Cora Shelby's Story

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Two years ago, Danny had never gone by a nickname. His parents had named him Daniel. Not 'D', not 'Dan', not 'Danny'. Daniel was the name on his birth certificate, his social security card, his badge...Daniel. But none of those things existed anymore. Oh they were somewhere, he was sure, under a red label that claimed 'confidential'...but not real. Not tangible. Not something he could pull at and look at.

To be fair, Danny wasn't on anything he could pull out and look at either. It was just...something he could feel. Something he could relate to every time he heard Cora call it down the hall, or when Wyatt gave him an acknowledged nod before work, or when Frank whispered it somewhere near his ear...

Danny sighed and brought his cigarette up to his lips. He could remember Daniel Lynn...but he could hardly see him anymore. He wasn't in the mirror staring back at him, that was for sure. Daniel Lynn was turning into a memory...and Danny was both ready to be free of him, and terrified to see him go.

It was all very confusing.

Kind of like these damned parties.

Danny opened his mouth and let smoke fall out of it, watching the party around him come back into view full force. Diavolo de Rossi looked spectacular as always, done up in beautiful reds and golds, the sign out front claiming they were having some kind of fancy charity event. Inside, however, the people weren't just rich and famous...they were also dangerous.

The waitstaff was mostly made up from kids in his building, the ones on the second to the top floor. Not good enough to play with the big boys, but smart enough to keep their mouths shut. They were too busy to overhear anything important anyway...well, except for Cora, who he could pick out of the crowd only because he knew her. She seemed just as busy as the other servers in their professional black dresses, but Danny had learned to watch her, really watch her. She was eavesdropping, listening into the conversations the other Family members couldn't.

Zack was also a top-flooer blending in with the staff himself, his unruly curls tamed back for the night, his fingers moving quickly over the drinks he passed out. Danny could only catch them occasionally, the little packets of drugs, the secret exchange of smiles and nods. Zack was good, even for Danny's trained eye. Very good.

Kitty was there too, a knock-out even compared to the other women who were hanging onto their husbands (sugar daddies?) arms. She looked fantastic, in her element, hard at work. She knew things too, heard things even Cora didn't, because she spent her time surrounded by yes-men...and Danny was sure all she had to do was bat her lashes to earn a handful of secrets.

He took another drag of his cigarette.

Elena and Adrain De Rossi were socializing with every bit of grace they'd been born with, dressed in clothing so expensive he was sure it would pay his rent three times over (not that he was paying his own rent, really. The services he provided the Family covered that expense). On the other side of the room, Ivonne was doing the same, a champagne glass held elegantly in her hand, expression blank as usual, gaze ever vigilant. Looking at them, one wouldn't ever expect something was wrong.

Then there was Wyatt, always close to Francis, even surrounded by people they called Friends. Granted, Danny knew better. For one thing, Frank was ever paranoid, for another...these parties were rarely what they appeared to be. Danny had only been to two himself, but he recognized a recon operation when he saw one. This time he was at least somewhat in the know. He'd earned some trust, finally.

Money was missing. Large sums of it, siphoned out slowly from the Family budget for the last couple of months, at least. It was sloppy work, which meant it hadn't been someone in the inner circle, but one of the soldiers out on the street everyday. Probably some idiot who had stumbled onto numbers he wasn't supposed to have. But they hadn't been able to lock down which division the leak had come from. Sex, Drugs, Weapons, so on, so forth.

Thus, the party.

It was a game of politics, manners, and skill.

Danny finished off his cigarette and snuffed it out in the ash trey next to him, his eyes following his mark diligently. Sebastian Olivarez. Danny recognized him not only from the folder Wyatt had handed him earlier that week, but also from police reports...although the former was much more detailed. Drug Lord, low level, fairly new to the game. Worked down in the Bronx. Armani suit, but a little ill fitting. Danny swiped a whiskey glass off one of the trays going around, took a large gulp of it, then rounded the corner

He pressed two fingers to his forehead in a salute around his glass when they touched, and Olivarez gave him a respectful nod in return.

Danny deposited the glass on another floating tray then looked at the phone he'd just snagged from Olivarez's coat pocket. Blackberry, password protected. No problem, just mildly annoying for now. He caught Frank's eye when he looked up, grinned and sent a wink his way, then disappeared into one of the backrooms to drop the phone in the collection of mobiles, planners, tablets, and anything else he'd gotten his hands on in the last ten minutes.

His job was simple: steal, look, return. It'd been a little tricky at first, but the more rounds Zack and the alcohol made, the more susceptible people were. Not to mention, it was quick work. Most of the electronics were uninteresting, because the smart mobsters didn't keep private information on hackable devices. Then again, smart mobsters also didn't steal form their bosses, so there was that.

Danny plopped himself down on one of the sitting sofa's, threw his feet up on the coffee table, and sat to work undoing the password. He wasn't a hacker by trade, but he'd picked up a few skills over the last couple of months, and he was sure it wouldn't take him long.

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IVONNE ABNER

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attire; x XXXmood; self-assured

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"You must understand that I only want what's best for..." The man's hands fumbled against each other, and his tongue flickered over his wet lips every time he took a pause in his overly deliberated sentences. "... I would hate for a silly rumor to impair not just my reputation, but our relationship..." He was excessively groomed, with trimmed nails, glowing teeth, and white hair waxed and sprayed to the point of looking like plastic. "... It's all a misunderstanding, of course..."

His name was Chancellor Bevon Willcox, and his expression was saturated with stress as he searched for more to say. The 'silly rumor' was concerning a grim-fated concoction of him, his secretary, and an excessive amount of unwanted touching. A 'misunderstanding', indeed.

"It would certainly be mutually beneficial for you to-" "How so?" He was clearly unsettled by the woman's sudden reply, and his slackened jaw moved up and down as he gaped for words. "I don't really know what you mean-" "I mean, how will it be mutually beneficial?"

The woman took a sip of her wine, a matter-of-fact expression on her face. "As far as I can tell, the only one that benefits is you. The man that sexually harassed an employee and then began sputtering excuses when he got reprimanded for it."

The chancellor reddened, and his jaw once again began gaping. "I- I said it was a misunderstanding! Y- You must understa-" "You must understand, Chancellor, that among our 'ranks', we employ corrupt policemen, drug dealers, arms dealers, and prostitutes,"

Her smile was soft, and almost solicitous. "But even we have standards."

His eyes widened in shock, his rubber lips forming an 'o', and she retained her smile, and bobbed her head softly. "Enjoy the party."

She moved swiftly past him, and in afterthought, added over her shoulder, "I doubt you'll be attending another one."

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Ivonne moved to a spare space in the room, taking a sip of wine as she metaphorically caught her breath. It was supposedly a party, but all Ivonne could see was an ocean of business transactions. A commerce of gossip and secrets. It was at parties like these that some of the most important decisions were made, where 'familial' bonds were strengthened, and others were cut. Ivonne brought the glass to her lips, analyzing the crowd as she waited for yet another pig-brained politician with some self-caused problem to come to her, claiming innocence.

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There were times that Cora enjoyed being unnoticeable, and then there were times that being so average annoyed her. Luckily, this was one of the former moments. She had taken up the job of bussing for the moment, cleaning up after those careless individuals who decided to leave empty glasses wherever they felt like it. She weaved in and out of the crowd with a grace that she reserved for times like this. Parties weren't uncommon among the crowd, though this one had more of an edge to it; they were here to suss out the culprit of the recent missing money scandal. Even if they couldn't find the culprit she had been instructed to keep a vigilant eye - and ear out for any leads to one. Which happened to be the only reason that Cora wasn't complaining about cleaning up after these rich bastards.

Not to mention this gave her a chance to pick up some dirt on the party go-ers for the family to use later on. People were getting more loose lipped as Zack filtered around the room. And she felt it her duty to make sure she gained as much knowledge about these people as possible. Many of them were rich, the dangerous type of rich, so it didn't hurt to know as much as possible. While she really wanted to get her hands on anything in the pockets of these people she knew better. This was a formal event, and she had only been tasked with listening and watching - so listening and watching is what she's determined to do. Even if its a shame to pass up such a great opportunity.

Sighing, she picks up a couple of empty glasses and sets them on her black trey, getting near enough to a couple of conversing politicians that she could hear their conversation....boring, their conversation is about an affair. If Cora had a dollar for every time someone had an affair in this one place she would have over a thousand dollars. Everyone and their dog these days have been in an unfaithful relationship. In fact, more than half of the men and women here come to these little shindigs just to meet with Elena's girls and get their disgusting rocks off. Not that Cora could really judge them, but when you've got so many people vying to sleep with red lights finest its a bit hard to ignore.

Not to mention plenty of the men here had already made untoward comments to her, and while she went unnoticed in the best of ways she was still female, and apparently ANY young female here was free game to them. Oh well, there was little she could do but grit her teeth and move on without biting their heads off, as much as she really wanted to. She decides to file away the Politicians conversation for later, and heads for the kitchens to deposit her full tray. Passing by Zachary on the way she purposely bumps him hard with her shoulder. Turning and winking at him before she continues on her way.

The two of them had been annoying each other all night, that was simply her most current bid to piss him off. She's looking forward to whatever payback he decides to show her, but for the time being she had a job to do - and dammit she was going to do it well. While nobody so far had really let slip word of anything to do with the missing money she kept her ear to the ground, and watched the more sketchy bodies in the room with interest. While it could be pretty much anyone she had more sense to keep an eye on the ones who presented as the most likely suspects; at least in her eyes.

Zack is pissed.

Well, as pissed as one can be when trying to keep a certain facade.

He hates these events, stuffy suits and even worse company to keep - but damn did he love the money that he got from them. It almost made this sordid soiree bearable. If only he didn't have to deal with games all night on top of slick hand dealings and quirky smiles sent to undeserving patrons. He kept his eyes trained on Cora as she flitted about the room, only braking to engage in quick conversation. Doing what he did best. Making his rounds around the room with pockets bursting with treats. And honestly, these people were like lambs to the slaughter. Each wanting more than the next, the odd addict in the room twitchy as they slip cash under the table. All in a day's work.

Yet it makes Zack more nervous than anything, feeling the eyes on him, following his every move. He never did work well under scrutiny. Though he sucks it up, tucks his damn shirt tail back in and proceeds about the room in a timely manner. As more pills slipped down gullets tongues loosened to the point where he no longer had to put up with idle chat. Just had to make deals and keep his head down. Don't look at anyone for too long and they won't pick you out of the crowd. He sighs, and wipes sweat from his forehead, hating how the tightly packed bodies generated more heat than the fucking space heater in his rundown apartment.

On the way to another customer Zack catches scent of strawberries. Barely has time to root himself firmly before a frail shoulder is jabbing painfully into him. Red washes over his vision for a moment before he realizes that it's just Cora. He hates the kid - no, he doesn't hate her but goddamnit, disliking her is just instinct by this point. Their friendship was as short lived as a fly's life expectancy. About a day before the two were at each other's throats. Snarling dogs vying for alpha. If anything they were more like siblings; screwed up, hoodrat siblings.

Her wink sends a shiver of rage through him. Dammit, he wants to do anything to wipe that smirk off her face. Thier little game was a daily thing, who can piss the other off more and so far she was winning - as much as he hated to admit it. She knew what she was doing. Tonight was so much worse, his nerves already jilted by the constant passing of drug back and forth. And he hated small spaces and there were enough important bodies here that he felt confined. Packed too tightly. He follows after her, tugging tight on her elbow to get her to stop moving so damn fast. "Can we not do this tonight?" He asks, because really tonight of all nights is a bad time to play this game.

With everything on the line and a rat to be found, the two of them really couldn't afford to piss off the higher ups with their little sibling rivalry.