as everett expertly tricks lorenzo into openly revealing her codename ( belladonna –– both a reference to the deadly nightshade flower and her father’s pet name for her ), solange can’t help but roll her eyes. if it’s this easy to get information out of the man, no wonder he’s become a double agent. ‘ honest men don’t have anything to fear, but –– here’s the thing –– i don’t think lorenzo here is an honest man. i think he’s a selfish, weak-willed coward. someone who didn’t have enough resolve to stay loyal to one side, and instead chose to betray both. and i’m sure lorenzo knows all about how we italians deal with backstabbers, ’ she muses, a quiet part of her silently in awe at how seamlessly she and her partner have settled into their interrogation roles and routine without having rehearsed it prior. despite his obvious disdain at her taking the first part of their intervention on alone, everything almost seems like they’ve been practicing it for quite some time, rather than settling into it on the fly. ‘ lorenzo, ho solo una domanda per te: who would you say you work for ? ’ she asks, deadpan, knowing full well she’s now full wedged her knife in the man’s open wound, ‘ because surely, even someone like you is loyal to someone. ’ her head cocks as the man’s offers the pair nothing but prolonged silence, accompanied by a look of pure defeat, knowing full well no answer will retrieve him from the grave he’s thrown himself into. his silence is answer enough. the girl lets out a loud sigh, before turning to face everett, arms crossed firmly across her chest. ‘ how does pulling the car around and taking him someplace else sound to you ? not necessarily to question him some more, but just –– ’ she pauses, looking over to lorenzo, ‘ mio dio, just the sight of him’s enough to make my blood boil. we need to do something or i’m going to accidentally end up hurting him. ’ despite her anger towards the two-timer, she’s forced to turn her fully body back to him once she and everett agree on a course of events and plan of what they’re to do next. though, no part of their plan has really allowed either of them to truly claim whose side lorenzo is to be delivered to. ‘ you, up ! ’ solange orders, gesturing with her free hand, keeping the gun in her other pointed to the floor for the time being, ‘ all three of us are going to take a ride. any attempts to run on your part will be met by a bullet somewhere unpleasant. –– don’t say i didn’t warn you. ’ the trio exit the small, concrete room, making a beeline for one of the service entrances guarded by a myriad of security cameras and a security guard who, thankfully, is profoundly asleep. though solange has made sure to keep her firearm down for the duration of their walk from one location to the other whilst inside the casino walls, once they’re back outside, it’s instantly raised back against lorenzo’s spine. ‘ the first unpleasant spot’ll be one or more of your vertebrae, by the way, ’ she whispers, stating the obvious, offering everett a nod as he sets ahead to go retrieve his vehicle from the parking lot.
the car finally rounds the corner, and the strength of the pressure with which solange is holding her gun into her hostage’s back hardens. now isn’t the time to lose him. duct tape, zip ties and cuffs are applied, and he’s quickly thrown into the trunk of the suv, allowing solange to finally regain her place in the comfort of the passenger seat. ‘ you weren’t too bad back there, ’ she utters, barely audibly, extending her legs forward as the car roars awake again. the lights of the casino soon disappear behind them, as do the rest of the gaudy neon signs of stores, bars and nightclubs, replaced by more traditional street and traffic lights. every now and again, her eyes swiftly dart over to everett, watching the oddly shaped shadows created by the street lights and building facades dance across his face. if he wasn’t so intent on hurting, killing and taking things away from those in her bloodline, perhaps she’d find him pleasant. attractive, even. but even she knows one’s allegiance is indivisible from their identity, no matter how chiseled their jawline. just as she’s getting lost in thought, her eyes make out three dark silhouettes planted in the middle of the road. tall, with long coats flapping in the evening wind. as everett advances ( at a slower pace, most likely because he too has seen what stands before them ), solange’s eyes finally start making out who the three figures might be. ‘ merda, ’ she swears under her breath, recognizing and confirming the identity of three of her father’s men. her mind immediately thinks of everett, who is now the only full spaniard in the vicinity, now surrounded by italians who are –– as a rule –– always armed. diplomacy isn’t always her family’s strong suit, but sending messages continues to be a time-honored tradition, so odds are not stacked in her partner’s favor. ‘ stop the car, ’ she orders ( though it comes out as more of a plea ), attempting to piece together the pieces of the puzzle of instructions about how to operate next.
‘ belladonna, come sta ? ’ the man in the middle of the trio calls out, approaching her car window, and leaning against the car door once he’s close enough.
‘ tutto bene, massimo, e tu ? cosa sta facendo qui ? ’ solange replies simply, throwing her chin in the direction of the two other men, still standing in the makeshift spotlight created by each of headlights of everett’s car.
‘ i professionisti stanno prendendo il sopravvento, belladonna, ’ he states, a mocking undertone to his words. he pauses for an instant, before adding, ‘
digli di rilassarti, arrivarono anche gli spagnoli. ’
the man then moves away from the car ( not without loudly slapping his hand against its metal hood ), waving to what solange imagines are the spaniards he just mentioned. she turns to face everett, before realizing he most likely understood no part of her conversation with massimo. ‘ they’re taking it from here, ’ solange sighs, unbuckling her seatbelt, ‘ each side brought backup. ’
when he hears a whisper of a compliment come to his ears, he grits his teeth & tightens his grip on the steering wheel, not even giving the femme any sign he heard it. he’s not in the mood to exchange any pleasantries with the sabine woman — nor he doesn’t need assurance that he’s good. he knows he’s good, & that’s why he was assigned on this mission. & he wasn’t able to display the range of his abilities because of her antics she pulled back at the casino — which, he’ll be the first to admit, doesn’t usually phase him. fellow members stepped on his toes all the time, interrupted his thoughts, changed the plan on the fly, but it never was for any vindictiveness, it was never for a prize to be won between them. it was always to get the job to be done faster, quicker, & better. & to think that he didn’t care about the glory either — he just would have preferred to have a job well done by the both of them ! if that’s where he and this italian differed, it didn’t set a good precedent in his mind. his frown deepens as he continues in thought, foot depressing the brake for a slow approach once he sees figures in the road. he doesn’t care as solange rolls down the window & he definitely doesn’t care as hears thumps from the trunk ( lorenzo was probably in full hysteria at this point, not knowing the location nor his fate ). his hands are still deathly gripped to the wheel, & his body is still tense from the vexation bubbling within him. he thought she was different, & he’s partially angry at himself for even thinking that. it’s stupid, thinking that he found someone who didn’t really care about the lines between gangs, someone who didn’t want to be there in the first place. who was he kidding ? he had seen the glint in her eye making plans, and even more so when she held that gun. ( this is when he pulls over to the side of the road & gets out of the car, squashing any hope he ever felt as soon as boots hit the ground ).
the december air is as biting as before, maybe even more so — the rushing river flowing under the bridge is turbulent as ever, almost thrashing with the anger of a thousand bulls. he’s not too familiar with this river, as it is customary for deaths by his hand to be dealt with quickly. but if they’re here it means two things: lorenzo is not only meeting death here, it is a public warning to those in the gangs not to become a rat. the river itself was known for its fast stream & jagged rocks -- before he drowned, lorenzo would probably be mortally wounded. as much as everett didn’t like lorenzo nor the idea of being disloyal, a rotten taste in his mouth forms as he thinks of how slow lorenzo’s death will be and public the whole spectacle is. ( there’s just something about this whole situation that strikes him as a little macabre, maybe even too morbid about the public execution — then again, everett was a private person at heart, and never was open to anything public ). wide hands find the way to his coat pockets, where he pulls out a single cigarette & a lighter. it’s a small release from the anger, but it’s a relief all the same. a hand raises in greeting to the fellow spainish men across the way, now conferring with the italians, and gestures to the back of the car by tilting his body towards it, nonverbally asking if he should get lorenzo. another man -- alejandro -- shakes his head to say lo tenemos cubierto. well, okay. fine by him. he places the cigarette between his lips and sparked the lighter, lighting the tip of the cig. the six men come over to the car on cue, & everett clicks the key to unlock the trunk. lorenzo's blubbering begins as soon as he recognizes faces from both sides — surely, he knew what was to come. two men — one spanish, one italian — heaved lorenzo out of the car and dragged him across the pavement like a heavy cow to slaughter. madre de dios, was everett glad not to be apart of this death. they have time to themselves now — now’s better than ever to tell her what he’s been mulling over in his mind.
‘ so, ’ he starts, taking a long drag of his cigarette, his jaw locked & set. ‘ when were you ever gonna clue me in onto your little plan ? ’ his voice is hushed, but his timbre is still gravelly — he doesn’t need the two sides to perk up & think that he’s making a threat ( or worse — a move on the precious daughter ). ‘ or were you always planning on making me look like a fuckin’ moron, being your fuckin’ coat boy, walkin’ into that set up with you and a fuckin’ gun pointed at a man who was already shittin’ bricks by being caught ? ’ a scoff escapes his throat, beefy arms crossing over the plane of his chest as he turns his head away, chesnut hues observe one of the spanish men gesture towards a pleading, hysteric lorenzo & then towards the gushing river — he turns back to the partner, but something turns in his stomach when he regards her as such. he’s not used to discerning his emotions well, but he knows the feelings of uncertainty & disgust well enough to know that it was a melding of the two. she wasn’t his partner, not in…the romantic sense nor the platonic sense ( he bristles at the thought, more so at the former ) but she was temporary &…he’ll inwardly ponder on that account. if he saw something more extended, maybe he wouldn’t be as willing to ream into her. ( or maybe sticking to your word & loyalty is prized above all for the male, & when this bear is poked — he sinks razor-edged teeth in ). ‘ and don’t start with the fuckin’ mio dio, it’s because you’re spanish and i can’t be loyal to the spanish bit, ’ his voice getting high and feminine as he mimicked the smaller girl, his face getting dangerously close to hers, studying her poker face, only making him more irate with her ( & it’s now when the more carnal part of him realizes that she’s exceptionally beautiful, if haughty, slightly irresponsible mob daughters were your type ). ‘ because you were given an order. yeah, princess, an order to work with me. and what did you fuckin’ do ? ’ he’s not going to sugarcoat anything because he wants solange to think about the position she put him in. ‘ fucked it up by interjecting your own damn commands because you’re so fucking smart, aren’t you ? you just needed to show everyone that you’re not some little girl who eats out of daddy’s hand, huh ? that you can handle the big kid stuff ? well, kid — if you think that by disregarding your own command is the way to go, ’ he’s closing in on his prey, canines brandishing & gnashing as he continues to speak, ‘ then i can see why your own father isn’t jumpin’ to give you a speck of power. ’ a sharp bark of laughter comes through gritted teeth, a shake of the head accompanying it. the next few words pierce through the air like daggers, and he hopes they twist into her core, wishing they drove pain through her as if he had driven a fist into her stomach. ‘ ’t’s funny. i would have never done the same to you, italiana. ‘n to think i was just starting to like you. ’
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