephew? It seems that after his mother -Kalistaā€™s sister- died, he too had taken a turn for the worst. Now he was a drug lord who didnā€™t even know his aunt and was threatening the most powerful crime family in the city. Kalista sighed lightly as these thoughts came down on her, but shook them off and looked back at Kole, giving him her full attention.

Kalista sat back slightly on the chair, mimicking Kole, but kept her legs crossed and her arms laying lazily on one armrest. ā€œI understand know why soldiers have a tendency to drown themselves in liquor and women.ā€ Kalista couldnā€™t help but stiffen somewhat at the comment. Kole didnā€™t know that when she had made that exact comment, she had been talking about herself. After coming back, Kalsita had drowned herself in alcohol, drugs, sex, anything to take her mind off the emotional trauma. She had gone against everything that she had just told Kole. The only person that knew about that chunk of her life was the boss and that was only because he had hired her when she was still in that state.

Kalista silently swallowed the lump in her throat as Kole continued speaking. ā€œIā€™m sorry if this is heavy. I never intended to dump all of this on you now. I donā€™t talk to people like this. Ever. But youā€™re you. You just seem like the type of person to understand. And Iā€™ve always admired you and itā€™s not like youā€™re always around to bother me about this.ā€ Kalista snorted at this and gave Kole a saddened, warm smile which she never gave to anyone. It was slightly unnerving to Kalista that she would ever be able to smile like that to someone who was connected so closely with the boss. By all means, Kole was an acquaintance, but he was not someone whom Kalista should be giving warm, friendly smiles to. Kalista blinked twice to stop her musing on the subject. There was no reason for her to get caught up on the subject. It was just a smile.

Kalista shook her head slightly, one long curl bouncing in her face. She pushed it away aimlessly. ā€œIā€™m not exactly the greatest role model.ā€ Kalista said it with a playful smile, joking once again about the fact that she was only two years older than him, but there was a hint of seriousness in her voice. She didnā€™t want anyone to see her in that light. A lying, thieving assassin was not someone you admired.

Kalista sighed for the umpteenth time that night, but it was quieter and less forced than the others had been. Suddenly feeling a chill, Kalista slowly sat up straighter and balled the edges of Koleā€™s jacket in her fists slightly. With a small smile still playing on her face, Kalista looked away from Kole so that her right cheek was facing him and continued speaking, ā€œBut thank you. I donā€™t get many people that actually talk to me.ā€ Kalistaā€™s smile turned to a sadder, sweeter smile as she turned back to Kole. ā€œAnd I do understand. I was in the same place as you once.ā€ Kalista cut the sentence off, making sure to convey the message to Kole that that was as far as she was willing to elaborate on her past.

A moment of silence passed before Kalista was serious once more, but not so intensely as she had been before. She looked at Kole, trying to convey as much truth in her eyes as she could. ā€œYou may think yourself weak for feeling like this, but youā€™re not. Being in this business is hard and youā€™re strong, Kole. Stronger than a lot of soldiers Iā€™ve seen. And thatā€™s saying something.ā€

Another moment of silence passed, but Kalista felt a weight had been dropped at what had passed between them. ā€œIā€™ve never believed in God either, but if there is a hell and youā€™re going there, I donā€™t wanna know where Iā€™m going.ā€ Kalista gave a soft snicker, trying to loosen at least a bit of the tension Kole was feeling. Kalista had been truthful about every word she had said to Kole and now all she could do was hope that he listened to anything she had said.

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Character Portrait: Kole Marinos Character Portrait: Kalista Ross
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ā€œIā€™m not exactly the greatest role model,ā€ Kalista smiled, shrugging at herself. Kole maintained a serious face however, knowing that he was being sincere ā€“ even if she didnā€™t want to accept it. ā€œIā€™d like to think youā€™re more honorable than most people in this business,ā€ he countered, watching her as she sighed and shifted, looking uncomfortable. Kole didnā€™t miss that she gathered up his suit jacket coat in her hands due to the cold. The heat was definitely off and were they spending more time there he would have offered to start a fire in the small fireplace across from them. In fact, he wanted to. Going back into the gala was not something he was looking forward to.

Kalista turned her cheek to him and Kole leaned forward again, watching her look at the wall to their left. ā€œBut thank you. I donā€™t get many people that actually talk to me. And I do understand. I was in the same place as you once,ā€ she concluded. Kole knew she wasnā€™t about to spill her guts to him and he respected that but it only made him more curious. What would Jonathon think if I asked about her? he wondered. He grew concerned as her smile faded momentarily. ā€œYou may think yourself weak for feeling like this, but youā€™re not. Being in this business is hard and youā€™re strong, Kole. Stronger than a lot of soldiers Iā€™ve seen. And thatā€™s saying something,ā€ she explained. Kole nodded but he still didnā€™t believe it, no more than Kalista was taking his comments. Still, the seriousness of her words struck him and Kole shifted, rubbing at the crown of his hair to pre-occupy himself. He didnā€™t have anything to say in return to that.

ā€œIā€™ve never believed in God either, but if there is a hell and youā€™re going there, I donā€™t wanna know where Iā€™m going,ā€ Kalista chuckled. Kole lost his serious face then and his frown turned into a smirk. ā€œI could kiss you right now,ā€ he admitted, shaking his head and feeling his desire to laugh grow, not at her but at their respective situations. He couldn't imagine the things she had seen and done, how many people she had killed. His comment was sarcastic, one signalling his appreciation more than his crush on her. He didn't want to make things more awkward.

Kole moved to stand then, knowing that he was feeling better ā€“ and better able to hide the war going on in his mind. ā€œNow, are we staying here? They keep the mini bar well stocked. Or are we going back into the jungle? To deal with the barbarians and socialites without lives who like to make themselves feel better by pretending to care about serious issues?ā€ the offer rolled off his tongue smoothly and he shifted his shirt then, undoing the cuffs so that his wrists were freer. To be honest the shirt itself was probably a size too small, the collar almost too tight which was why he preferred to keep it unbuttoned to a degree.

He wanted to go to the shooting range then, or a run through the park. Still, he knew he had an obligation to stay at the mansion overnight. Victoria wanted to speak with him. Jonathon still had to give him the small bit of information to appease his superiors. There was other business to discuss, including the new field guy. Kole had met him the day before and staring into the brutal eyes of Lucas Hitch had been his only sobering moment of the day. The thought of going back to the office was even more imposing on him though than going back into the mansion for the gala. Kole knew he was paling at his own thoughts when he turned back to Kalista, waiting for her reply, wondering again what she thought of him and what secrets she was keeping to herself. She had talked more than he had thought she would and more openly too. He appreciated what he had gotten nonetheless.

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Character Portrait: Kole Marinos Character Portrait: Kalista Ross
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Kalista Ross

Kalista smiled lightly to Kole as he smirked at her joke. She knew that her joke wouldnā€™t be enough to lighten his heart or his mind, but she was glad that his mind was momentarily preoccupied. Kalista wouldnā€™t admit it and neither would Kole, but the two were growing on each other. Kalista appreciated that Kole had come to her and she had hopes that he would listen to what she had said.

ā€I could kiss you right now.ā€ Kalista shook her head lightly as she let out another soft chuckle at his counter-sarcasm. She had, of course, been joking with Kole, but in some small way she had been serious. If Kole honestly believed that there was a hell, then Kalista had to be going somewhere far worse. If hell existed, there would be a special place in it for people like her.

Kole stood then and Kalista waited a few moments before standing up alongside him. She smoothed her dress out, pushed the thigh strap for her pistol up slightly so that it was once again out of sight, and smiled up at Kole mischievously. His offer to stay in the guesthouse was even more tempting as he spoke exactly what Kalista had thought of the rich socialites back in the house. She watched as Kole shifted in his shirt and moved to unbutton his cuffs. The slight tug of his shirt had been noticeable earlier as well as the unbuttoned collar of his shirt. Kalista only chanced an inconspicuous glance at him as he shifted. She had to admit that Kole was a well-built, handsome man. She had spent a good amount of time around the men of the household rather than the women for several reasons, and the few times she had spoken with Kole, Kalista had admired him. He was loyal and strong, yet not too strong. He had his weaknesses about him, and Kalista respected and admired that. Not to mention the fact that the man was very good-looking and gentlemanly.

Kalista considered Koleā€™s offer once more and then gave him another chortle. ā€œIn their defense,ā€ Kalista paused, giving the impression that she was actually about to defend the snobs back in the gala, but instead of defending them, she continued with, ā€œthey were pretty fun to mess with.ā€ They had been fun to fool, but that was no reason for Kalista to ever enjoy something so pretentious as this event. She had been born to lie in peopleā€™s faces and pretend to be someone she was not. However, she had gone to several of these high-class social events and they were always harder for her to fit in with. The fact of the matter was that these people always seemed easier to fool, but it was harder for Kalista to stay in the character of a wealthy, elegant woman. It was not how she had been raised and she disliked acting like the socialites she stood among.

Kalista gave a small shrug and continued speaking. ā€œBesides, Miss Genovese would most likely have me executed if I were to keep you out here all night. I believe that Iā€™m already on her list of possible murders.ā€ Kalista paused for a moment before realizing that her statement was a bit too heavy and added in a teasing voice, ā€œAnd I suppose itā€™s rightfully so.ā€ Kalista gave Kole a mockingly suggestive look and began to make her way to the door.

Kalista stopped at the doorway and turned to look at Kole. She knew that she was about to put a damper on the humorous air in the room. She did not want this to weigh down Kole, but she had forgotten to say on crucial thing to the man. ā€œLook Kole, I trust you that this was a time-sensitive situation, but if you can in the future, let me do it. Not only is it my job, but you work with cops every day.ā€ To make her point come across easier, Kalista added with a very small smirk, ā€œLetā€™s just say, itā€™s much harder for a hound to sniff out something miles away than something right in front of it.ā€ The comment was meant to be taken lightly, but it was a heavy subject. She knew that Kole would never purposefully put her in danger or pin a murder on her, but she was not prepared to let Kole, whom she was beginning to feel a friendship growing with, go down for something like this. Kole had his form of loyalty and this was Kalistaā€™s own form. Kole was able to kill people, as he had said before. However, the question was if he could cover his tracks well enough. Kalista was willing to kill someone who needed to be killed. There was no reason that Kole should have to do it too. If the law ever caught up with her, she would be able to get a private jet out of the country in a matter of minutes. She had no doubt that the Genovese were the same way, but she was not sure that Kole would be able to get to his adoptive family in time if the detectives came knocking at his door.

Kalista leaned slightly against the cold doorjamb and looked down at the thin tattooed armband just above her elbow. ā€œI donā€™t care if youā€™re lying to my face, but just promise me that youā€™ll let me do it whenever possible.ā€ Kalista sighed and furrowed her brow ever-so slightly, looking back up at Kole once more. ā€œPlease.ā€ Kalista had said the single word matter-of-factly, making it more of statement than it was a beg. Even from across the dim room, Kalista made sure to catch Koleā€™s gaze with her determined, bright blue eyes. Her gaze was not frightening or hard, but rather it was softer with a hint of pleading that she wasn't quite sure Kole could see. If they found out Kole was the mole within the police, he was screwed enough as it is. He didn't need the addition of multiple murders on his head. If they ever actually sent Kalista to prison for her murders, her thefts, or both, she was going for life. As bad as it sounded, a few extra would neither help nor hinder her sentence.

Despite the fact that Kalista had been about to leave the room on a joking note, she did not want Kole to think that she was not serious about this. Kalista wanted to be associates with Kole, but she also wanted him to know that in some odd, very Kalista-esque way, she cared about him as a friend. Kole would undoubtedly have to kill for Jonathon again, but Kalista was fully equipped to do her job and take the heat of the killing. She had been telling the truth when she had said that Kole was strong and not just physically; however, that did not mean that she was about to let him go to jail for doing a few times what she had done countless times.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Victoria Genovese Character Portrait: Kole Marinos Character Portrait: Jonathon Genovese Character Portrait: Anthony "Tony" Rizzo Character Portrait: Charlee Shaee Genovese Character Portrait: Lydia Arden
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Victoria didnā€™t need Jonathon to tell her that he needed him, especially after his physical displays of rapture. Finally. Still, it was consoling and she tucked her chin into her neck and nodded at his words, feeling his hands brush across the strong line of her jaw, lightly pressuring her to look back up into his face. It wasnā€™t often she saw this Jonathon, her Jonah. There was a glisten to his eyes and a subtle smooth quality to his motions that was far more fluid. He was at ease and not thinking of anything else but them. It made her exhale deeply. Holding her eyes closed again for a moment, she let herself drift into the recollections of several months ago, how right before Theodore had been found out to be such a filthy rat child, Jonahā€™s brother and Tony had sat her down and confessed that they believed him to be a cheater. Ever since the distance her husband had kept with her, since the incident, since the pressure from law enforcement had been ramped up, her mind had circled viciously back to the accusations. Victoria trusted his brother, she had trusted Tony. But now it seemedā€¦malicious. When she looked through low lids at her husband again, she knew it was a lie.

But then why say it? Why would his own brother tell her that he was cheating?

She asked about Anthony then. She knew that Jonathon would not let her in on that scene, no matter how much she wanted to violate the man, to make him feel the way she felt. Jonathon would not be as swift as he normally was and that justified her stepping aside. She didnā€™t want to look at the man either. Never again. He had looked so betrayed at her when sheā€™d run away and that stung. How could he have ever thoughtā€¦? her mind trailed. Jonah turned back to his own inquisition.

ā€œWhy?ā€ he asked her lowly, though his tone was not at all accusing. ā€œBecause your brother and him told me that you were cheating two months ago. The more I think over it, heā€™s been trying to turn me against you Jonah, and perhaps your sibling as well. He might have information about people trying to hurt us from within,ā€ she replied lowly, wincing as she thought about the second Genovese brother, currently out of the country and on business in France.

She had wanted to lighten the mood then, turning back to her comments about their rougher bouts of making up. That made him grin and Victoria felt her heart flutter at the sight of her husband so amused. He kissed her and she tried to hold it, but he stepped away to collect his pants and briefs, all hastily discarded at her feet.

ā€œYouā€™re right. You need a new dress though,ā€ Jonah commented. She snorted. ā€œYes well, itā€™s not like I have a short supply. Iā€™ll get one of the seamstressā€™ at the fashion house to fix it. Shouldnā€™t be that hard,ā€ she replied with a smirk, moving away from the wall to step out of the black silk and jersey, leaving herself in only her underwear for a moment before she stepped towards a small closet beside his desk, collecting a housecoat reserved for days when Jonah spent hours on end in his office without seeing visitors. Slipping it over her shoulders, she turned back to him, letting him hold her cheek in his hand. Victoria smiled, feeling her cheeks dimple as her lips were spread like a Cheshireā€™s grin.

ā€œItā€™s generally been too long,ā€ Jonah added. Victoria hummed her agreement, chuckling at he moved to kiss her on the nose. It was a gesture that took her back to when they had first started seeing each other and how playful his affection used to be. Before everything got serious and his father was shot and I was nearly killed and we had childrenā€¦ They had never had the phase like most newlyweds to simply be together without the mundane concerns of babies, family, and serious careers. Victoria had never thought she had needed it until the past few months.

ā€œIā€™ve missed itā€¦ Iā€™ve missed you. Missed us; you and I,ā€ Jonah confessed. ā€œThen quit shoving me out and making me force my way back in,ā€ Victoria teased him, raising an eyebrow as she moved to slide her hands along the sides of his bare and chiseled torso, allowing her thumbs to follow the ridges of his abdominal muscles before she pulled back and slid her fingers up so gently along his sides to tickle him ā€“ from hard to soft in a split second, the epitome of who and what she was.

ā€œI think itā€™s time to get these ridiculous people out of our home,ā€ she concluded, smiling so that her teeth showed.

* * *
Morning After the Gala


The morning light filtered through the curtains of their bedroom, slicing across the floor and onto the mattress, illuminating her frame and the wild splay of red hair behind her. The evening had been cut short for all intents and purposes. While the social aspect of the evening had been set to go into the early morning, Victoria had decided to call it a night early. Her staff had been informed as much and she had retired to her room early and a bath with soft music and lavender to try and relax her mind while Jonathon left with his associates to take care of the business that was Anthony. When sheā€™d gone to bed he still hadnā€™t been home and now as she rolled over, she wondered if he would be there. They had made up? She was due to have breakfast with Lydia, a quick text having confirmed that. Kole was also in the house still, having spent the night. He had plans to take Dylan and his dog to Central Park for the morning, a thought that made her smile. She missed having her adoptive son around to do those things for her, and with Dylan. He had still looked troubled however. She hadnā€™t had time to ask Jonathon why that was. For all that she smiled as she pulled herself from bed and moved to the wide and luxurious ensuite bathroom, her mind was wound up in concerns for her children ā€“ as it was most mornings given that she had essentially four children to worry about. Her husband would have a morning gym session undoubtedly and today she didnā€™t want to join him. Let him get out the aggression. Let him talk to Linc and Rome and the boys.

Getting herself ready was a quick routine. Victoria left her hair in a soft tumble of curls over her left shoulder, washed her face and put on fresh makeup before doning a yellow sleeveless shirt and dark skinny jeans. She would be doing errands later and wanted the mobility of pants for once. As she took the stairs to the kitchen to see to preparing breakfast for herself and her guest, the house was quiet. The extra staff were gone, with only two maids cleaning, and Pierre present. The security personnel were outside and out of sight. She didnā€™t like them in the house lately. They made her paranoid. Nate assured her they were to be trusted, all contracted former military personnel. Still, she didnā€™t like that she needed so many guards. The silence she welcomed instead, wanting nothing but a quiet breakfast with a close friend and perhaps the glimpse of her children or her husband before she had to leave for the fashion house and business management issues ā€“ things she was taking on in the interim until they had hired someone to replace Tony.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Victoria Genovese Character Portrait: Kole Marinos Character Portrait: Kalista Ross Character Portrait: Dylan Genovese Character Portrait: Jess Garcia
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Kole raised an eyebrow as Kalista moved to initially defend the people inside the mansion.

ā€œIn their defenseā€¦ they were pretty fun to mess with,ā€ she teased. Kole shook his head and ran a hand through his hand again, trying to settle. He moved to the doors and checked himself in the mirror then, dusting off the corner of his shirt. He wasnā€™t the vain type but it was a high end gala inside. There was a lot to consider when it came to appearances at a Genovese gala, especially when your face was the one being slapped on the charity cause of the hour.

ā€œBesides, Miss Genovese would most likely have me executed if I were to keep you out here all night. I believe that Iā€™m already on her list of possible murders,ā€ Kalista joked. Her last word made him tense. The lightheaded edge that he had momentarily gained melted away in an instant. Murderer. Murderer. Murderer. Kole winced. He couldnā€™t help it.

ā€œI suppose itā€™s rightfully so,ā€ she added. Kole looked at her and she flittered her eyes at him. ā€œVictoria is just territorial. You have a connection with Jonah that she lacks. Sheā€™s defensive. Iā€™ve never really understood why she feels about you the way she does but if you leave her be, she wonā€™t be breathing down your neck,ā€ Kole shrugged. As he moved to the door, the familyā€™s assassin followed him. He went to exit, only for Kalista to stop him, looking at him with again with her serious eyes. How does she do that? Changing back and forth like that from happy go lucky to cold killer?

ā€œLook Kole, I trust you that this was a time-sensitive situation, but if you can in the future, let me do it. Not only is it my job, but you work with cops every day,ā€ she reasoned with him. ā€œLetā€™s just say, itā€™s much harder for a hound to sniff out something miles away than something right in front of it.ā€

Kole held his tongue between his teeth for a moment, breathing slowly and turning to look away from her then. ā€œKalista I would have,ā€ he confessed with a heavy sigh. ā€œOnly I watched him leave the office and fast. He wouldnā€™t look at me. I got into his computer and figured out what he had found out. I didnā€™t have time to wait for you. Youā€™re good but, one call from him, a message left somewhereā€¦and I would be done.ā€

Kole watched her move to lean into the door frame, her elbow poised elegantly and displayed her toned arms and a tattoo he had failed to notice before. He searched her expression for some sort of acknowledgement of his words. She didnā€™t seem the type to want to know the explanation but he still felt that he needed to say it. So much had already been said.

ā€œI donā€™t care if youā€™re lying to my face, but just promise me that youā€™ll let me do it whenever possible,ā€ she sighed, looking up at him with determined eyes. He frowned and didnā€™t move to answer right away. ā€œPlease,ā€ she added. That made him snort and chuckle lightly. Kalista saying please was a complete oxymoron to him. And it wasnā€™t even a plea. She was saying the word just because. It was something he used to do when he was younger and his tone would earn him a cruel uppercut to the jaw from his father or a spanking from his mother. Or worst, a glare and lecture from his grandfather. Victoria and Jonathon had made that word finally have meaning in his life.

ā€œI will,ā€ he guaranteed her, his tone far more sincere than her own. It wasnā€™t a lie either because right then and there Kole doubted whether he could handle killing again. At least right then and there. ā€œBut only if you hang out with me more,ā€ he added then, tilting his chin up and raising his eyebrows with his bargain. ā€œI run in Central Park every morning. Would be nice to cross paths. Besides, you in yoga pantsā€¦?ā€ Kole let his eyebrows jump in a mocking gesture before he moved to open the door, holding it for her and motioning her to exit first. He looked over her head and back at the mansion, seeing the lights and music and crowds even from the yard.

"Back into the jungle,ā€ he thought to himself then grimly.

* * *


Spending the night in his old room had proved difficult. For all his discussions with Kalista, his mind still wouldnā€™t ease off when he tried to sleep. Kole had ended up drinking a lot of whiskey to get himself to relax. Even then heā€™d laid in bed and stared at the ceiling of his room for more hours than he had dozed off. When his alarm buzzed for 8am he was startled, feeling like he had only just managed to close his eyes before the bloody thing snarled at him and woke up him.

Groaning, Kole forced himself out of bed, feeling his arms and legs protest at the lack of rest. Shuffling in his boxers out of his room and into the hall, he leaned into his door frame to stretch, gripping the top of it with his arms and flexing his shoulder blades. He took in the hall for the moment. He could hear the shower running in his parents room. Lincolnā€™s door was closed as was Charleeā€™s. Dylanā€™s was closest to his and he knocked lightly on it. ā€œStill want to go to the park Dyl? Iā€™m heading out in 45 minutes to grab Duke,ā€ he informed him, unsure of whether or not his youngest brother heard him. Proceeding to the shower, he let it run ice cold before he stepped in. The only way to keep moving at this rate was to shock himself into awareness.

Still, as he let it rain down on him, he thought of Kalistaā€™s words again. Then there was Nate and Jonahā€™s practically congratulations and thankfulness in their own way. Still, all of them had told him the only way to live with what he had done was to accept it. How could it when it seemed like such a monstrous thing? He would have felt better if this Frank guy had been a perv or molester or murderer himself. He would have been a murderer, Kole reminded himself. He would have told everyone who and what I was and then Jonathon would have been implicatedā€¦he would have gone to jail. He would have been murdered there for sure for being the mole.

All of his thoughts built up in his mind like a pressure sensitive bomb. Kole stepped out and toweled himself off, focusing on his reflection in the mirror as he dragged a comb through his hair and brushed his teeth. Dressing himself in a pair of loose black track pants, a white t-shirt and grey long sleeve overtop ā€“ jeans were set aside for later. Moving beyond the bathroom he moved back into the hall, leaning against the wall and checking his watch before double checking his phone.

"I was serious about that running part," he texted Kalista, unsure of whether or not she would respond. He had no idea quite what she was doing. Maybe she was killing someone? The thought made him frown. "We could also spar or go to the range you know. Bet I could beat you," he added, before hitting send with a tap of his thumb.

ā€œCome on Dyl, 5 minutes. Meet me at the truck outside on the driveway if youā€™re coming,ā€ he reminded his brother before heading down the stairs. He smelt breakfast in the kitchen and knew immediately that it was Victoria who was at work. Nothing smelt quite like her waffles on a Saturday morning. Though in this case it was a Tuesday.

It took a lot for him to move straight for the door. Pierre was standing, polishing the silver door handles as he stepped by. "Master Marinos! Good morning. So nice to have you back," the butler greeted him. "Morning Pierre. I'm not out of here just yet. Going for a run and then I'll be back," Kole smiled, nodded at the man as he stepped out onto the drive. The valet had left his truck parked off to the side, the Toyota Tundra conveniently detailed and washed as well.

Flicking his keys around his finger, Kole stepped into the driver's seat and turned on the engine, flicking the heat on. The morning was brisk but for New York typical for early January. The snow that had fallen the night before was gone for the most part as they hovered around 10C. It was warm enough that he didn't need a jacket, but he had one in the backseat if that turned. As he waited for Dylan, he pulled his phone out again, sending a message to his staff coordinator.

"Out of the office today, still okay? Any paperwork or things to do if I catch a chance to Jess? - Kole" He wasn't sure if the woman would reply right away, though normally Jess was never away from her phone. She was one of the superiors in the task force and he respected her, feeling bad at points with how much his antics could stress her out.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Victoria Genovese Character Portrait: Kole Marinos Character Portrait: Jonathon Genovese Character Portrait: Dylan Genovese Character Portrait: Jess Garcia
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Her alarm started to beep. Jess groaned and rolled over to glare at it, stretching out a hand to slap it into silence. Her arm didn't appear to be long enough, and she stretched a little further, silently cursing the thing. She rolled over in hope of being a little closer to it- and promptly landed on the floor. The alarm continued to beep. She sat up, beginning to consider shooting the clock. She stood up and slapped it a few times, stopping the beeping. She stretched, running her fingers through her hair. It was still close to black. She headed for the shower in the hope that the dye would wash out.

In the shower, she took advantage of the peace to plan out her day. She had the press conference at nine, which could be nice and brief and take ten minutes, or take up to an hour if she had awkward journalists. Afterwards, she had a new agent to meet. Leonard DePesci. He was being implemented as a drug runner for the Genovese family. Jess sighed. She hoped to God that he was going to stick to their side. If he didn't, she would be nearly better off calling this operation a day and becoming an instructor in the gun range. She rinsed out the shampoo and was glad to see the water tainted brown- hopefully with hair dye.

She went to her closet and pulled out her ready-made, press conference outfit. She had prepared it late last night after coming in, having spent a few hours at the office preparing herself. There had been one awful, dreadful moment where she hadn't been able to find her flats or her trousers. She had been worried she was going to be forced to wear a skirt and heels- but she then found her shoes under her bed and her trousers hanging at the back of her closet. She pulled it on, keeping her hair wrapped in a towel to prevent water from dripping onto her shirt. She retrieved her hairdryer from it's spot where it hung at the end of her bed and went to her mirror. Her hair did appear to be back to it's normal colour, albeit a little darker.

When her hair was neatly styled, she checked herself in the mirror. Her skin seemed a little washed out from the late night. She put on a thin layer of foundation and a touch of mascara, just enough to make her seem more awake. She shoved her phone into her pocket and belted her gun belt around her waist. It was hidden by her jacket, but she could reveal it if she needed to. Her stomach growled and she smiled a little, heading out to the kitchen in search of food.

As she ate her ready-prepared breakfast of granola and yogurt, her phone vibrated in her pocket. She pulled it out and opened up the message.

Out of the office today, still okay? Any paperwork or things to do if I catch a chance to Jess? - Kole


One side of her mouth quirked up in a half-smile. Kole was a good agent, and she didn't mind when he asked for a day or so out of the office. She typed a reply.

Sure, still fine by me. I want to talk a few things with you, though. I'm in the office till three, then I've got softball. Swing by before then.


As much as she wanted to trust Kole, she couldn't. There was something... off about his relations with the Genovese. He got along with them almost too well. She shook her head and returned her phone to her pocket. She rinsed her bowl and put it into the dishwasher, before grabbing her keys and heading downstairs. She climbed into her car and took a few seconds to enjoy the silence and peace. She then headed for the madness that was her office.

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Dylan had stayed up way too late, working out the last few bugs in his robot. He'd usually be awake pretty early. He had barely woken up when Kole knocked on his door. "Still want to go to the park Dyl? Iā€™m heading out in 45 minutes to grab Duke." Dylan rolled over and groaned. He loved the park, he loved running, and he loved being out with Kole, but it just felt like it would require too much effort. There was one genuine moment where he considered dozing off again. But instead, he swung his feet out of bed and stood up, stretching and trying to wake himself up.

He turned to his closet, where he stared at it blankly for a moment or two. He really wasn't good in the mornings. Not before coffee. He pulled out a pair of black tracksuit bottoms, red hoodie and a white t-shirt. As he got dressed, he considered going back to bed or just staying inside. But something kept him moving- possibly Kole, knocking on his door and saying, "Come on Dyl, 5 minutes. Meet me at the truck outside on the driveway if youā€™re coming." As soon as he had his trainers laced up, he headed down to the kitchen. "Morning, Mom." He said, yawning as he entered. He started making himself coffee in a thermal mug. "I'm heading out with Kole- I'll grab breakfast when I get back, okay?" He kissed her on the cheek, zipping up his hoodie and heading out to Kole's truck, his coffee in tow. He took a mouthful as he climbed in. "Morning." He grinned at his foster brother.

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Jared stared wearily at the "Fasten Seatbelt" sign. He had been on this goddamn plane for six long hours, and it felt like they were keeping him on it for even longer as punishment for his sins. The minute it pinged off, he lifted the flap on his belt and jumped to his feet, shoving his tablet into it's case and slinging it across his body. He hauled his small case down from the overhead cabin. He had only brought the small carry-on case as he had only been spending the weekend in San Francisco. Preferably, he wouldn't have been spending any time there, but there had been a Stanford reunion on, and he'd had a little business to conduct in San Francisco anyway. The flight over had been bearable, almost comfortable. He had enjoyed meeting up with his old college friends and lecturers. He had dealt with the business and had even managed to do a little shopping. But the flight back had been hell on earth- or rather, above earth. The flight had been delayed on the tarmac. Then, almost exactly where they had gone down over the desert, they had hit bad turbulence. The poor flight attendant nearly had to knock him out to calm him down. Every time he had begun to relax a little, they had hit more turbulence. The result was a jumpy, irritated Jared Romaro.

He flew down the steps and headed for the terminal. He made it out of the airport in what must have been record time, not wasting time anywhere. He only really started to relax when he was in his car. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and turned it on. As he waited for it, he switched on the radio.

In half an hour, we'll have live coverage of the press conference with the FBI's Organised Crime Unit Liaison, Special Agent Jessica Garcia, speaking to us about the raid on an Upper East Manhattan restaurant-

He frowned and picked up his phone. It appeared to be ready to go. He texted Jonathon.

Back in Manhattan. Be around in a few- want to drop my stuff home first. Press conference with a Jessica Garcia being broadcast on radio in 30 mins- friend of yours?

-Jared


He turned on the engine and headed for his apartment. The journey felt like it passed in the blink of an eye compared to the never-ending flight. Before long, he pulled into the small carport beside his apartment building. He shut off his engine and headed inside. His apartment greeted him like an old friend. He had only been away for four days, but California felt like a different world. He much preferred New York's more temperate climate. He dumped his bag on his bed and decided to change his clothes. The clothes he was wearing was probably still clean, but he was willing to bet it stunk of airplanes. He changed into a white t-shirt and black combats. He had long stopped dressing formally to go around to the Genovese mansion. It just felt wrong- and it was sure made things a hell of a lot more complicated to spar. Before he went to the Genovese mansion, though, he wanted to eat. Airplane food was disgusting. He made himself a bowl of granola and perched on a stool to eat it, leaving his phone on the counter.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Victoria Genovese Character Portrait: Kole Marinos Character Portrait: Kalista Ross Character Portrait: Jonathon Genovese Character Portrait: Sienna Rose Character Portrait: Anthony "Tony" Rizzo
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#, as written by Mela
Jonah hadnā€™t been happy about leaving his wife, but he also knew he had Rizzo to take care of, and honestly heā€™d rather not keep the guy around for too long. Besides, Jonah knew heā€™d be tied up in the basement, alive, something he would be for a while yet. Currently, the Genovese patriarch was in said basement, pushing open the door, his cold eyes landing on Tony in but a second. ā€œRizzo,ā€ he said in greeting, a taunting, angry sound to it. Jonathon may have gotten rid of his tension and his anger with Vicky, but ah, Rizzo was a whole other thing, wasnā€™t he? Jonathon slowly crossed the room, bringing himself within touching distance of Rizzo. He glanced at the two men who had brought him here and gave them only a brief nod, his hands folded behind him.

He gave no reaction to Rizzoā€™s mumbling behind the gag in his mouth, as well as the frantic character of his eyes which were skirting around the room. Ah, but he would find no mercy here, and as Jonathon continuously watched Tony, his two men left, closing the door behind them. Only then did Jonah start folding up the sleeves of his black shirt, slowly, meticulously, watching the fear grow in the manā€™s eyes. Jonah didnā€™t much care for the fear; fear was not something he wanted from dead men. No, he wanted Rizzo in pain. He wanted him to suffer for what he had done ā€“ for violating his wife like that.

Once his sleeves were out of the way, Jonah removed Rizzoā€™s gag. The basement was soundproof for a reason. The man stayed quiet, however, so Jonah raised an eyebrow, casting the guy a cold smile as he took out a pair of thick, black gloves. Again, painfully slow, Jonathon donned the pair onto his strong fingers. ā€œFingerprints,ā€ he explained to Rizzo, not because he didnā€™t think the guy would know as much, but because he wanted it to be painfully obvious to Anthony Rizzo that his torturer would be Jonathon himself. Hm, painfully obvious was quite the term, wasnā€™t it?

The bastard had made a move on his wife, he had tried to turn her against him, and apparently his brother had been in on it. Which meant Jonathon needed information first of all. As such, Jonah flexed his fingers, looking from his hands to the man, or dog, in question. ā€œYou know what your problem is, Rizzo?ā€ He began, squatting down to be level with the tied up Rizzo, who merely glared at him. Just as well; Jonah hadnā€™t expected an answer, so he continued. ā€œItā€™s that youā€™ve long thought yourself indispensable.ā€ Jonah straightened then, moving to browse one of the many shelves. This one had a selection of knives heā€™d collected over the years. Just like guns, Jonah was in the habit of collecting knives. These, however, were always kept in the basement.

ā€œAnd you know what the problem with cocky staff is?ā€ He added, not looking at Rizzo as he concluded harshly: ā€œThey take liberties.ā€ Thatā€™s when a pair of grey eyes finally landed coolly on Rizzo, an eerily composed, wry smile on Jonahā€™s lips. Rizzoā€™s lips set into a thin line, so Jonah picked up a knife. A small one, with an ornately decorated handle. Then he began moving back towards Rizzo, whose defiance was quickly replaced by fear in his eyes. ā€œFrankly youā€™ve hit your limit,ā€ he noted as he walked, before stopping in front of him, adding ā€œbut I can make your death quick if you tell me what I want to know.ā€ Not that Jonah was particularly in the mood, but he did plan on keeping his word. Fact was, however, that he didnā€™t think heā€™d need to.

And just as heā€™d expected, Rizzo made a face and spat at Jonahā€™s feet, sneering ā€œwhat makes you better than me, huh?!ā€ Jonahā€™s only response was a knowing, satisfied smirk as he hammered his knife straight into Rizzoā€™s hand, impaling it along with the arm of the chair beneath it. The scream filling the basement was one of pure pain, but ahā€¦ the night was not yet over, and the screams would get much louder, just as the pain would get worse. Of course this was not for pleasure. Oh no, it was merely to extract information. Or, ratherā€¦ for the most part.




Once done, having gotten everything he wanted out of the whimpering remains of a man who was still in his chair by 4 am, Jonah merely gave him a cold look. ā€œVictoria says hi, by the way,ā€ he then added, throwing a last jab into the mix as he took a towel and began wiping off his bloody and sweaty face. He would have to take a shower. He was almost as bloody as Tony, and that really spoke volumes. The guy was close to dying from blood loss alone, and so his only reply was a pained groan.

Jonah, feeling rather satisfied with his revenge so far, took out his phone, speed dialing his dearest assassin. Once she picked up, Jonah spoke, his voice hard and commanding. ā€œKalista, I have a problem I need you to handle. In fact, let me rephrase that: you are handling it. Right now. I donā€™t care what youā€™re doing. I expect you to be on your way back to the mansion already.ā€ With that, the crime boss had hung up, and once the woman arrived, heā€™d shown her to the destination, made it clear that Rizzo was the target, and expressively ordered her to make it painful.

Then heā€™d left, heading upstairs to grab a shower, throwing his clothes in the fire once heā€™d finished. No one even lifted an eyebrow at his bloody state. No one working or living there doubted what Jonah did for a living, or what he was capable of, and as such, Jonathon Genovese had left Kalista to deal with the actual kill and the clean-up.


~~ Morning After the Gala ~~


Jonathon was in his office, not having been able to keep his promise to Victoria about coming to bed with her. Ah well, sheā€™d understand. He was going over the folder Kole had given him just before the gala, analyzing every bit of information, figuring out how they could possibly keep anyone else from figuring all of this out. Kole had been compromised. That was a problem, because if one person could put the pieces together here, then so could anotherā€¦ and anotherā€¦ and another. And that bitch to Garcia was already plenty on his case. Them going around killing cops like that was only going to add more flames to that fire, and Jonah had enough on his plate as it was.

And his brother was against him. Rizzo hadnā€™t know much, except the other Genovese had come to him, convincing him to go speak with Victoria. This meant that it had been his own brotherā€™s plan. That knowledge was a heavy burden on his shoulders.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He hadnā€™t heard anymore from Nate either since heā€™d run off like a lovesick puppy to join a girl whoā€™d left him fourteen years ago. Well, at least Rizzo was out of the picture, and Jared was due back today. Good thing too, because at the moment Jonah really needed to be around someone who seemed at least half sane, lest he get pulled into the craziness himself. On that thought, a text came in, and Jonah checked it, a relieved sigh escaping his lips. It was a text from Jonahā€™s top accountant and not a moment too soon either. The deal about Garcia was something Jonah kept tabs on, so yes, he knew about that press conference. He had people on it. So he merely typed backā€¦

ā€œOne of many, it seems ā€“ eyes already open. Welcome back.ā€ The last two words would be enough to let Jared know that he probably shouldnā€™t take his time in getting to the mansion. Jonah wanted to get business out of the way for the day and then maybe find time for sparring with his younger friend and business associate. The guy was one of the only ones who presented much challenge. Once sent, Jonah left his office. His wife should be out and about by now, and as he bounded down the stairs, he detected movement in the kitchen, so he slid the door open just enough for him to see and be seen, smiling just a little once he spotted his wife.

ā€œMorning, darling.ā€ He called out. Honestly he was hoping for a morning kiss before Jared arrived, and maybe a bit of a break. After all, heā€™d been up all night, and after letting out that tension between them yesterday, Jonah felt himself more at ease with her. It seemed she was done thinking he was cheating, and to him, that alone had eased up on a lot. Well, that and the absence of Anthony.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kole Marinos Character Portrait: Kalista Ross Character Portrait: Jonathon Genovese Character Portrait: Anthony "Tony" Rizzo
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Kalista Ross

Kalistaā€™s eyes softened as Kole snorted at her half-plea. She had to admit that hearing a cold-blooded killer use the word ā€œpleaseā€ was strange even to herself. She did not look up at Kole as he agreed to her request. She could hear the apprehension in his voice and did not need to see it on his face to know it was there; however, she could hear the sincerity in his voice as well. He was being honest with her, but she knew that there was a catch to it. She just didn't know what it was yet.

ā€œ..But only if you hang out with me more,ā€ Kalista finally looked up at the man with a grin. He tilted his head up slightly and Kalista shook her head. It was as if he were challenging her in some way. ā€œI run in Central Park every morning. Would be nice to cross paths. Besides, you in yoga pantsā€¦?ā€

Kalista tilted her head up as well, imitating Koleā€™s posture. ā€œOh, you can try to run with me, but you probably wouldnā€™t be seeing too much of me,ā€ Kalista paused a moment for dramatic effect before continuing in a taunting voice, ā€œIā€™d be too far ahead of you.ā€

Nothing else was said, but Kalista was glad that they were parting ways on a happier note. Kole gestured for her to exit as he held the door open and Kalista gave him a small smile and a courteous nod as she stepped back into the frigid night air.


Kalista let out a sigh of relief as she stepped into her plush bed with her worn out copy of Utopia by Thomas More. Truthfully, Kalista did not have a clue as to why it was perhaps one of her favorites, but the bookā€™s soft cover was delicately taped on and the binding was beginning to look as though she would have to glue it back on yet again. Kalista was fluffing the pillow behind her when her phone began to buzz on her nightstand.

Kalista growled in frustration and drew a hand over her face before picking the phone up, thoroughly planning on throwing the damn thing out the window. Fortunately, she had the sense to check the caller ID to see that it was the boss calling her. Kalista swallowed her frustration, realizing that he would only call her at this hour if it was urgent and held the phone to her ear. She only got the words, ā€œEvening, Bossā€, out before she was cut off by his harsh, authoritative voice. Kalista nodded sharply into the phone before realizing that he couldnā€™t see her nod. ā€œIā€™ll be right over,ā€ she stated, but he had already hung up.

Kalista sighed angrily, placing her book down and jumping out of her bed. She had heard, in the tightness of the bossā€™s voice, that he was calling her on a more personal job and that he would be expecting her as soon as possible. Kalista threw on her normal leather jacket, jeans, and calf-length boots before grabbing a pair of her patent leather gloves and going to the back closet where she kept her equipment. She grabbed her usual gear including two pistols, two knives, a silencer, and a variety of supplies for the clean-up, before heading out the door and back to the Genovese mansion.

When Kalista arrived, she was met by one bloody and sweaty Jonathon. This only heightened her suspicion that this was a personal matter and she knew better than to ask any questions. Her suspicion was confirmed as she was lead into the basement of the mansion and shown a bloody and broken Anthony Rizzo. As was the norm, Kalista showed absolutely no emotion as Jonathon told her to make it painful. She simply nodded sharply as the man left the room and Kalista was left to do her job.

As per the bossā€™s request, Kalista had made it hurt. When she was done with the casino manager, Kalista finally screwed the silencer onto her pistol. The man was as good as dead and if Kalista had left him there, he would have died an even slower and more painful death. However, Kalista knew that the boss would want her to make sure he was gone, especially after the scare with the old techie; not to mention, she wanted to go home and catch some sleep before the sun came up. Kalista looked at Rizzo once and then stuck the pistol between his eyes. The last words Rizzo heard were Kalista taunting, ā€œI never liked you anyway,ā€ before Anthony Rizzo was no more.

As always, Kalistaā€™s clean-up was flawless. No body, no evidence, nothing connecting either the Genovese or Kalista to Rizzoā€™s ā€˜disappearanceā€™.


Morning After The Gala


Kalista had only gotten a few hours of sleep, but it was nothing that she was not used to. The first thing she did in the morning was to take a rough and thorough shower and change her bed sheets. It was something of a routine for Kalista. She was always cold and blunt about killing a man, but she could not sleep in the same sheets that she had slept in less than an hour after murdering someone. She had already disposed of the clothing she had been wearing and once her sheets were changed and she had stepped out of her room in her sweats, Kalista felt refreshed.

The only other thing Kalista had to do was do a quick search for Rizzo to see if anyone was looking for him. Kalista nearly grinned when the search came up with nothing. Eventually someone would go searching for the casino owner, but it was a good sign that nothing had come up yet. It meant that no one had suspicions. Eventually, the news would probably make up some story about Rizzo disappearing to some other country. There would be nothing to say that he was dead and definitely nothing to say that he had been murdered. This was all Kalista's work. She couldn't help but feel a slight hint of pride at another clean, successful kill.

As she was accustom to doing after a kill, Kalista quickly grabbed her phone and sent a text to the boss. No one has noticed heā€™s gone. Itā€™s done. P.S. It hurt. This was nearly the same text Kalista had sent the boss every time she was done with a job - minus the part about it hurting; that was her own bit of sarcasm. It meant that Kalista had done her job and it was to reassure the boss that Kalista was worth having around.

As Kalista finished with her post-assassination routines, she sauntered into the open kitchen area of her apartment and grabbed a quick smoothie before strolling back into her bedroom and coming out in her running clothing. She threw a hoodie over herself and zipped it about an inch, letting the rest fall loose. Kalista grabbed her phone from where she had left it near the computer. Checking it, she saw a text from Kole had come in and suddenly remembered his request to go running. Kalista did not mind running with someone as long as they didnā€™t slow her down ā€“ and she didn't think Kole would. However, Kalista had just murdered Rizzo. She had no clue whether Kole knew about that or if he ever would, but Kalista was hesitant to meet with Kole after she had spoken to him so seriously about murder just the night before. Kalista sighed and swiped a hand over her face before deciding it was childish for her to say no to a run with Kole. She quickly typed out a reply as she grabbed her headphones and armband. I was just heading to Central Park right now. You can tag along if you think you can keep up. With that, she stuck her phone in the armband and headed out the door.

Kalista arrived at the western entrance of Central Park and stopped only for a moment to grab some water from the fountain. The temperature was not as freezing as the other night had been, but wind still nipped at Kalista's exposed skin every once in a while. She had left her hoodie almost completely open because she loved the feeling of the wind tingling her abdomen. It was one of the few things that Kalista ever enjoyed about winter.

Suddenly, Kalista heard a high-pitched childā€™s squeal from over to her right and whipped her head around to see who it had come from. Among the few runners and wanderers in the park, a child had tripped over a rock and was now cupping a bloody nose as his mother shook her head in frustration and produced a small packet of tissues from her purse. Kalista froze for only a moment as she watched them. The boyā€™s nose was bleeding profusely and it was leaking through the motherā€™s few tissues. Blood. Kalista suddenly flashed back to the other night and Rizzoā€™s broken, battered face. Kalista shook her head and furrowed her brow at herself. She had not felt this way since combat and it was almost alien for her to flashback anymore. It must have been that conversation with Kole, Kalista thought to herself as she returned to her run.The fact that Kole had asked almost the exact same questions that she hadnā€™t been asked in years was sure to bring back memories. As she continued her chilling jog, Kalista did exactly what she had told Kole. She took long, deep breathes and let the feelings wash over her. Kalista sighed heavily once more as she came out of her half-trance and reminded herself, Itā€™s always just passing thoughts.