I was angry with my friend; I told my wrath, my wrath did end. I was angry with my foe: I told it not, my wrath did grow.
00:00 - "It's just business then, eh?"
00:02 "When in history has it ever been about anything different?"
00:13 - "Everyone's forgotten who runs this valley."
00:21 - "I am not your enemy, and I am not your friend. I am simply here for what is mine."
01:52 - A man's voice in a British accent recites the poem "A Poison Tree" by William Blake.
I was angry with my friend;
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.
And I waterd it in fears,
Night & morning with my tears:
And I sunned it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles.
And it grew both day and night.
Till it bore an apple bright.
And my foe beheld it shine,
And he knew that it was mine.
And into my garden stole,
When the night had veild the pole;
In the morning glad I see;
My foe outstretched beneath the tree.
Valentina had assumed she would have felt more emotional in this moment. Like the sight of her father being carted off in handcuffs would suddenly unleash this well of empathy for the man who had helped bring her into the world. She thought that the softness she had once felt for him would rise to the surface. Maybe she’d get flashbacks of her childhood, when he’d actually sit and read with her or take her for ice cream after a good grade.
But all Valentina felt was relief as she sat in a car with her mother further down the block.
It had happened fast for something that had taken her years to plan. She had thought several times about finding a way to kill him but that would just be using the same playbook he had. The man cared about nothing more than his reputation so killing his reputation seemed to be the only way for her at the moment. She knew she had to be smart. She had to build a case, she had to find things that were so severe, so sturdy, that not even his lawyers could talk their way out of this one.
His targeting of Mikayla Beaumont had sent her over the edge, an urgency rising up in her chest as she watched him act like the Godfather once again. As she watched the town almost get swept away in sand and realized that maybe she cared about the people here. Maybe. But she had to draw the line somewhere. He was out of control and even worse, he was a likely winner for Mayor. She knew that if she didn’t stop him now, or at least deter him for some time, then they would never be able to turn back.
So she set the wheels in motion. Left breadcrumbs for the ATF agents and local cops. Enough for them to take Mikki’s article to heart. And then came her final move.
Valentina could feel the stress leaving her body as she got out of bed and pulled on her robe, glancing back at Roman on the bed before she let him know that she had invited him over for more than letting him attend to her beautiful body. She pulled a thick folder from her dresser and dropped it down on the bed next to him. She knew he’d ask questions and she was ready for them and clear that he needed to be as quick about this as possible. And with another kiss to his cheek, she sent him on his way before going to see her mother and brother to let them know what she had done.
And Roman had of course delivered as she knew he would. Or else she wouldn’t have trusted him with it in the first place.
So Valentina put the car in drive as they dipped her father’s head into the police car. She was slow until the car turned down a larger street and pressed her foot to the gas so they could pull up beside the police car. She kept her speed steady as she and her mother turned to look at Gio in the back seat. And as they set their eyes on him, they both smiled. Beatrice even blew him a kiss before they sped past them and turned down the next road, in search of an appropriate celebration.
The hours ticked by one after the other, and while Nikolaos Dimopoulos was not the type to stand idly by, he'd recognized the importance of giving the benefit of the doubt from time to time -- at least when it came to his relationship. But at a certain point, at the twelfth hour of no word from Mikayla during her 'business trip' to Las Vegas, the location she'd shared from her phone still stagnant in it's position at the hotel she'd be staying at past checkout, he knew that something had to be very, very wrong. Though concern, worry, fear struck him to his core once the realization hit, he remained calm.
The type of calm that was often unsettling.
The first step was calling the hotel, offering up the name Mikayla typically used as she 'worked' under the guise of her personal assistant in need of an invoice. Thankfully, to his luck or perhaps his uncanny ability to sound convincing over the phone, it only took moments for the detailed receipt to be sent right to his inbox where he saw – Endeavor Property Holdings. Immediately his mind sprung back to the only place where he'd ever seen that name: Mikayla's article.
Jaw clenched tightly, his composure slipping for the briefest moment as he abruptly stood, the kitchen chair he'd been sitting on immediately toppling to the ground from the sheer force. Giovanni. This was all his doing, the silent waiting game they'd been playing for weeks now finally coming to a head.
He should have known, should have suspected this could be a trap. Foolish of him to think Giovanni wouldn't step outside the town line to conduct his sadistic fucking mischief, if only because he rarely did himself in all his years with Los Santos.
Moving to the office, he opened up his laptop and did a quick search for Endeavor Property Holdings, writing down each address registered with the company, cross referencing with the current operations, how long they'd been in business, any particular financials...until he came to an unusual one. A building that'd housed a small furniture store for a few years before closing up shop, and yet the address -- the Las Vegas address -- was still registered to the company.
Even better, Endeavor Property Holdings had been actively making payments this entire time.
This had to be it. And, if not it, then at the very least something.
Moving over to his bedroom closet, the male opened up his gun locker and pulled out two semi-automatic handguns, as well as a bulletproof vest, tactically strapping them to his person before pulling out his phone and dialing the only person he knew he could trust.
There was a temptation for Stef to just let his phone ring, irritation building at the sound of it vibrating as he pulled it from the pocket. Squinting at the screen in annoyance he only answered once he saw the caller ID.
"I need you for a job." Niko said by way of greeting, knowing Stefanos was the last person in the family that would take offense to his urgency. Closing up the gun locker, he pulled a thick shirt over the vest, along with a dark colored jacket, heading out of his room and towards the door.
There's relief rather than offense at the lack of pleasantries between them when Stef always preferred to get to the point. It's shown in his brief response, though part of him considered it something that his cousin should already know. "You got me."
"Small operation, but bound to be bloody. I'll explain on the way." Niko didn't expect Giovanni would house a lot of men wherever Mikayla was being kept. If anything, the less eyes, the better, even if this entire thing was sloppy. Perhaps the CEO was getting desperate.
“Is it gonna be a long one?” Stefanos’ question wasn’t asked out of concern for himself, not when as long as he had time left to give it’d be given to his family without a second thought. Niko could have as much time as he needed, though the urgency in his voice seemed to suggest that time was of the essence.
“It’s ninety minutes out,” Niko replied, “if we’re smart we should be in and out in less than an hour. I’ll be there in five.”
Stef’s mind had gone to his dog, reluctant to leave him alone in case they got tied up, especially when the malinois had taken after his master a little too much with how few people he liked. But a plan was already forming in his mind without really waiting for Niko's response. “I’ll get someone to stop by for Titan.”
Stef fired off a text to his neighbour and with the minor obstacle now taken care of, the man sprung into motion. Vague grunt of acknowledgement was given to the few details that Niko provided, pulling out what he needed from his tightly organised closet accordingly. Nondescript clothes and a bulletproof vest. Guns and rounds were then stashed on his person, even picking up a small knife in case it ended up getting a little more up close and personal.
"And Stef? It's...personal," Niko swallowed thickly, getting into his car. "But I need you to prepare as a professional. Got it?" He spoke as he drove, his mind racing as fast as he sped down the highway as he worked to connect the dots, to strategize with the very limited amount of information that he had. Despite the worry – dare he say, the fear – that gripped at his chest in anticipation for the state Mikayla might be in, the brutality she must be experiencing, he kept a level head, a calm disposition. The last thing he needed was to lose his grip, and he was confident that with Stef by his side he could do just that.
Another might have paused at Niko's next words, shown some hesitation or surprise at hearing the admission, pressed for details or remarked on the way that his voice seemed to have grown tight with emotion. But not Stefanos. He barely missed a beat before uttering his clipped reply of “Say no more.”
The pair of them had always been similar enough that he felt safe predicting how his cousin might feel. If his twin had been his other half, possessing all the traits that he lacked, then Niko was his mirror image reflecting so much of himself back at him. It was maybe an assumption that the other would feel uncomfortable with his brief display of emotion but Stefanos knew that if their roles were reversed he'd have wanted to move on from the vulnerability of it immediately.
Final check was given to the space around him, ensuring he had what he needed for whatever lay ahead of them. Satisfied he was prepared enough for what they would face, he locked up and waited on his porch. “I’m ready.”
At five minutes on the dot Niko was pulling up to Stef’s place, and only moments later they back on the road and heading west, close to the California border. Silence fell over their drive at first, the former capo attempting to collect his thoughts before deciding it was time to give his cousin an explanation – at the very least, it would provide insight into what they were doing. The why of it all didn’t typically matter; whether it was Stef’s call or his call, there was an innate trust between them where they knew that whatever they were doing was necessary.
“You saw that article that came out a few weeks ago. In the Tribune, about Giovanni Ricci.” It wasn’t a question – of course he did. Stef had his ear to the ground just like he had. “The person who wrote it, she’s my girlfriend.” Niko’s eyes briefly flickered over to the other male, knowing that he’d divulged he’d been seeing someone but leaving it at that. “She went to Vegas last night, was supposed to be back this afternoon. I did some digging. I think he’s got her.”
Niko shook his head. “I don’t think he’s stupid enough to take her for payback alone, I think he’s probably trying to get her to reveal her sources. She’s just stubborn enough not to give ‘em to him.” A slight, humorous scoff fell from his lips, his expression turning dark only a moment later. “I’m not planning on leaving anyone in there alive.”
Stef had little to say in response to Niko's revelations on their drive over, hardly feeling as though there was any need for his additions. Acknowledgement had been given when it was needed, the odd nod or grunt, finally speaking only when his cousin had made his intentions for the kidnappers clear. "You got it."
–
The building was a far cry from the boutique furniture store that was shown on a few old Google photos, but it hadn’t been hard to find. He turned his headlights off and parked on the very edge of the lot, Niko’s Bentley shrouded in darkness as the two of them cased the joint.
Two Escalades parked right beside the building, yet no one inhabited them. Gun drawn, Niko motioned for Stef to follow him toward the back door, pressing his ear against the cool exterior. Immediately he could hear the sound of two men speaking, the aloof, casual cadence of their voices causing him to tense up in anger.
A shoulder against the door frame, Niko held up two fingers to his cousin and then pointed towards the door, before motioning for him to come closer. His finger moved to rest on the trigger, his free hand wrapping around the metal knob, and he nodded towards Stef before swiftly opening the door and shooting the man on the left square in the chest whilst the other took the man on the right.
Swift nod was given in response to Niko's instruction. Stef could practically feel the tension rolling off his kin. The stakes were high and emotions along with them but Stefanos had always been able to play at being the calm in any storm. Shifting so that he could take aim through the ajar door, he lifted his gun and pointed it where his cousin wanted, exhaled and shot. The thud he heard moments later signifying that he'd hit his target.
“Clean.” Niko complimented Stef as he stepped over the bodies, his boots narrowly missing the pool of blood beginning to expand out on the floor.
"Always." Humourless smile tugged at the corner of Stef’s mouth after his quip left it. Taking the life of another maybe should have been a heavier thing - the weight of a life was supposed to be something he carried around with him, wasn't it? - but Stefanos had pulled the trigger enough times it felt almost as natural as breathing. Nothing more than a reflex, an instinct now.
There'd be time for overdue guilt one day but in that moment he only cared about doing what Niko needed.
Niko’s ears perked up upon hearing the sounds of frantic footsteps above them, and he nodded towards the stairs and began to ascend. Obviously these men were pure grunts, no substance by how frantically they seemed to be moving about.
The sounds of gunshots were unmistakable, and they were getting closer. Mikayla should have felt some sort of relief that someone was coming for her, but the man in front of her eyes went wide with fear, a similar feeling taking her over. People did reckless things when they were nervous or afraid, and the gun in his hand and the frantic gaze between her and the hallway was enough to tell her this might not end well for someone. There was nothing she could do, her hands and feet bound to the chair beneath her – though even if they weren’t, the bruises and swelling around her body surely would’ve made escaping past the two men nearly impossible.
“You can get away before they get here,” she murmured in an even tone, hoping to reason with them. “You won’t get out alive if you don’t.”
“Shut up!” the second man hissed. In a few long strides, he made his way across the room to her, slamming the butt of the gun against her head and moving the gag back into place.
Once upstairs, Niko turned the corner to see one of the doors slightly ajar, raising his weapon and slowly pressing forward until he was beside the door frame. Through the opening, a man stood with his gun drawn, facing towards the inside of the room as he shouted commands to what sounded like another person. Brows narrowed and he listened a bit closer, the groans of a woman under duress becoming more and more apparent. He swallowed thickly. Mikayla.
“You.” Niko mouthed to Stef, gesturing to the man in the sliver of the doorway, squatting down low to give him a clear shot. “And then we…” He clenched his fist, motioning towards the room. Once he was confident that his cousin had the shot, he held his head down to allow him to take it, pushing into the room a moment later.
Standing tall, Niko pointed the gun at the forehead of the first man – the only man – that he saw, jaw clenched tightly as he realized that he was pointing his gun elsewhere; right at a bound and gagged Mikayla’s head.
Mikayla was afraid to move, to speak. The instinct to plead for her life grew more with each tense passing moment. She looked at the two men, one unfamiliar but looking so much like her boyfriend he could only be one of his many cousins, and then her eyes locked on Niko’s. She could feel the trickle of blood through her hair down the back of her neck, head swimming from the earlier impact.
“Don’t move a fucking muscle!” The grunt shouted, pushing the gun further against her temple. Quickly, Niko was able to deduce two things: one, based on his body language he could tell that this guy was nervous. He wasn’t told that there was a possibility of violence. In fact, none of this was anticipated – at least not this quickly. Two, there had been more people here only moments ago, judging by the way the room had been laid out. Perhaps Giovanni himself had also been here, perhaps they could even catch him if they moved fast enough.
However, for once in his life Niko wasn’t thinking about the smartest thing to do. He was thinking of what he wanted to do.
Stef moved into the room behind his cousin, instantly coming to a stop as he took in the scene before him. Brief internal debate waged, wondering if he should try to go after the others but the idea was quickly shot down when he caught how jumpy the kidnapper looked. One sharp movement from either of them could end in tragedy.
So he stayed still, reading both the kidnapper and his cousin's body language, never for a second doubting that Niko didn't have the situation under control.
A sigh escaping him, Niko met Mikayla’s gaze for a brief moment, attempting not to fixate on all the pain and anguish evident in her wide-eyed stare. Stay calm. Don’t get emotional. “Close your eyes.” Niko advised her sternly. He looked back up at the man, a cruel grin twitching at the corners of his lips as he shook his head.
“Amateur.”
Niko took the shot, the bullet immediately piercing the kidnapper’s forehead and propelling his body backwards, blood spurting in all directions. Mikayla flinched as the gunshot echoed off the walls, blood and gore splattering across her face. A stillness fell over the room, and Niko quickly cased the area before calling back to Stef. “It’s done!”
Niko let out a large breath, pushing his gun back in his holster before switching gears, immediately moving to tend to Mikayla. “You’re okay, baby – hey, you’re okay.” His tone was soft, calm as he began to undo her binds, removing the one from her mouth first before working on her wrists, her ankles. “I’ve got you.” Once undone, he knelt down, meeting her at eye level and taking her face in his hands, his thumb brushing away the fresh blood that had just been spilled from her cheek. “It’s over, it’s done.”
Mikki’s whole body shook, the adrenaline of the moment coursing through her veins and washing the fear along with it. She had never stared death in the face in the same way she had tonight, and though she knew Niko had blood on his hands from his past, knowing and seeing it for herself were two very different things. He was lethal, and all of the warnings he had given her before about the kind of person he was finally felt real.
A sob ripped forth from her throat and she threw her arms around him, holding on for dear life. “I’m so-sorry. I-I-I shouldn’--” her voice cracked. “I shouldn’t have come tonight...”
Niko shook his head, squeezing her tightly, securely, in his arms. “This isn’t on you.” He assured quietly, his own cheek now stained from the blood that matted her dark locks. “None of this is on you.”
Feeling too much like an intruder to a private moment as Niko's attention shifted to his girlfriend, Stef made his way through the room towards where others might have made their escape. Methodically he checked the rooms finding them all empty - bar one. Two men lay within the last room, one with a gun in his hand, the other tied to a chair looking worse for wear. Decision was made quickly, shot fired at the kidnapper before checking on the man in the chair. There was a vague sense of familiarity that reassured him that he’d made the correct choice, relief felt when he could feel a pulse beating in the other’s neck. With a sigh he threw the man’s arm over his shoulder, balancing his weight before he made his way slowly back towards the lovebirds.
He made sure his footsteps were heavy on his approach, not wanting to startle them or interrupt at the worst possible moment. Clearing his throat as he re-entered, Stefanos cut straight to the point, though the man he was propping up would likely have drawn attention regardless. "Assuming he’s with you?” Brow raised, question aimed at the woman before gaze moved back towards his cousin, confirming that there was no one else left to worry about.
Niko turned to look at Stef, another heavy sigh escaping him as he recognized the man passed out at his side. “Ah, shit.” He muttered.
Hearing Stef’s footsteps, Mikayla looked up in time to see the man dragging an unconscious Elliott into the room. Another sob left her and she nodded, moving to stand and stumbling in the process. “Oh my god, what did they do to him? Is he alive?” She didn’t wait for an answer, instead making her way to them and checking for herself. He was beaten and bloody, probably as much as she was, but he was alive. That’s what mattered.
“He’s breathing,” Niko assured, following close behind Mikayla and wrapping a hand around her arm, pulling her closer to him in an attempt to keep her steady. He could imagine adrenaline was coursing through her at a mile a minute, knowing that she’d more than likely be in absolute anguish once that wore off.
“No sign of anyone else." Stef’s eyes traveled over the room, wondering if there'd be anything useful that they should pick up. But even with the option of evidence he had no desire for them to linger. "We should get out of here."
Niko nodded. “You get him in the back seat, make sure he’s still breathing.” His eyes flickered between Elliott and Mikayla. “They’re both going to need medical attention. We’ll tell the docs in the ER that they were mugged.” As much as Niko preferred to avoid formal hospital settings considering the risk of police intervention, he knew it was warranted here.
Taking one last glance around the room, Niko steeled himself and gently lifted Mikayla up in his arms. He met his cousin's gaze, giving him a knowing look – one that expressed all the gratitude that he wasn’t able to verbalize at that moment – before nodding to the door.
Summary: Leads on from his thread with Logan - Nate finds Josh in Webster Village and bang bang. (If you don’t read Logan’s drama, ask britt, I guess).
Mentions: Logan Donovan.
Triggers: Mentions of murder and sexual assault from the get go.
By all intent and purposes this right here had ended the way it was always supposed to, for Nate, however, he had had more of a softer approach in mind for Joshua Allen who had only ever caused Logan years of trauma. His version of softer was only to force him the fuck out of town, yet as he had brought a gun underneath Josh's chin forcing the guy to pull his own trigger, it had been more a moment of karma. One that was fully justified for a guy that had assaulted his sister, one that Nate could only convince himself that he had done the same to others, as well as most presently the woman that had left the small home in Webster Village clutching her bloodied face. The reason that had caused a switch to flick in Nate's mind, one that had altered his entire viewpoint, allowing that anger to completely take centre stage when all he could see was his sister in that position, especially with Josh's apparent need to reconnect with a woman he had inflicted far too much pain on.
So as he stood in one of the showers at the MC's clubhouse, Nate only found himself shifting through a moment of overthinking reflection as the water splashed across his face. It wasn't regret, nor guilt, it was mere chaotic calmness as he tried to pinpoint where he might have fucked up. It wasn’t a thought that was extended to him taking the law into his own hands, no, Nate's morals never followed a society norm and so his way in thinking was remembering if he had left any indications of whether or not he had been in the same house as the man he had just killed. Remorse wasn't a feeling he felt when he knew Josh was deserving of the end he had gotten, it was a fine line he was balancing on and yet if his sister felt safe? He'd do it a hundred times over and think the end result was justifiable.
As he ran his hands across his face he closed his eyes, instantly transported through memory to only an hour ago as he crouched in front of the dining table chair he had forced Josh into. The firearm steadily pressed underneath the male’s chin? Belonged to its current victim. One there had been an initial struggle for and yet as Nate stared up at Josh, it was clear any sign of fight had been overridden by complete fear as the guy before him trembled. One that Nate only built up an amused persona for once he had been hit with pleas, finding some form of hilarity within those considering as far as his sister was concerned - somebody who didn’t even get the chance to say no, it was easy to assume Josh didn’t even know the meaning. The sole reason why Nate had continued to toy with him, wanting Josh to feel as afraid Logan had been before he met his end. The last fives words Josh heard? Hope it was worth it.
Opening his eyes Nate was back on present time, turning off and stepping out of the shower he reached for his towel before getting into fresh clothing. For the most part he found himself wanting to tell his sister that she didn’t need to worry anymore - that she didn’t need to look over her shoulder in her own hometown, but that need to ease was overtaken by him not wanting to kick start her into any form of panic. They were thoughts that combined and then sunk with that scratching feeling in the back of his mind, the addict inside of him pulling its way back up from the hole Nate had managed to suppress it into five months ago, one that resurfaced with a dimming form of degradation. The only relaxation Nate got in the form of pushing it away was the Marlboro cigarette in between his lips; it was a slip on his otherwise set goal to keep himself wholly clean and sober.
“I will never let anyone see my full heart and destroy it.” -Elizabeth Acevedo
TW: brief mentions of death.
Unlike her uncles and cousins, Lupe grew up further removed from the violence that often plagued the lives of anyone with their last name. Protected by the men in her family and nurtured by the women, she was enabled to always explore her sense of self and place in the world. Though often during her upbringing, she worried if she was almost too sheltered and often wanted to see and know more. Endlessly curious, Lupe was always getting herself into situations she shouldn’t have been but always had the wit and cleverness to talk her way out of it. It amused her family as much as it annoyed them and her biggest champion has always been her cousin, Hernando. Much more like an Uncle to her, Nando always encouraged her to reach beyond her limits and try everything that she dreamed of. Because of him, she grew close to her second cousin, Mikayla and thought she had siblings of her own, Mikki has always been like her sister and best friend much more than her cousin.
It has been this abundance of love that has guided her for so much of her life. Although she was born in Tonopah, she was raised partially in Mexico and Texas due to her father’s obligation to travel a lot for work. Both his day job and his job with Los Santos. Lupe has always been an extrovert despite being someone who takes her studies seriously. She’s the true embodiment of work hard play hard. And that rang true in high school with a long list of extracurriculars and even some sports. Though her true hobby was anything that would involve her in a car going at top speed. It started as a curiosity after one night of riding along with one of her cousins to watch a street race and grew into something so much more. She hadn’t been someone to get her hands dirty before but she learned over time and as soon as she had her license, she became even more of a worry to her family but that was hard to argue when she still remained such a good student.
She graduated top of her class in her high school in Texas and went on new adventures for college. She completed her bachelors degree at New York University to be closer to Mikki and her Aunt Penny and then went on to get her law degree at Yale so she would still be relatively close to the city. During her summer though, she’d always find a way to spend a bit of time in Tonopah Valley to check in with family and her Uncle Nando.
It was during those summers that she got a bit closer to more of the members of Los Santos, including a few that her uncle would probably scold her about if he knew the truth. But she’s always been a woman who knows what she wants and tries to go for it the best she can. It was also a chance for her to improve upon her racing and get a few wins whenever she could convince her cousins to go with her to Vegas or anywhere in the middle of the desert.
The death of her great uncle along with Mikki and Hernando’s move to Tonopah Valley made it an obvious pick to follow along, though it took her a little longer to get her affairs in order. She became a partner at the law firm of her old college friend and mentor, Sawyer Decker and lived with her cousin for a brief time until she found a place of her own. She became Los Santos unofficial lawyer but when her Uncle killed Alejandra, she spent the past few months brokering a deal for him and found a way to get him and his girlfriend to safety. Now she’s back to deal with the aftermath and to make sure her family’s legacy not only stays intact but that they all actually remain alive.
Headcanons:
An extrovert in every sense of the word though she’s becoming better at drawing boundaries around her own time. But she’s definitely the friend to ask if you want someone to join you on a night out.
Keeps her racing life pretty private but it’s slowly becoming as important to her as her day job. When she’s not working, she’s usually out in some random parking lot practicing her turns or scanning her social media to find new opportunities. It makes her feel like she has a double life which kind of excites her overall.
Despite the dismantling of Los Santos in Tonopah Valley, Lupe is still determined to look out for everyone who was associated with the cartel that’s left in town. Both out of loyalty to her Uncle and because she still considers them all her family.
LOCATION: Hotel in Las Vegas
FEATURED: @giovanniiricci @elliottortegax
MENTIONED: @maevemacnally, @nikodimopoulos
It was done.
The article she had been working on for months was finished and had been posted both on the Tribune's website and on the front page of the print edition.
It was strange how her feelings for the town and the people in it had significantly changed since she had agreed to Dante's ultimatum nearly three years ago. A place she had never anticipated feeling any attachment to had become home, the people in it her friends and family. Now, with it all in jeopardy, she couldn't in good conscience stand aside and let it happen without putting up a fight to make up for her part in it all. What better way to stick it to the head of the organization that had blackmailed her than to use those same connections to out him for who he really was?
And yet... she had miscalculated. What she had viewed as a mercy of not pulling her friend into it ahead of time given all she was going through turned out to be the exact opposite, blindsiding her friends with the reminder of what they had lost.
Grief reared its head in all kinds of ways, but she hadn't expected the pushback. She hadn't expected the anger from Maeve and her family when she thought she was doing something to help, keeping the names of those lives lost at the forefront of the conversation -- a reminder that they hadn't been forgotten, that there were still people searching for the answers to why they had had their lives senselessly taken from them. Now, because of her own selfish pursuit of redemption, she had hurt others and possibly ruined their friendship for good.
Every day since Niko had told her of the collapse of Los Santos -- and as a result, her ring of protection -- she waited for the businessman to retaliate. There was nothing: no refuting her claims, no spinning of some kind of PR story to explain away the evidence she had found. The silence was deafening.
Still, life moved forward. She still had to go to work, put a smile on her face like she wasn't terrified of the other shoe dropping. The weekend of the music festival quickly approached, and she tried to allow herself to enjoy the idea of letting go and forgetting her cares for even a few hours, even though the last couple of events hadn't gone well. But first, she had to meet a client.
Luna had gotten a request for an evening on the Friday of the festival weekend. Niko insisted she cancel, but she figured before she had to face the ire of those in town she'd upset, she could have the distraction of a night in Vegas. To appease him, she kept her personal phone on her with her location enabled as she made her way to the meeting place.
The opulent hotel lobby shimmered in bright white marble with accents of gold throughout. It was enough to tell her that whoever her client was had a lot of money. If she did well tonight, she wouldn't have to work for a little while. She could help Niko with the restaurant, or they could go to Greece like they had talked about. It felt so long ago already, though it had only been a few weeks realistically.
"Excuse me," she greeted the man behind the check-in counter with a smile. "I was told there would be a key waiting for Luna?"
"Ah, yes, I have that here for you." He pulled out a drawer beneath the desk and pulled a keycard from inside, double checking the room number before jotting it down onto the sleeve.
"Thank you. Is he already up there?" Receiving a nod in response, she smiled and thanked him once more before heading to the elevators, heading for one of the penthouse suites. These were her last few moments alone before she'd have to put on an act for the remainder of the evening. Closing her eyes, she took in a deep breath, trying to brush away the uneasy feeling settling like a weight in her chest. Just one night, then she'd be able to work on everything else later.
The elevator dinged, doors sliding open to the appropriate floor, and she searched for the appropriate room number. Usually when clients left a key at reception, they wanted things to keep things discrete, so she didn't bother to knock, using the key to let herself in.
The room was dim with only a few lamps lit around the common area, and she didn't immediately notice anyone inside. A table in the eat-in kitchen was set with two glasses of wine and two plates covered by metal domes to trap the heat inside and keep it fresh, but she caught whiffs of something earthy and sweet. "Hello?" she called. Maybe he was getting cleaned up, she thought. "Is anyone here?"
"Hello, Miss Beaumont."
Every bone in her body stiffened at his voice. She'd listened to enough interviews and campaign speeches to know the voice of Giovanni Ricci.
If only she had trusted her gut.
Giovanni casually strode from one of the side rooms, a coy smile on his lips like a cat who'd cornered its prey. She backed up towards the door but was immediately halted in her pursuit by a broad, hard chest behind her. The security guard gripped onto her arms to hold her in place as another locked the door.
"I'm so glad you could join me this evening. Please, sit." Giovanni motioned towards the seat across the table as he took his own, unbutton his suit jacket as he did so.
Mikayla was forced into the seat, though she struggled to get out of the guard's grasp. He grabbed the decanter full of red wine and poured some into each of their glasses. "You're not an easy person to get alone, you know." When she didn't respond, he continued. "I read your article, of course. It wasn't entirely accurate, but I was genuinely impressed by what you managed to uncover. I don't imagine you could have done that without help." His gaze flicked up to meet hers. "I'm curious to know who your sources were."
"I wouldn't be a decent journalist if I didn't protect the anonymity of my sources," she replied.
Giovanni chuckled. "You'd be surprised at what information even a person with integrity is willing to share when they're subjected to pain beyond imagination."
Mikki held her breath. "Is that what you're going to do to me?"
"Perhaps. It depends on you, really." He held his glass in the air, waiting for her to do the same. He raised an expectant brow, the silent tension growing every moment she delayed. Finally, she lifted her own glass and held it up, allowing him to gently tap them together. "I'm hoping it won't come to that if we can reach some kind of agreement."
"Is that all you want to know? My sources?"
"Mm, well," he started after a sip of the wine, "right now, yes, but questions beget questions and so on and so forth." He waved a dismissive hand in the air. "You know how it goes."
"No, actually. This is my first time being interrogated for information."
The other guard who had locked the door came to the table to lift the covers off the plates, revealing a filet paired with mushrooms in some sort of wine cream sauce and mixed vegetables on the side. If it had been offered by anyone else, she would have begun eating right away, but she didn't trust that none of the food had been poisoned or tampered with. That didn't stop the man from digging into his own dinner.
"It's rude not to eat," he remarked, watching her.
"It's rude to kidnap someone, too," she retorted.
"I'd hardly call it kidnapping when you came of your own volition," Giovanni chuckled again. "I suppose if you don't eat it, our other guest will."
Mikayla furrowed her brow. "Other guest?"
As if on cue, the muffled sound of a groan came from the room Giovanni had come from. Mikayla's eyes darted in that direction, her heart racing in her chest. She wouldn't put it past him to use someone in her life to get her to talk based off of everything else she'd learned about the man, but the number of people it could be had become an ever-growing list over the last few years. Who could he have grabbed without anyone else noticing?
"Ah, he's awake. Bring him here, would you?" Giovanni didn't even look up to address the guard, but the man nodded and made his way into the room, grappling with whoever was being held there.
Mikayla's eyes grew wide as a bloodied Elliott was dragged into the room and thrust into the third chair at the table. "Dad! What is he doing here? What did you do to him?!"
"I've grown tired of the traitors within my organization who believe I don't know of their disloyalty," Giovanni replied in a bored tone around the steak in his mouth. The man glanced across the table at her, face stoic. "He's been watching you and your mother for years using our resources. If only he'd done more to hide his allegiances, I might have believed he was true to the cause."
Her father was a part of The Enterprise? The news shook her to her core, but she did her best not to let Giovanni see it. The last thing he needed to know was another one of her weaknesses to use against her.
"If you tell me what I want to know, you both can walk out of here and you'll never have to worry about me again. And if you don't... Well." He smirked. "I'll be forced to get creative."
The Deckers were the epitome of new money, with the family's wealth being made by the stealing and use of land by Nellie's grandfather, Jonathan Decker Sr. The patriarchs of the Decker family had no only a chip on their shoulder of how they felt snubbed by families of older money in common, but their domineering personalities in both business and family life.
It was how Jonathan Sr treated his son, and how Jonathan Jr would treat his children, a seemingly endless cycle of abuse. Jonathan Jr would go on to marry Jaqueline Boudreux, she was below wha this family would consider 'worthy', having been from a middle class family, but she had a submissiveness that he desired. The couple would go on to have three children, Jeffrey, James, and many years later, Janelle. Only months after Janelle was born would Jaqueline disappear without a trace. Of course, there were ugly rumors that Jonathan had done something to her. But the family knows the truth: she couldn't stand the monster of her husband and sons any longer, and fled only months after giving birth to Nellie, leaving her with the same men she sought to escape.
Jeffrey would go off to be the only of the children to have a family of his own, Shepherd, Cole, and Saywer, although Cole had been borne out of a tawdry affair and not even known to his family until very recently.
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