The One Who Knocks

Marcus Blackman | 33 | Italian Trafficker | Second-In-Command

[marcussblackman]

👫-Draven

@dravennappo

Marcus has a deep respect for Draven, mostly because his silver tongue has kept Dante out of prison for years now. It’s quite a feat in the Underboss’s eyes

Marcus and Draven share a very similar sense of humour as well as aesthetic taste. However Marcus is the more cutthroat of the two of them.

Marcus occasionally drops by Draven’s office to gossip.

Draven’s contact photo in Marcus’ phone is a Slytherin house crest

[marcussblackman]

if you could be with someone with no questions asked, no repercussions who would it be?

“What, you mean I can’t do that already? There isn’t such a thing as someone unattainable for a guy like me.“

[marcussblackman]

Are you going to kill Luca?

“Thought about it, and as much of a pain in the ass he can be, I got plans for him. Besides, death is an easy way out. I prefer to play the long game.“

( @lucavdamore )

[marcussblackman]

Luca really got you

“Yeah, he nicked me. Ain’t forgetting that any time soon. But he’ll get his soon enough. I ain’t in any rush.“

( @lucavdamore )

[marcussblackman]

FMK: Alexandra Rothschild, Melanie Derrieux, Ivanna Mikhailov

“Hm…fuck Alexandra, though I don’t really know her, marry Melanie since I know her well enough to tolerate her, and kill Ivanna, because that sounds fairly Russian and I like living, thanks.“

( @alexandra-rothschild @derrieuxmelanie @mikhailovs )

[marcussblackman]

you should pay sana more

“Oi, who let you peek at my payroll, huh? Haven’t heard a complaint from her yet as far as that’s concerned. I pay my people well, thanks.“

( @sanaxehsan )

[marcussblackman]

What is your most obvious blessing or strength? What do you perceive as your greatest strength?

“The most obvious one? Might be a tie between this face and my fortune. But the thing is, and this ain’t exactly a well-known fact, but my greatest strength is my ability to read people. Calculate risks. Plan. While my brawn and my money got me pretty far, it was cleverness that brought me to the top. Cleverness and a couple of knives in the back, if you get my drift. “

[marcussblackman]

why do you hate kazia so much?

“She seduced me, stole my shit and cost me millions. Least she can do is work to repay a fraction of what she cost me.”

( @kaziaxnovak )

[marcussblackman]

how is the leg?

“Well it ain’t helping with my holier-than-thou attitude. Get it? Holier? Heh.“

[marcussblackman]

sanaxehsan‌:

Turning away from the staircase, Sana slowly descended the hallway with a sinking feeling in her stomach all of the sudden which made her wish she could simply turn back, go home and climb into bed to ride out this panic that she was just now realizing. It had been years since she’d felt this way so it was quite easy for her to forget it was even still something she might be faced with. Her pounding heart beat only seemed to make it all the worse.

She wasn’t too certain if she’d blanched of all color before she entered the space and got a good look at him or after. Her creamy skin normally full of hues of golden and rose due to her lineage was in the moment truly ghostly, as shivers raced up her spine. Her normally imperceptible face spoke of her state plain as day in that moment. And video calls were the last thing on her mind.

“W-why aren’t you at the hospital?” She managed shakily coming closer but stopping as she caught better sight of the bandage, torn pant leg, and dried blood. A hand shot up to cover her mouth though she pulled it back looking at her hand for a second worried she still had blood on it. She dropped it to her side in a rush, balling her hand into a small fist. The shower of bullets, the panicked screaming, the blood, and the sight of a dead man still twitching his blood still hot coating her…and now this. Her boss who wasn’t even there yet hurt none the less it was all too much for her. She could feel her eyes burning and she reached out to grip a chair to steady herself. “You should be in the hospital you were shot.” She said almost mechanically as if she could force herself to sound okay when everything else said otherwise. 

A part of him had been curious to see how Sana would react, much in the same way as observing an owner might have been interested in seeing how their pet reacted to a sudden change in the household. Being battered and bloody was practically part of the fine print when one joined the mafia, and all things considered he was still in fairly decent shape. But Sana, who was just about as civilian as it got, likely never saw anything that looked like this. Watching as she paled at the sight of him, Marcus sighed. He supposed her reaction was what one would have expected, but if this was the extent of what she could handle, he would need to take extra precautions that she remain as far away from his double life as possible. Last night was....a miscalculation.

“Nah, I don’t like the atmosphere. Besides, I managed to get a friend to sew me up. I’ll be up and running within weeks.“ The truth of the matter was that if he had been forced to go to a hospital, there would have been questions, and Marcus didn’t much like questions unless he was the one asking them. No, the Italian mafia had other resources to deal with this sort of thing. However, given that she seemed to be on the verge of tears, he would at least offer the minimal level of comfort. “It’s not as bad as it looks. The guy wasn’t aiming for anything vital. Had the chance to if he had wanted, but he was never going to do it. Security had him surrounded in seconds.”

Given the texts she had sent him while he was preoccupied, it seemed as though his fifteen seconds of fame had already come and gone in favour of something far more interesting. “I read your texts when I woke up. Given that you’re in one piece, I imagine you got out all right? No issues I need to deal with related to Golightly?” Marcus asked, watching Sana keenly. “What happened Sana?”

[marcussblackman]

matteomazzanti‌:

     Oh, god, he hated this. He hated everything about this. He hated how his boss had some deep-seated hatred for his boss, who was, consequentially, also Matteo’s boss, if you travelled up the line enough. He hated how he was the one trying to mend everything, because, if Luca got into much more trouble, Matteo knew he’d be taking part of the fall. Marcus Blackman scared him; he’d be honest and admit that to himself. And, Jesus, he really didn’t want to be going to this meeting.

     He stood in the doorway, not wanting to intrude on the man’s personal time, trying to keep himself from throwing up. Fear was a powerful motivator, and, even if Luca didn’t want Marcus’ support, Matteo knew that he, personally, needed it to survive. Without Luca, he had no job, no source of income - he’d likely end up on the streets. He needed Marcus Blackman to like him, despite the fact that he was Luca’s assistant. Despite the fact that he’d have to put up with being called errand boy or pet or anything else along those lines during this meeting. He knew he had to do it. He just dreaded it. 

     When he was finally invited in, Matteo moved to sit across from the underboss, trying not to make himself too comfortable. This was still a meeting, he still had business to attend to. “Yes, sir…” Fuck, he hated saying that. Hated hearing it in his own voice. Hated that he had to do this. “Matteo Mazzanti.” Did he have something for Marcus? “Um. Well. I just want to say that what happened at the party was… anger…” he hadn’t even seen it; how was he supposed to explain it? “Luca - Mr. D’Amore - didn’t…” mean to shoot you in the leg? What the fuck, Mazzanti. “Look. I’m just trying to repair things. It’s kinda ridiculous to have this much infighting when we’ve got bigger, worse problems out there on the streets. Luca’s impulsive as all hell, I can’t do shit about that. But I can tell you that he isn’t your biggest enemy. That’s the fuckin’ Irish, and the Russians, and the French, and all’a them. I’m more’n willing to help you take ‘em down. But there’s no way in hell we’re gettin’ our hands on those diamonds with all’a this infighting. I’m not just sayin’ this to you - I’ve told Luca the same damn shit. We’ve gotta get our shit together. All due respect, sir.”

Marcus wasn’t quite sure what Luca saw in Matteo. The kid was pale and shaky as he stumbled in, as though he was seconds away from hurling on the rug that Marcus had custom ordered months ago. A talker, if he had to put money down on it. The Underboss was capable of spotting those sorts from miles away, and did everything in his power to disassociate himself from them. That was, unless they were useful. And given his stiff demeanor, Marcus was certain that he wouldn’t need more than a little bit of theatrics to make this little bird sing for him. 

He remained dead quiet, listening intently as the errand boy made his case for Luca. Just a small implication of his reason for being there and a full spread of information was being presented to him. For starters, Matteo was scared shitless of Marcus. Second, he was desperate to keep Luca in the good books of the Underboss, trying to justify his action when Marcus knew fully well what had set him off. Third, he seemed like the sort of guy that Marcus enjoyed fucking with, and given he had little else to do in his current state, he was eager to test out his theory.

“Let me get this straight.“ He leaned forward, resting his weight on the cane as he scrutinized Matteo. “Luca shot me because he was angry? He didn’t mean it, so I should forgive him?” Dark eyes glittered, rage simmering slowly in his blood and making his leg ache at the thought of it. No, it was far too late for Luca’s bitch to beg him for forgiveness. It had been too late when the arms dealer had challenged him to a fight in the middle of a mission. “And now you want me to take advice from some no name punk on how to run my organization? Did I get the gist of that right?” It wasn’t about diamonds, or any of the other mafias outside of the Italians. It was about respecting the established order of things. It was the essence of what separated the Italians from the brutes, and Luca, quite frankly, fell outside of that precious heirarchy with his actions.

“What you are right about is that there’s more infighting than I care to have in my organization. Luca’s been left to his devices for too long. He’s forgotten his place in the family. I intend to remind him of what that place is.“ Marcus smiled then, but it was an unpleasant one. “What I want to know, and what you’re going to tell me, is why the fuck you deserve to walk out of this room alive. What can you tell me about Luca?“

[marcussblackman]

sanaxehsan‌:

Marcus.

Sana had taken a shower promptly after returning home safely the night before. Yet she’d stood under the shower head for far too long a second time that morning only hours later. She hadn’t been able to sleep much and she was hoping the rush of cold water would wake her up seeing as she felt exhausted still. And because she wanted to scrub away at her skin a second time out of paranoia that there was still blood lingering on her. Her morning routine was usually meticulous, but this morning just consisted of her putting her hair up in a bun, and dabbing on some moisturizer before she got dressed in a mock neck long back dress that hit her mid calf as it was the easiest garment in her closet to wear and still look put together in. She even skipped breakfast and coffee which was a usual must for her.

No, she was choosing to direct all her attention to the thought of her injured boss, because she didn’t know where to even begin processing the shootout at the hotel last night.

Arriving to Marcus’ house she rung the doorbell, only to remember he might not be on his feet yet. She tried the knob relieved that it gave way and she allowed herself in. Glancing around she stood uncertain for a moment before she simply called out to see where he might be. “Marcus? Are you upstairs?”

( @marcussblackman​ )

It was in the early hours of the morning, when dawn had long since broken, before Marcus staggered his way back home. Baby, who had been tending to him for most of the night, was no doubt equally exhausted. She had been asleep when he placed a new hundred dollar bill on her tabletop with a quick note, hailing a taxi so that he could rest in peace. One of his guards managed to get him to a couch before the Underboss dismissed him, hoping to get a few hours of shuteye while he was still in a drug-induced state. But only a scant three hours had passed until the pain in his leg flared up again, and he had to groggily text one of his runners to find a stronger painkiller.

He heard the doorbell ring just as he texted out his orders for the day, having a rather solid idea of who might be visiting. After all, he was hours late to the office that morning. “In the living room! Just follow the hall and swing a right.“ Marcus called out, his voice echoing in the mostly vacant space. Thank god Kazia hadn’t been returned quite yet; that would have been one hell of a mess to explain. The Underboss struggled to sit up, careful not to pop the clumsy stitching that held pieces of his thigh together. But the torn and bloodied suit that he hadn’t bothered changing out of couldn’t hide what happened.

“Sana! I was thinking of taking the next couple days off. You think you could rearrange some of my meetings to video chat?” He called out, offering some level of humour despite his tough circumstances. “Wild party last night, huh?“

[marcussblackman]

@matteomazzanti

Marcus was, to put it simply, mad as hell. Drugged up and irritable after having to rearrange countless meetings on the account of being unable to stand for long amounts of time, he had little to do but stew and simmer on just how to exact his revenge on Luca D’Amore for his insolence a few nights prior. His leg hurt, his head hurt, and sitting for so long was making his back hurt too, like some sort of crochety old man- and he hated it.

Given his circumstances, Marcus was left with little choice but to conduct his usual Underboss duties within his home; a move that was necessary, but put him in an even fouler mood than usual. The only thing keeping him from calling it a day and crawling back to bed was the promise of information that came in the form of one particular errand boy who was known to support his rival; Matteo Mazzanti.

“Come in.” He called, leaning back on his couch as he saw a figure hovering at his door. Marcus kept his composure relaxed, but it certainly didn’t mean he was slacking off. No, even with his leg bandaged and stitched, and the ebony cane that rested within arm’s reach, he was every bit the apex predator that he had made of himself. “Mazzanti, ain’t it? I hear you got something for me. Take a seat. Let’s talk.“

[marcussblackman]

sanaxehsan‌:

Sana gave her boss a look of doubt at his very casual delineation of his date. She doubted that girl was a business associate, she looked far too young and almost starry eyed for that, but she didn’t want to assume. As far as Marcus Blackman was concerned she’d observed in the last two years that she’d known him, and often by his own bolstering of his reputation that when it came to woman he was less than serious. That was perhaps why she never took anything he had to say – that was anything but professional, seriously. “Mhm,” she simply murmured as far as him talking of introducing them, she had little interest in that as she was not prone to putting herself in discomfiting situations. 

Not only did Sana Ehsan play her cards close to her chest, she up and left them on the table the moment she was ruffled. The last two decades had been nothing but unkind to the woman. She’d struggled to find herself, was put down for wanting more than the life her parents had, she was emotionally abused, and tormented. Stripped of her own volition, even her own body when she became pregnant. It still ate away at her that she couldn’t take care of herself enough for that child, a child she’d never wanted but was still responsible for. The guilt of that small sliver of relief she’d felt having lost it still plagued her. At the age of twenty three it’d felt like everything had come crashing down around her and all that burden she bared without any comfort from the people that were supposed to care for her no matter what. Her parents undoubtedly, her husband supposedly. And the troubles didn’t end with him.

No wonder she had trust issues, and refused to let anyone get close to her. People disappointed. She had no strength left in her for such heartbreak

Her gaze flickered back up to him when he asked if she was jealous, her warm brown eyes flashed, and she let out a small huff tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Glad for the foundation and blush that would surely hide any trace of warmth on her cheeks. Why did she have to bring up his date, and give him that idea? “More like relieved, if you’re busy with her you won’t have time to put me to work here. Did you know…a lot of your associate are here tonight? Is that why you were trying to peddle that invitation off to me?” she asked narrowing her eyes in consideration. Though it all lacked seriousness. They both knew she enjoyed him taking her along in his business ventures, meeting with other professionals, she’d be bored out of her mind just sitting in his office. She liked having a heavy workload.

Despite the stony exterior she put forth, she grew visibly flustered at his admission that there was no one to replace her. Taking a sip of her mostly untouched champagne, she decided not to pay any mind to that. There was no point in overthinking his frivolous statements.

She considered the picture he painted of the procession that would follow in the heiresses entrance. The thought of corgis of course enticing a smile. “I guess money can really buy almost anything,” Maybe not happiness and love, but security. “If you ask me they should stay in the museums, they’re relics of the past with such rich history. It’d be a shame for them to be trivialized, and loose all value but the price tag attached to them. Nothing would remain sacred in that way,” she mused. “Poor girl, I wonder if anyone even asked her if this how she wishes to spend her birthday. I could never stomach that feeling of being alone in a roomful of people.” She muttered, and almost immediately regretted saying it because it was all too true.

A smile, like that of a curious cat, grew wider as she huffed at him. “Maybe I knew, maybe I didn’t. Maybe I just had a solid guess.“ Of course his associates would have been in attendance that night; given how deep some of the pockets were in these parts, it was amazing that he hadn’t seen more of them circling around like sharks. Not that he expected their presence to ruffle Sana at all; hardly anything did, which made her so interesting. Even with his best efforts, she always seemed to see through his ulterior motives. “No need to go with an offensive with our regular clientele tonight. Your presence here will be more than enough to get the point across. Any level of association with the Golightlys is worth its weight in gold. They’ll be salivating over it for weeks, just watch.” Marcus tapped the side of his nose, shooting her a knowing look. “I know people, and they always flock to those with power.”

Besides, if Sana just happened to enjoy herself along the way, then it was like killing two birds with one stone. His assistant could use a night of fun far more than almost anyone else he knew.

He had, it seemed, managed to get at smile out of her with his exaggerations, so that was one objective down. “You might be right, Sana, but it’s for that very reason that someone like Howard Golightly would have gone after it. What better way to show off how wealthy you are than buying out a piece of history? Doesn’t make it right, but it does make it a smart move. Besides, some things just aren’t meant to stay stuck behind glass forever.” No, museums were just glorified boutiques for the elite, and given how many of those artifact were brought there in the first place, why shouldn’t they be? A blood diamond or two was never cause for concern for those types. 

“I imagine that she’s used to it, the socialite life.” Bunny Golightly was no doubt raised in a universe entirely separate from either of them. As strange as it was for Marcus or for Sana, this was a regular weekend for her, for all he knew. “Besides, statistically-speaking, there must be at least a few she recognizes- half of the bloody city somehow managed to get a ticket.”

[marcussblackman]

babydoefoot‌:

lucavdamore‌:

No one ignored Luca Nicola D’Amore and walked away intact. He might not have been as high ranking as Marcus fucking Blackman, but he had carved his way to the seat he occupied now in the Italian Mob. Blood, sweat, tears, and charisma–he had made sure his name was branded on his enemies, one way or another. It might not have been a name everybody immediately knew or thought of when they thought of organized crime in New York City, but he was hellbent on making that dream a reality. One day, he would be as infamous and revered as Marcus Blackman. And the next time that prick ignored him, he would make sure he paid for it dearly. With his life, even.

“Men threaten you every day, Blackman; if you think I’m the only enemy you have in the family, you’re a whole ass moron,” he seethed through gritted teeth. He was prepared to speak up further, perhaps to respond to Marcus’ snipe that Luca had gone and pissed him off, when Baby was calling him an asshole. His gaze shot to her, his stance still rigid and rife with tension as his gaze swept over her frame. After everything they’d been through, she would dare to stand here and paint him as the villain between the two of them? She would ignore the way Marcus used her–he was clearly using her tonight, though the motivation remained undetermined–in favor of calling Luca the asshole here? No, no, no, that simply would not do.

“Don’t forget who put you in that Givenchy creation draped all over you before you go off acting like a little asshole yourself,” Luca snapped, betrayal lashing through him with the force of a physical blow. It was almost enough to leave him staggering, a wound crinkling and fissuring open in the center of his chest as he realized that his girl was going to take Marcus’ side. For whatever reason or by whatever means necessary, she had chosen him tonight. “You would be nowhere without me, princess, and don’t you fucking forget that. You think this prick would have taken care of you the way I did? You don’t think that once he’s done with you, he’s going to throw you out like an old doll? I have dressed you, paid you, fed you–I’ve given you everything your little heart has ever desired, and this is the thanks I get? Spat in my face while you practically hump Blackman at an event you aren’t prepared to handle the magnitude of?” He paused, indignation and repulsion flitting across his face when she brought up him whoring her out.

“The events I whore you out at, if you’re going to be fucking frank, don’t end with a bullet pressing between your shoulder blades. This event isn’t safe for you, but maybe Blackman’s seduced you into thinking otherwise. I can only teach you how to use your body to your advantage, not how to gain common sense.”

But then Baby was pleading with Marcus, telling him that she would do anything he asked of her, so long as he didn’t let Luca ruin their evening, and he felt himself step out of his own body. He blinking, his ears ringing as his vision tunneled and fragments of a memory sprung to his mind, bleeding before him like ink running through paper. A woman, with raven hair in tight ringlets, grabbing her husband who still had the leather cord of a belt wrapped around his fist. Her fingers, almost feather-light on the man’s bicep as she attempted to turn him away from the young boy sprawled over the side of a bed, biting his lower lip to keep the cries from slipping out of his mouth with each lashing he received. Luca’s back was throbbing, the pain of broken skin, cracked like pavement on a hot summer day, echoing down to his very bones.

Please, Francesco, the woman was pleading, tugging at her husband’s arm. Don’t let him ruin this. The agency said if we prove ourselves, we’ll finally be allowed to adopt. The boy is dysfunctional, don’t let him ruin this for us. He’s broken.

He’s broken.

The sounds of laughter and glasses clinking together brought him back to the present, and by the time Luca had come to, Marcus was already pointedly leading Baby away from them. Marcus’ fingers rested against Baby’s hair, and Luca swore he saw red blot out his vision. He didn’t feel like playing with Luca now, but the arms dealer knew that Marcus would come back for him later. Monsters always came for their prey in the dark. But Luca wasn’t prey–he was a fucking predator, and he’d be damned if Marcus got away with everything he’d worked towards collecting for himself these long years. They were relatively isolated, most of the party having gravitated outside or to other rooms, as Luca flicked back his suit jacket in favor of pulling out the sleek black Beretta pistol he’d kept strapped to his hip–a personal favorite, truly–and went through the mechanics of loading the gun and removing the safety. The magazine clip loaded with a clip, Luca adjusted the gun in his grip, and removed the safety as he aimed for Marcus. 

He could shoot him in the heart, he supposed; Luca would take quite a bit of satisfaction watching the bullet enter through Marcus’ spinal cord, paralyzing him just before it grazed his heart and the life stuttered out of him. Or he could shoot him in the head–a clean shot, if done correctly, but there was always the problem of people sometimes living with brain injuries. But no, no–Luca didn’t want to kill Marcus Blackman. Not here, not now; not like this. Instead, he lowered his gaze, his jaw clenched as he aimed for a vulnerable spot on Luca’s leg. Right by his thigh; it wouldn’t kill him and likely wouldn’t break any bones, but it would at least halt Marcus long enough for Luca to get what he wanted. Control of the situation. He aimed, thanking himself for having the sense to put his silencer on the gun before heading out for the evening, and with a squeeze of the trigger, he watched as the bullet lodged itself in Marcus’ thigh.

“We aren’t done until I say we are, Blackman,” Luca said smoothly, walking–with all the time in the world, really, because Blackman sure as hell wouldn’t be walking straight any time soon–towards him, circling him like a predator and glaring at both of them. Marcus was high above him in the food chain, and Luca knew he would pay for this later–but whatever Marcus was planning, it wouldn’t have ended well for Baby. He could tell by the greedy glimmer in Marcus’ eyes. And whether or not Baby felt like being an ungrateful bitch, she was still his. He would protect her, no matter the cost. “I asked you nicely before, but superior or not, let’s get one thing clear. Whatever you’re planning, you self-absorbed prick, leave my girl out of it.”

( @babydoefoot· )

Things were very quickly spinning wildly out of control, and the heartfelt reunion with her little sister that Baby had been so desperately looking forward to seemed to be moving further and further away into the distance. They had already caused enough of a scene that members of the Golightly’s security squad were looming around them at all sides, keeping a watchful eye on both Luca and Marcus and remaining posed just in case one of them decided to risk it all, and Baby could only assume that they were delaying Bunny’s entrance because of it. All she had wanted was to see her - all she had wanted was to finally know that Bunny had really and truly escaped the hellish nightmare of their shared childhood in favor of finding a home full of love and warmth and security - but for whatever reason, Luca seemed hellbent on keeping her from doing just that. It wasn’t entirely fair to him, she supposed - after all, hadn’t she ensured that he knew as little about her past as possible? - but she still didn’t understand why he was so bothered by the fact that she had chosen to attend the ball as Marcus’s date. He hadn’t asked her to attend with him; for all she knew, he could have taken any one of the other dancers he so often liked to spend his time with at the club. No…Marcus was the only one here for her right now, and even though she knew that his intentions weren’t purely to do something kind on her behalf, he was still the only reason that she had even gotten through the door to begin with, and so - for that, she was grateful, and if he still managed to bring her close enough to Bunny, then she would gladly spend the rest of her life repaying him in any way that he demanded of her. 

Marcus stroked gently at her honey-blonde hair, and Baby leaned relievedly into the uncharacteristically soothing touch, her eyes fluttering shut as a shaky breath tumbled past her quivering lips. She hadn’t been on the verge of an anxiety attack like this in a long, long time, somewhere along the way when she had first taught herself to hide everything behind a smile, but when Marcus drew her in close with a strong arm around her tiny waist and began to lead her further away from Luca and closer towards her number one goal of the evening, she forced herself to relax as much as she could. That was - until Luca went off behind them, following after them relentlessly and barking out the cruelest statements that he could manage. It wasn’t just Marcus who was at the mercy of his volatile fury; when he told her that she would be nothing without him, Baby flinched, and she had to squeeze her eyes shut once more at the sudden influx of repressed memories that came rushing into her mind like a freight train. The abuse hadn’t come to an end when she had been taken into foster care; how many of her surrogate fathers had spread her out and used her while behaving exactly the way that Luca was right now? How many of them had told her that she was nothing without them, that she was worthless and good for little more than fulfilling their perverse needs? They had dressed and fed her, too, just like Luca did, and they had also thrown it in her face and threatened to take it all away from her if she didn’t do exactly as they said. Was that what love was? Living in constant fear of doing something so awful that life as she knew it would be yanked away from her and torn to pieces?

Was that what her love for Luca was like?

She couldn’t think about any of that now, though, not when she was so close to making it through the seemingly-unpenetrable fray of security and reuniting with her sister, and so she ducked her head and kept her eyes squeezed shut as she rested her brow against Marcus’s shoulder again’ she was quivering from head to toe and on the verge of tears, but it would all be worth if the moment she was able to wrap her arms around Bunny and give her the present tucked away in her escort’s jacket. However…coming up from behind them was the faint and barely-heard click of a sound, and in the next instant, the rush of something cold and silvery was shooting through the air before landing itself firmly in the back of Marcus’s leg. “Oh - oh my God!” Baby’s cry was loud and piercing, her eyes widening helplessly as the underboss at her side all but collapsed where he stood; Luca had shot him in the thigh, and already his blood was beginning to run crimson all over the ballroom floor. “Marcus - Marcus!” Frantically, Baby did what she could to support him with her much-smaller frame; she reached for one of his strong arms and draped it over her shoulders, letting out another tiny cry as she struggled beneath the weight of him. She turned them both around to face Luca, if only because the nearest exit was behind them, and it was only then that she was able to get a good and proper look at the arms dealer.

He was a man unhinged. His eyes were dark, his jaw tense and taut with unbridled rage, and his voice was like daggers as he spoke. He had just - solely on her behalf, he had shot a man in cold blood, and Baby had no idea what that meant for the two of them. Had he really just risked everything, including his life, solely because the sight of her on Marcus’s arm had been too much for him to bear? Was he really so worried about her so-called lack of safety with the underboss that he had taken to violence as a means of solving the problem at hand? Luca - as fucked up as it was, Luca had never done anything like this in the past to show that he cared for her, and Baby was equal parts overwhelmed, terrified, and angry because of it. “You shouldn’t have done that,” she said breathlessly, shakily; security was swarming in on them like a furious throng of buzzing bees, and Baby was torn between three things: taking care of Marcus, finding her sister, and telling Luca to run as far as he possibly could before the head of the Italian mob realized what he had done. But - Marcus was bleeding. Marcus was hurt, and due the commotion they had just caused, Bunny’s arrival would almost certainly be delayed even more than it already had. 

She couldn’t abandon Marcus - not when he had done everything in his power to make her dreams come true tonight. It wasn’t his fault that things hadn’t panned out; it wasn’t his fault that he had ended up getting shot in the process. “Let - let’s get out of here, okay? I’ll bring you somewhere safe; I promise I’ll take care of you,” she said to him in that same breathless, fretful voice from before; he might have been just another man who gave her orders when it suited him and ignored her when it didn’t, but that didn’t mean that she didn’t care for him. On the contrary, Baby cared a stupid amount. “They just want us to leave; they aren’t going to help you - all they want is for us to get the heck out of here so that they can clean the floors.” That much about rich people and their hired help she understood - they had no time to tend to the needs of the people they deemed ‘beneath’ them, and she doubted that they would send anyone after them so long as they left. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” she continued in a shaky little whisper, wincing as she urged Marcus to hobble on his good leg so that she could bring them closer towards the exit, and it was then that she passed by Luca - Luca, who was no surrounded by no fewer than eight armed guards - and she looked at him helplessly, vulnerably, for a long moment before turning away. 

He’d never understand what he took from her tonight. Just like she’d never understand what all had been going through his mind that had compelled him to shoot his superior from behind.

“We just - need to get in a car. Then we can look at your leg; I - I promise it’ll be okay.” Baby didn’t know if Marcus was able to listen to her at all right now, but she rambled when she was anxious, and she knew that if the situations were reversed that she would want him to keep talking to her no matter what. He must have been in so much pain, and her heart ached at the knowledge that it was all her fault - that it was all because of her. She brought them both outside into the cold nighttime air, and it didn’t take her long at all to hail a cab - the slinky red dress certainly helped, of course, and it was too dark for anyone to realize that Marcus was bleeding all over her - and she urged him desperately into the backseat, easing him onto his back so that she could bring his wounded leg up into her lap. He was bleeding an alarming amount, and Baby’s brows furrowed together worriedly as she brought the hem of her pretty dress upwards to press firmly against the bullet wound; the damned thing was still inside of him, and Baby had no idea how they were going to get it out without going to the hospital. Which…they couldn’t do, of course. Not when the police would need to be called immediately after their arrival. 

She would need to be smart, then - a trait that most people didn’t think she was capable of. 

“Drive quickly, please. As fast as you can,” Baby told the cabbie breathlessly, cutting him off in an instant as he turned around to look at the bloodied mess they were making out of his backseat; she had a hundred dollars tucked into her garter belt just in case, and she could only hope that it would be enough to buy his silence and cooperation. After a moment’s deliberation, she gave him the address of her tiny Brooklyn apartment - Ana was still back at the party, and no one had ever been there before aside from the two of them. Not even Luca or Marcus. It would be the perfect place for her to tend to his injuries. “How are you feeling? Are you still with me?” she asked him in a voice that was soft but firm with urgency, applying steady pressure to the back of his leg as he laid with his knees bent in the back of the cab. He was far too big to be laying down; it would have been almost comical if not for the current circumstances. “I - I won’t let anything bad happen to you, okay? No matter what, I’ll make sure that you’re taken care of.”

And…for the rest of the night, she would do her very best not to think of all that she had left behind at the ball - her baby sister and Luca. 

The sound hit him far quicker than the pain did. Marcus remembered a fresh wave of anger rising up as Luca slandered Baby; a woman he should have been begging for forgiveness to, and wanting to step out of the situation to get to his real objective of the evening. Then, amid the murmuring crowd, there was a click of a gun and a quiet shot, ringing in his ears with its sheer proximity. Then, hot white fire started to burn up his leg and he stumbled, crashing to the floor as metal bit clear through his leg, tearing muscle and ligaments apart in an act of sudden violence. He heard Baby scream, the sudden rush of guards swarming in to contain Luca, but it was all white noise to the Underboss. All that there was, all he could focus on, was the pain, and the feeling of his own blood pouring to the floor, staining a suit he had paid thousands for (Melanie was no doubt, going to kill him since Luca had done such a shit job at it).

“Son of a bitch.” Marcus struggled to stand, reluctantly leaning on Baby when it was clear that his leg refused to accept any measure of pressure. It took every ounce of his strength and concentration not to pass out. A part of him wished he didn’t bother. But Baby was losing her shit and Marcus would much rather have died then give Luca the fucking pleasure of seing him suffer. But with security all over them like a murder of crows, there was no possible way that the Underboss could possibly even the score in this setting. No, he’d be lucky if the Italians weren’t banned from The Garden Hotel permanently. “You crossed a line, D’Amore! Don’t think you’re getting out of this now. You hear me? This ain’t over.” He roared above the screaming, shooting a glare so withering that a brave man would have pissed himself on the spot.

He brought a hand up to his face, wearily rubbing at his temples with bloodstained fingers. Dante was going to kill him for this mess, but not before he got his hands around Luca’s fat neck and strangled him first. “Sorry about the dress, kid.” He mumbled, not fully registering his surroundings as Baby dragged him from the ballroom, managed to get him into an elevator and into the back of a darkened taxi cab. Things were moving too quickly for him to register any of it, the hellish fire numbing to a dull roar as he continued to lose more and more blood. “And your sister...I’ll make it happen. I’ll...” He blinked hard, trying to focus on not moving his leg or how much every bump in the road sent fresh waves of pain coursing through his body. “...arrange something. No one’s untouchable. I’ll find her. I swear it.” Would it be easy after all of this bullshit? Hell, he’d be lucky to get within one hundred feet of the Golightly heiress after this. But the suffering Baby was being put through, and the value of a connection like that, he couldn’t let it go even for something like this.

Luca D’Amore was going to pay for this.

Marcus forced himself to breathe, even as the taxi came to a rolling stop in front of a small apartment in the middle of fuck-nowhere-New-York. Stairs, God he really hoped there weren’t stairs. “Look...It could have been worse. The night can only go up from here, right?” He offered a strained smile, feeling the sweat trickling down his face as his body tried to cope with the unexpected assault on its person. It felt shitty enough that his mission had been botched, but forcing Baby to play nurse outside of the occasional roleplay? That was just degrading. “We’ll just slap together a metric fuck ton of gauze and I’ll go see my guy about stitches later. Duck tape it if we have to- at least the shot was clean.” Or was the bullet still lodged in his leg? He wasn’t certain, but freaking Baby out seemed like a poor idea. “This wasn’t your fault, you know that, right?”

[marcussblackman]

Sana: ??? wht do u mean

Sana: before everyone. Went mad/

Sana: i don't knwk how tot get otu

Marcus: just drama. A disagreement with a guy I know

Marcus: stings a bit but i'll live

Marcus: Are they not letting people out? Why?

[marcussblackman]

Sana: Heading home, have a good night.

Sana: where ru? ru safe?

Marcus: Left early. I got shot

Marcus: Long story.

Marcus: Why? You miss me already?