0 comments/ 11214 views/ 1 favorites Club Vice Ch. 01 By: CarnalxXxCravings "In order to know virtue we must first acquaint ourselves with vice." Marquis de Sade It was a sticky first day of summer. And here was Damien Nikola Gullucci Provenzano standing in a crowd of black clad mourners as they placed 'Vic' Vice six feet under the earth. It was a sad damn day in all respects. Not only a friend lost but also a great ally against the Genarelli. He tossed his Lucky to the dirt and ground it under a heel. "Best start shifting back toward the 'mo Nunzio. I highly doubt most of these weeping willows will stop the rain of tears. I saw them place him down, that is enough for me." He turned towards his left hand man. Nunzio Capadocian. These two were like David and Goliath as best friends. Damien stood a good six foot one but his frame was thin from stress and heritage. Nunzio towered six inches taller and was thick like congealed blood. A mass of muscles housed in black silk. Damien drew fingers across his own black Gucci double-breasted suit. Meticulous in all things was the boss. It was perhaps a quirk that kept him on top of most things. Obsessive attention to minor details. "Bring it around the front. I want to see Victoria as she places the final affects on the coffin." With her head bowed respectfully, Victoria clasped hands with a few people that stood next to her at the grave sight. Her bodyguard Andre had insisted that he attend with her, but Victoria wouldn't hear of it. A funeral was no place for a bodyguard in her opinion. This was something she had to do alone. And Andre was quite respectful of her wishes. He'd been under her father's employment for years and had been assigned to care for Victoria's safety. If she wished to mourn alone he couldn't slight her. Victoria was the picture perfect portrait of a daughter in mourning dressed in a fine black linen skirt suit by Versace. Elegantly kept blonde locks had been curled into a French knot and capped by a pillbox hat with the customary black fishnet pulled down to cover her delicate features. Tradition held that she should place something upon her father's casket before it was actually lowered, or perhaps toss something upon it before leaving. Smokey grey orbs focused on the smooth black top of the casket. Tilting her chin up she lowered her eyes and turned from the gaping hole. The spite still ran through her veins with a force greater than any other could imagine. She did little other than snub her deceased father. Crossing one lean leg over the other she cut through the crowd of people that surrounded the grave. Her gaze turned as cold as steel and her resolve grew even stronger. True in form to nature and the event of a funeral, the hazy atmosphere was spitting down droplets of rain that merely graced clothing but never really soaked in. Without saying a word she walked directly to her limousine and seated herself inside. A matter of seconds passed before the hissing sound of rolling tires on damp pavement marked her departure. Victoria seemed aloof, despondent, and not very caring of her father's untimely passing. Truth be known, she did care but not in the way most could recognize or understand. After all, she was now the sole heir to an estate that included a line of luxury hotels that spanned the country. Victor Vice had left his daughter with a multi-million dollar enterprise, and absolutely no roots to her family. She'd been raised by her father's staff without his presence in a sprawling mansion settled in New York. The day Victoria Oriel Vice was born there had been birthing complications and her mother had died. This was something that Victoria's father had never recovered from. Yes, he loved his daughter but it was always from afar. Victoria was the spitting image of her mother. And every time he looked at her he was reminded of the loss of his sweet and devoted wife. So he did what any pain inflicted man would do, he used his business and jet-set way of life as an excuse not to see his child. Regardless Victor Vice had seen to it that his daughter had the best money could buy. She had never been lacking in any form of care or opportunity. Victoria was bathed in luxury with the hope that such material caring could wash away the loss of his presence. It never had. Some would say what transpired instead was the growth of a gaping hole that would eventually make Victoria the jaded and reserved woman she is today. There had been a few happy times in her young life. While attending a top notch private Catholic School she had grown close to a girl her age by the name of Julie Remington. The girls were practically inseparable as children. On many occasions Victoria was invited to their family holiday celebrations and vacations as if she were a member. While residing in such a loving household the young toe-head was nicknamed Tori with parental affection. Through such relations Victoria had met Damien for the first time. He'd dated Julie during her junior and senior year in school. Although he was six years older than the girls he had managed to find approval with Julie's parents and attended most of the family functions as well, not to mention treating Victoria to a few dinners out with himself and Julie. Once Tori and Julie had graduated from school they'd lost touch and gone their separate ways. Tori managed to attend Harvard and earn a degree in advertising. In no time at all she found a job with a reputable firm as an assistant to an executive. Despite her father's name and clout Tori chose to start from the bottom up and work her way to the top. It was during one such opportunity that Tori got her first break. By chance she'd been given an assignment by her boss that had to be finish post haste. Tori had been given express orders to see that the photo shoot for the ad went forward without a hitch. As luck would have it the model hired for the job didn't show up and they needed someone quick. Tori stepped in and the rest is history. Her face became as famous as her father's line of Prestige Hotels. She was plastered on every billboard and magazine across the country. There had been offers from Playboy to do a photo shoot and Tori actually was in deep consideration concerning such an opportunity. It was priceless. She could kill two birds with one stone. Her career would be bolstered by the attention and she'd definitely get to her father with the nudity. Before such could happen, her father had died from a massive heart attack. Now here she was, attending his funeral full of venom and spite for the deceased. Tori gave her head a light shake to clear her mind. Everything was so confusing at the moment. It was too much at one time. More than anything she needed to rest and let things sink in. The entire funeral service was as much of a blur as the passing scenery outside the speeding limo. This day would forever be forged in her mind as a turning point in her life. It was the end of an era and the beginning of a new reign. Club Vice Ch. 02 Hands ran over his slicked back hair, normally he styled it loose with a few waves of darkness cresting his brow. Blue tinted irises observed the hasty retreat of the daughter. Thoughts swirled as to why she so snubbed her sire. He was a great man, personable to a fault. He could not fathom the need to insult Vic. Then a flashback struck the forefront of his cranium; a turn of a few years back when he was merely dating Julie instead of her being a kept doll. They were in the restaurant of a rival Family. Julie was decked out in a blue silk strapless number showing class mingled with sensuality. Victoria had been the best friend along for a good time. Never did she mention her father except in tightly squeezed out terms. The trio had wined and dined for an hour. Carefree times only had during ones youth that seemed like they would last forever. In the later hours as the pair of girls felt the effects of booze, the future capo snuck his way to the back to conduct business. Dirty deeds a curious Victoria should never have seen... Other memories passed in music video fashion, fleeting and indistinct. He shook his head to clear away the distraction, sending a few tiny droplets of dew in an arc. The Vice family limo sped off into the main throughway as Nunzio brought the sleek grey Mercedes into the now vacant spot. Damien was rather impatient in motion. The back door was opened and loudly slammed into its housing before Nunzio could exit. "Follow her Nun, but at a safe pecking distance. I want to ask the inheritance queen a few questions. Is it going to be business as usual? Or is she ... clean?" He grinned like a panther sighting prey. White ivories gleamed in the rearview mirror as Nunzio sent them traipsing after Victoria. Nunzio had recognized that dangerous look in Damien's eye. The look always shown right before a new girl was corrupted from cotton into leather. The driving wise guy shook his head as the back up boys raced to get into their cars to follow the capo. Damien flicked his vision over a shoulder to observe the bodyguards. His rule was always for them to remain at a distance and note every individual before they got close. And well... if they managed to get by the thugs, Damien always had a Heckler and Koch 9mm right over his stomach. He leaned back to prop Yemeni loafers on the seats in front of him. Another Lucky was snaked out of its soft pack and lit. Soon Victoria Vice would have to stop. And he would catch up with her... in all meanings of the word. Victoria's limo sped up through the winding roads until it reached a busy interstate and finally merged into a steady flow of traffic. She sat well poised in her seat without a single tear botching her perfectly placated mask. How dare he die now. She'd had a childhood full of regret and absence to serve back to him upon a silver platter. Somehow it just didn't seem right. Her father had left her empty and alone with these feelings and no chance to ever quench them. But hadn't she always been alone? He hadn't been there for her. It was never lost on her as a child. She knew she was basically strewn about to the families of her friends. And for some reason they never ask her how her father was or where he was at the time. It had all been set up. He'd managed her life from afar. And that's how she had always seen him... from afar, like a bad episode of Charlie's Angels and the ominous Charlie. Her father never physically played a major role in her life and he was all she had. It was quite pitiful. But through it all Victoria had been lucky enough to spend most of her time with her friend Julie and her family. They had always made her feel as if she were a part of their home life. It was just a crying shame that she knew better and had actually missed her father. No matter how well she'd been taken care of there was always a hole that was never quite filled. She needed her father and had always been denied. It took a toll on a person. And despite the fact that Victoria had never been a rebellious child, it damn sure hadn't made up for the fact that she had turned out to be a somewhat cynical woman that was on a mission to bring her father down. That's how it had all started. Bringing him down was a satisfying thought. But it wasn't good enough just to see him in ruin, nor would it be easy since he owned every Prestige Hotel in this country and a few abroad. No, instead Victoria had made sure to plaster her nearly nude body on every billboard in the nation. The scandal was small but it was a start at least. Where she was with her career at this current time, well it was hard to tell. For now too many emotions were still simmering in her mind. Emotions that she refused to think about while still in the public eye. Without a word from her lips, the limo sped through the city and slowed to a stop outside the Prestige Hotel in New York City. Before she knew it, the limo was enshrouded by a darkness that matched her somber mood. The low beams of the vehicle washed the concrete parking garage wall with a luminosity that grew brighter with their approach. Victoria waited patiently for the driver to park and open her door. She'd been here many times before. Her usual rooms were located on the top floor, the penthouse suite of the Prestige Hotel. Her father had given her rule over the top floor and Victoria had taken advantage of it to the up most. Designers came and went until the penthouse was converted into a palace that hovered over the city. Every room from the dining room to the bedroom was detailed to her explicit tastes, including the private pool just a few steps away from her quarters. It was within those rooms that Victoria would seek solace. She'd made sure she would have no visitors. And as if sensing her arrival Andre was waiting at the private entrance in the parking garage. Once the driver had opened her door she swung slim legs from the limo and casually walked toward the private entry. "I take it everything went well Miss?" Grey orbs slid up to look at him from the corner of her darkly lined eyes. "Yes of course Andre. And please can't we drop the Miss? I haven't been called Miss since I was fourteen. It's time to let it slide." The curve of her hips swayed against black linen as she walked past him into the entrance. The black marbled floor was shiny enough to show undergarments if a person had half a thought to look hard enough. Andre simply bowed his head, the long dark ponytail that neatly hung down his back inched up barely before returning to its normal place. The man dressed entirely in black and seemed to never stray from the color or lack thereof. Although he was well dressed, he rarely varied from the tight t-shirt and slacks look. The dainty clacking of steps finally stopped. He knew then that she'd reached the carpeted area before the confidential elevator. Waving the limo driver off, Andre shut the door and locked it. Within a few seconds he trailed behind her like a long shadow catching up with the form it was cast from. Not that Tori noticed. She seemed to be lost in her thoughts at the moment. As usual Andre didn't say a word. He'd adopted this quiet demeanor around her. It was more of a quiet brooding manner that made it clear to the young woman that he had a job to do and he'd do it no matter what. Her protection was first and foremost. Obsidian eyes that never seemed to miss a beat noted her black attire in the form of linen. As usual she was stunning from head to toe. She'd never hear a word about it from Andre. Of course he spoke with her on a daily basis. But never on a personal level that would provoke feelings. He knew everything about her. Every entrance and exit she made wasn't executed without his presence or call. Now they stood side by side in the elevator as it made the long trek upward through the inner workings of the hotel. Victoria coursed her hand up behind her head and unfastened the pin that traveled within the coil of blonde locks. Once she'd grasped the pill box hat, she gave her head a quick shake to expand curling blonde tendrils that drifted over her shoulders and down her back. "It's good to be home." she sighed softly towards Andre. With a dull pinging tone that was barely audible to her ears the elevator announced their arrival upon the top floor. To Be Continued... Club Vice Ch. 03 Damien had been stuck in traffic behind Victoria's limo for far too long. Finally the Fiat they trailed slowed right in front of the local Prestige. The capo bolted up from his seat with a Lucky standing out from the corner of his lips, muffling a touch of his words. "Damn... not ten minutes and already she is stepping up to slip behind Daddy's big desk. Nunzio! Bring us around the back to the lower level garage. I want bella aurita to have ten minutes lead." He gritted his teeth loud enough to raise the fine hairs on Nunzio`s neck and pulled out his cell to send out the command for the guards to enter the hotel quietly; like they could ever do that. The mooks seemed to revel in being idiots. Silent was beyond them. Oh their eyes were good, and they could intimidate a shark. But only Nunzio seemed capable of higher thoughts. Snapping his cell phone shut, Damien flung it against the backseat beside himself so sure fingers could start undoing his suit. He had a dozen outfits in the limo. His jacket and tie were tossed to the left to crumple. He'd never wear that again. To him it was a jinx to wear funeral clothes past the time of the burial. Uncle Santino had done such a thing, wearing them to a second wake. He had a coronary the very next day. The toss of clothing was simply proof that Damien had been brought up with strict Catholicism dipped in a thick portion of superstition. Bare to the chest, Damien took a second to thumb the pink scar from the last time he was shot. Right in the hip had gone the slug. It had spun the olive skinned man to the curb. Nunzio had of course put three holes in the head of the Yak, then the required two more in his privates. Provenzano rules said the boss killers got two shots in the Jimmy as warning not to fuck with the Family. Damien often followed the example of his grandfather. Fat Johnny's name still struck fear such that only Damien mentioned him aloud. He slipped off his loafers and slacks. Sitting in navy silk boxers, the capo planned exactly how he might approach the daughter of his friend. He selected the casual sleek blazer and accompanying slacks. They were dark brown to acknowledge the mourning period, but warm enough in tone to seem friendly. He laughed softly to himself, Tori was hardly a fool. But if she was caught up in emotion her intuition might be clouded. He slid the slacks over his toned runner's legs. The silent reverie was broken when they found a parking spot. Nunzio exited the vehicle and quickly came around the side of the limo to open the door. Damien got out sliding his blazer on with his eyes shifting to the security camera monitoring the lot. He blew it a kiss with a twinkle in his eye. Nunzio sighed softly but waited for his boss to calm down enough to get formal. Damien always got this way when first meeting females. He was not a player per se. He had only really kept Julie because she had loved him. Nothing went back to her in return, not that it mattered to him. Victoria was the prize to conquer now. And her dowry was substantial enough to warrant manipulating her in that fashion...into his devoted pet. He chuckled heavily and motioned for Nunzio to follow behind him on the way toward the parking garage entrance. The cocky leader of the Provenzano Family strode inside and directly up to the elevator doors and stood there as if he owned the place, cutting the staff a look that demanded they step back before they even thought about taking a step forward. The security detail there gave them a knowing once over. The old man seemed to have recognition in his tired eyes. Damien gave the old rent-a-cop a soft smile that never quite reached his eyes. The doors pinged open with the old man edging far away from Damien. The pair slipped past the parted silver doors and turned to face the lobby. "I hate it when you do that Nikola. Old man did nothing to ya. I bet his adult diapers are full now." There were very few allowed to call Damien by his middle name. In fact only those who shared his bed or his childhood were given permission. A tisking sound was audible over the rock music flowing from the elevator speakers. Damien admired the tailoring of his rich coffee colored blazer with hands that skimmed over the fabric. Having found a small stray fiber, it was flicked from his left cuff with a low growl. Only then did he address his trusted lieutenant. "Nun, try to remember how much rumor counts. If the old guy goes to the local alchy and mouths off, all the better. The lower fish should recognize a shark in their midst. However let me tell you, I was more than willing to cap him to see how the girl reacts to brutality. I knew her a few years ago, but times change Nun. She shimmers like an ice princess. Cold as Rod's mother's cooking." The two laughed heartily at the inside joke. Roderick's mother had just sent them a homemade key lime pie which was served cold unlike most confectionaries. Too bad they finished off Rod the day after the last piece of pie was eaten by Nunzio. His mother might have gifted them some more. The elevator pinged and opened right below the penthouse. Just as the level security man opened his mouth to ask a question, Nunzio`s fist shot out to crack his teeth. Damien chuckled at his buddies antics. Clever fingers pried open the button panel. Just as he suspected the penthouse circuit was there, just unoccupied by a direct switch. A simple clip job and boom number one was rerouted to the topmost of the Prestige. Nunzio closed the doors after pushing the moaning security goon out of their way while Damien checked his blazer for the third time in less than five minutes. It was still immaculate as he expected. A thumb crushed in the first button sending the duo up. Damien hummed along with the next thread of music before spitting out a command to his guy. "Nunzio, don't break Andre. He will have to hold you back. Don't worry. I don't think she will shoot me." He grinned wide as the elevator doors slid open. Nunzio stepped out first, adjusting his driver's hat. Over time it had become a nervous affection the big man did before each up coming fight. Damien casually trailed behind, straightening his back with an appearance of confidence. Instantly his air of dark humor evaporated and was replaced with a cutthroat CEO's superior march to a boardroom. He neatly tucked his hands behind his back to clasp each wrist. The expression on his face now might shiver the weaker hearted. It was often the expression he wore when sending a bullet into a rival gang member's chest. Nunzio made it to the carpet. The clack of his thick brown boots abruptly ended. "Andre! I would like to make a visit." Damien barked out towards the known Vice family lackey as they caught up with the couple standing at the entrance to the Penthouse Suite. No sooner had the words been barked into the foyer than Victoria whipped around momentarily stopping in her tracks with golden locks sweeping into curls around her neck. Andre took that moment to step directly in front of her. "Who in the hell is that Andre?" Grey orbs swept up to her protector who had already made his move toward the two. He stopped straight in front of Damien and pulled his shoulders back to make an already broad chest seem wider. "I don't believe you have an appointment." His words were dark and gruff as he stood as a most definite obstacle that would hinder any movement toward Victoria. Stern obsidian eyes didn't trail from the man in front of him but rather held an uncompromising gaze that meant business. "Not another step further." he muttered toward the other intruder. "I'll lay him flat Sir." he murmured toward Damien. Victoria looked upon the scene and the moving men with a look of surprise that was mildly perturbed. "We really need to beef up security around here Andre. I don't know how these thugs got up here but I expect you to dispose of them and quickly." Turning on her heel she opened the doors to her suite and stalked off toward her bedroom, leaving Damien gawking in her wake. The interior or her bedroom was one of discriminating taste and usually set others back once they'd entered Tori's private world. It was a literal world of faultless gold and shades of ivory with light toned wood. Vaulted ceilings and vaulted wood panels with gold trim created the entirety of the room. The furniture that was expertly placed around the room made sure comfort was a priority. The entire Master Bedroom was an oasis of rest. Lifting one leg she slipped off one pump and removed the other once her stocking clad foot had been firmly placed upon the floor. Soft padding steps took her further into her abode and away from the cluttering sound of men left to deal with one other. Both shoes dangled from her fingertips, swaying with supple steps that led her to her massive walk in closet. "I understand Andre. And I never let any of my guys past the foyer when her father stood atop the nest. And I will be just as polite to you as I was back then." A casual flick of Damien's wrist motioned Nunzio to go and take a seat beside the elevator. The cold expression turned back upon Andre. "Lead me to her. I absolutely must make my condolences to Vic's daughter. Honor demands it Andre. I swear my hands will remain in clear sight. Just tell her who I am, and I wish to speak of my many years of patronage with her father." He tilted his head, leaning in close to whisper into Andre's ear. "And if that works nothing, mention I want to hear her plans now that the rat bastard rots where he belongs." The devilish eyed capo straightened himself once the words had left his mouth. The blazer was also given attention as a slightly startled Andre composed himself. Damien could tell what might at least peak the girl's interest. If that got him nowhere, Julie would be called on his cell and told to offer sympathies and invoke memories of a happier period of her life. He lifted a manicured hand before his eyes to check for chips. When the bodyguard of the underwear model did not budge, blue eyes narrowed. "Don't tell me you have a problem leaving me here in plain view while you wander over to her closed door? Paranoia suits you not at all big man. Just give the messages to Miss Vice so my many other appointments are able to be kept." There was a look in Damien's eyes that brooked no protests. Either you followed his wishes or else he found a way to make you pay dearly for the choice. The capo glared until Andre was forced to reluctantly wander over to Victoria's door. He kept both men in front vision while a hand lightly edged towards his desert eagle. "Miss...?" Calling from within her bedroom she answered Andre with a soft tone that sounded somewhat weary, "Yes Andre?" Both shoes toppled to the floor with a soft sigh. The pillbox hat in her other hand was dropped upon a fine tapestry settee with the linen jacket now neatly draped over the curved arm. A light plopping sound could be heard on the other side of the door as she finally sat down upon the settee conveniently placed just outside her closet. "A Mr. Damien Provenzano wishes to convey his regards on the death of your father. If I recall, didn't you know him from school Miss?" Andre felt the edge of sweat begin to form across his brow. This was beyond the ken for too many bad things going wrong. First Mr. Vice dies and then Victoria is exposed to the seamier side of her father's dealings. And Damien Provenzano was as shady as any man could be. Some rumors spoke of how he slew his father's best friend to pave the way to being over boss of the mob. Andre still kept a wary eye on both of the men. Hopefully Victoria would command them sent off. Running a hand through her silken locks, she sighed again and then perched both elbows on her knees causing the black silk blouse she wore to conform to the gentle slope of her back. "I don't wish to see anyone. Surely he can understand this. Get rid of him however you see fit Andre. I'm not up to having any visitors today." Damn couldn't a person mourn or relax for that matter? For some reason that name was absolutely niggling at her brain. Damien...Provenzano...ahhhh yes! He was Julie's old boyfriend from school that she'd known as Nikola. It had been years since she'd seen him. But why was he here now? That was rather puzzling. "Wait Andre! I'll see him. Show him to the sitting room and I'll be along shortly." Victoria didn't bother changing or putting her shoes back on. She was in her own home and at a time like this she frankly didn't care how she looked. Andre gave a curt nod, even though his lady boss could not see. Nunzio snickered in the background forcing Damien to glance back and give his left hand the exact glare sent towards Andre. Nunzio shut up straight away and turned his eyes to the floor. Nobody had fully stood up to Damien ever since the incident when he broke ten bones in Giorgio's hand. The thing about that was that it was one bone a minute. It had been meticulously spaced out for the ten times Damien had seen him take a swig of rum when he was supposed to be casing a joint for cops. Andre cleared his throat then turned towards the sitting room. Damien strode after him only to stop early and take a seat. A Lucky was brought out of his pocket, lit and puffed while the woman made ready to receive a guest. Damien reviewed the last time he had seen the woman in person. Of course he had seen her at the funeral, but that was hardly a talk. Instead his mind drifted over the thick memory of the last time they spoke. At Vetichini`s restaurant. Right after the incident... TO BE CONTINUED... Club Vice Ch. 04 4 Victoria just had to wonder why Damien insisted on visiting with her at this very moment. Perhaps he was just going to pay his respects, or not. It really didn't matter to Victoria. Her attitude was sour to begin with and it only got worse when she felt forced into meetings with others when they hadn't been scheduled. Walking straight from her bedroom toward the sitting room she padded inside and stood before Damien. "So the vultures begin to sweep." Grey orbs locked on the man seated before her. "I don't believe this should take us too long. Thank you for paying your respects. And no I'm not selling. You may reach the door once you're retraced your steps. It was nice seeing you once again, but I find time is simply wasted on reminiscing and I'm a very busy woman. Good day Mr. Provenzano." The smirk barely graced her soft pink lips as she spoke. But Victoria was quite sure her words had hit the mark. "Well that is hardly a way to greet a friend of your father, and really not very business like." he sent a stream of smoke in her direction with his words. Damien's eyes had softened from the glares given to the pair of thugs off to the side but still held a certain disrespect. This female was his inferior in most respects. Yet here she stood like a veritable angel of order dismissing a petioning child waiting to ask God if kittens get into heaven. "As a ten percent holder in the Prestige Company I do have a certain amount of your time to be granted. Your father is in the dirt and you disregard him as non-consequential in your life. Fine but you should illustrate a sufficient amount of respect for your father to have manners regarding his old friends and partners." He spoke his last words not so much as advice, but a command he expected carried out. Gray eyes narrowed into mere slits before returning to normal. "I know of no such business dealings with you Mr. Provenzano and hardly care to do any future business with you either. As I mentioned before, the door awaits your graceful exit, don't disappoint me." Every nerve in her body was on edge. There was something about the man that literally made her blood boil. Was it the handsome line of his jaw or those piercing icy blue eyes? Victoria wasn't sure at the moment what it was that irked her more than usual. "If you'll excuse me I believe it's time to remove myself from the presence of a felon, whether tried and convicted or not. Once again Mr. Provenzano, I bid you a good day." This time Victoria had the gall to turn from Damien's seated form and allow him the sight of her rolling shoulders as she walked across the small room. He took the cigarette from his mouth and stubbed it out on the arm of her fancy couch. She could hear the sizzle of chartreuse behind her. Damien stood up in a slow manner, at the same speed at which Victoria crossed the marble floor to walk toward her bedroom. Her well shaped legs were still ensconced in the fine hosiery that she donned for her father's funeral, and he couldn't help but gaze down at the fine form that was attempting to leave his presence. He shifted his shoulders to loosen stiff muscles. One step was taken in the direction of the leaving female. "Turn around, we are not finished." Six words were spoken softly but with the authority of a Mafioso well acquainted with being obeyed. His arms went behind his back as the man stood with a poise and dignity that was simply the residuals of his years in strict Catholic prep schools. Even though she didn't stop, Victoria felt the frigid grip of his words twist deep inside of her. No one had dared speak to her in such a manner. A finely arched brow shot up when the audacity of his words sunk in. Knowing full well how her actions would be felt, Victoria didn't turn and hold Damien's gaze as she spoke. She took one step further and then stopped. "You disrespect me with your over handed manner Mr. Provenzano. You sweep into my home and demand to see me when it's been made aware to you that I'm not receiving visitors. I beg your pardon but I do believe it is you who doesn't quite understand when he's finished. I on the other hand understand completely. Furthermore, I'm not one of your men that will just stop and obey or come at your beck and call. Think again lest you waste more of your precious time." "Tori, I would never treat you as one of my men." He gave her a light smile; a slick gesture which both of them knew held nothing behind it. Damien motioned towards Nunzio and Andre conversing quietly near the double door entrance to the Penthouse. "Were you one of them, I'd have painfully reminded you exactly who is at the top of the food chain." He bowed to her with mockery. As a child he had played many a Shakespearian role. "Though my time is especially precious, I have taken this occasion to visit an old friend thrust into something she may not be fully prepared for... no matter how clever I know her to be." He took two steps that brought him but half a foot away from her rigid form. He sent a hand to straighten his slicked back hair, a strand had come free as he stood. "Now... shall we discuss what you plan on doing as owner? I would despair if my investment was wasted due to a childish vendetta to run daddy's precious company into the ground." His bold gaze stared directly into her back without wavering. Now her mettle was to be tested. He knew her enough to foresee anger creeping into her body language. Indeed her shoulders tensed and her blood ran cold. Swiftly turning to face him she reared back and slapped him soundly upon the cheek. Victoria couldn't help but glare at Damien as his face took a violent turn to the right. The air around them crackled with tension as she stood there with her chest heaving, a literal blazing hellion full of vim and vigor. Damien's head slowly returned to grace her with once cool blue eyes that had grown many shades darker. A hand went up to his cheek to feel the skin throb with the slight discomfort from the slap. But the real churn was inside. His pride had been wounded in this last exchange of words, and a female had dared to lay a hand to him. Worse yet she wasn't backing up and cowering. "How dare you. My father's grave is yet to be turned over and you're already here on business. And you dare to call me Tori as if we were still friends and hadn't had years with no communication between us. You overstep bounds you are unsure of Mr. Provenzano. I suggest you think about this further." Her words were seething with venom; she did little to hide the revulsion that was flowing freely. "You disgust me. Andre...see Mr. Provenzano out and do so now!", eyes as hard as granite bore into the man before she turned on her heel to depart. Let him stew in his own juices, she thought to herself while walking from the sitting room. He'd broken men's arms for less than Victoria's slap. In fact, he had broken women's arms as well. Lips tightened across Damien's face and before Andre could stride across the sitting room, Damien's loafers were clacking on ivory marble in tandem to the softer padding of Victoria's feet. His right hand snaked out to take hold of her shoulder. "Vai in culo tu gnacchera! Nobody and I mean nobody disrespects me like that! You will fucking return to the meeting or I will see this precious hotel is ruined. Do you understand? I will see to it that it will be run into the ground and the rubble pissed on, Victoria!" A grand sneer crested his lips. She was just another case of ill-mannered chattel to him. Too bad Vic hadn't sired a son. A man could always be reasoned with. A man would know when to fear. A woman... well the fear had to be firmly ingrained within her inferior form. Be it with words or a belt to the backside. This concept was another lesson mined from his childhood spent with a harsh grandfather. His grandmother was kept demure, never looking up at a man unless spoken to clearly. So deep, dark blue eyes glared at this blonde who acted mannish. Were she not acting the bitch, Damien might have felt the urge to move upon her. Delicate cheekbones and come-hither eyes spoke of wonders perhaps shared in her bed. This was a thought he shifted to the back of his mind as the presence of Andre growing alarmed could be sensed behind him. Bold and cocky, Damien waited for the mistress of the house to turn. Reflexively he half brought his arm up to ready a block. Turning slightly Victoria lashed out, "Look! I don't give a good god damn who you think you are! You'll replace my couch and you'll leave here without another harsh word to me is that understood? You are in my home after a time in my life that I require to be left alone. Those that trod where they shouldn't get what they deserve. Now kindly leave!" The look in Victoria's eyes proved that she meant what she said as she tore her shoulder from Damien's grip. She was used to calling the shots in her realm. There wasn't a person around that could tell her what to do or how to do it. When you grow up beneath a staff that takes orders, you learn how to appoint tasks and make sure they are carried through. Victoria had always been a kind child. But she had learned through the absence of her father, how to take control. Grey eyes that raged with a tumultuous storm lifted to glance at Andre over Damien's shoulder. One hand pressed into her hip as she regarded not Damien but rather her bodyguard. "See him out." she murmured with all of the warmth of an ice queen. "I believe I've had enough excitement for one day. I'm going to retire to my room and slip into a hot bath. See that no one else bothers me Andre." Finally, Victoria leveled her gaze on Damien and cocked her head to the side. Indeed fine features had earned her a vied for place upon the billboards and upon covers of magazines. Not a single line of worry or reluctance creased her brow. Even though she was standing up to the man her insides felt like a viable glob of mush. Roving eyes glanced at the reddened mark upon Damien's cheek. With a slight huffing sound she produced a smirk that said it all. Golden locks cascaded over her shoulder as she turned slowly and gave Damien a view of her backside while she once again proceeded to leave the room. Andre placed a hand upon Damien's shoulder in a less threatening gesture than what the capo displayed. "I am afraid you have to go Mr. Provenzano. You have outlived your welcome sooner than normal it seems." a deep voice reverberated close to Damien. Just looking at Damien in close proximity brought back memories of Damien's father. He had been Andre's first 'boss' so to speak. It was amazing how the younger Provenzano resembled his father's better qualities while he behaved like such a strong hand. "As a sign of my favor with you Victor, I give over one of my best men. Andre will serve you better than he could me. He'll watch over your daughter like a loyal hound ever watchful for dangerous strangers." spoke Tony Provenzano, Damien's father. Those words still rang true in Andre's memory and he'd only been twenty-eight at the time. Andre gave Damien a smile that exuded a respect for Victoria that wouldn't be crossed. And Andre's knowing smile told Damien that he recalled how the boss had previously respected this house better when Mr. Vice had been alive. Yet he also knew Damien would not fault him that barb. All ill intent was upon Victoria. The lackey would be ignored as merely the hands that enforced Victoria's will. The capo still violently shrugged off Andre's grip. "Vaffanculo! I can see my own self out Andre. Go polish another apple." Damien was pissed beyond any previous inflaming. She dared to bring up the right of her situation. Honor and face called for him to let her have the grieving period. If the lesser members of the Family knew he rode the girl so soon, his authority would be in jeopardy. Certain rules had to be followed. One of which was never touch another when mourning. Nunzio would never say anything. He knew better. The simpering bitch was taking liberties with a smirk and walking away from the capo. Fortunately Victoria knew little of Mafioso culture. She could not call him out on his actions of this night. Damien's teeth loudly ground together and he could feel himself slipping. The tightly held control nearly fell from his grip when he confronted this Vice girl. His Julie would have to feel the brunt of his emotions tonight. At the thought of how she might whimper in protest, a grin spread across his face. "Are ya ready to head back to the car Nikola?" Nunzio asked quietly of his boss. The dark mood expressed gave Nunzio pause. When Damien got like this people could be hurt. He looked past Andre to see her ladyship fade into another room. Hot as hell, and just as set for damnation. The big guy followed behind his boss out of the double doors and into the elevator. "Fuck... ya gonna start a harem now?" he chided his boss after the doors shut. "No... she is too valuable in other ways to be just another doll Nun. I am going to have to plan on taming that bitch so we can clean more cash through here. You think some kibble will do the trick?" Both men laughed hard as the elevator took them back towards the parking garage. Once the door to her bedroom had been shut she slid down the smooth surface to the floor, buried her head in both hands and sobbed quietly for the first time since she'd learned of her father's untimely death. It felt as if all hope was gone. Sure she'd had it in her mind to make him pay for the loss she felt as a child. But deep down in Victoria's heart she had intended to seek her father out and tell him how she really felt. To perhaps give them both some sort of closure on the past. That would never be. It wasn't like her to feel this way, so vulnerable and lost. Sure, she knew what she wanted to do with her father's empire. Those plans would be set into action soon enough. Time had a way of slipping through your fingers no matter how hard you tried to grasp it. It was time to let go and move on. And indeed that was what she was going to do. Giving her eyes a quick rub with the back of her hand she stood and walked directly into her bathroom to draw a bath. A good long soak would make her feel better and give her a chance to clear her mind. The Prestige Hotel of New York City would never be the same once she made the changes she'd planned. But tomorrow was another day, today she was going to spend the rest of her time alone and try to bury the past in some dark vestige never to be turned over again. Twelve months later, Damien was still pissed at himself. The two guys supposedly watching the Prestige would have to be shot. Over the summer shut down Victoria had retooled the entire damn building. The papers were calling it 'the artistic masterpiece of underground dance culture' and 'the club that hit every vice twice'. Furthermore tonight was the grand opening. Nunzio was sitting across from him in a suit and tie reading that same article in the Times. Damien growled while adjusting his tie for the fifth time. A mirror would definitely have to be placed in the back of the limo. He could hardly straighten the thing by mere touch. And asking Nun about it would only get a noncommittal grunt. The lug knew him too well. Giorgio had received another bone break due to making a poor comment on Damien's clothing for that particular night. Nunzio was not immune to getting a clobbering either. And being the lieutenant he would have to stand still during the strikes, which was another Provenzano family rule. It proved the strength of the lieutenant while showing the pure authority of the capo. The limo found a curb spot with hearty driving by Lionel. The old man had proven himself over and over. It would seem that years evading the cops had given him a few speed tricks. Damien opened his own door to stride upon the red carpet. Photo flashes went off a few dozen times. He'd be worried if not for the front of being a wealthy owner of check cashing outlets. Wise Cash was kept clean from the other less savory activities as a tax shelter. Any intake of money could be easily explained away due to the legal predatory lending. He marched up the red strip with Nunzio trailing behind in full bodyguard mode. This time he'd have a very long talk with Victoria. After all he was technically a business partner. A full ten percent of the Prestige chain belonged to him for favors done. The senior Vice had responded generously to favors done in respect to his competition. That this young model had converted the New York building into a light flashing home for drug fiends and sexual deviants... it angered him to the point of shaking. She was supposed to be a little rich girl turned model, a veritable air head. Actually she was barely beyond the level of airhead if the hype was to be believed. Damien of course knew her intelligence rose above the common masses. He was however reluctant to consider the woman an equal. Then how could she have so quickly morphed the Prestige into something that appeared only in his fevered dreams? No airhead could do all of this. In fact she'd one-upped him. That was the exact reason Damien was thoroughly pissed beyond reason. This was his vocation, his field of expertise, and his domain. Victoria had no right to turn his world upside down. The capo was literally fuming but turned the negative energy within. He knew her reasons for creating such devious changes within the hotel. She was getting back at daddy by ruining what he had worked hard to create. The hotel had an S&M dungeon in there, so Giorgio had told him. A corpse had to be spinning on satin padding right about now. That thought was rather fleeting compared to the idea of where Miss Vice was keeping herself at this instant. ~~~ Giving herself the once over before leaving her rooms, Victoria took a moment to reflect on everything that had transpired. It had been the hardest twelve months of her life. The critics had been great in number once the news came out that she was converting the hotel into a virtual nightclub and hot spot. But it was more than that. It was a one spot stop and drop. It touted every delicacy and amenity anyone could ask for. The largest Casino in New York resided upon the third floor, the entire third floor, and the dance club itself was on the tenth floor. Beneath the foundation resided a shopping mall that sprawled out for miles and catered to every shopping whim man or woman could think of. There was no reason to leave the hotel. Clothing, food, resources, entertainment...you name it Club Vice had it. That had been a whole other scenario, changing the name of this particular Prestige Hotel location. It was worded so that Club Vice took the main position and Prestige came secondary. In Victoria's eyes this was quite fitting. She was going to reign supreme. And according to her backers, they'd make sure their investment didn't falter. The entire hotel had been revamped with up to date furnishings as well as board rooms and meeting rooms that met the requirements of the most discriminating guests. The place held a touch of class to it that managed to cover the fact that it also catered to every vice known to man. From the sprawling black marbled entry and long dark art deco halls, to the finest chintz and leather money could buy, Victoria had spared little concerning her creative rights. The walls were covered with midnight brocade wallpaper and lined with prints from various artists old and new. The lobby and every floor of the high rise hotel touted fresh flowers in golden vases set at intervals that were particularly dominated by the elegant white calla lily. Even the rooms offered by the Prestige were fully refurbished. The tone for the entire establishment was one of dark and elegant tastes. To say the least it was a lush atmosphere that catered to the most cultivated discernment. Club Vice Ch. 04 The previous staff of the Prestige had been replaced by a younger more vibrant crew. Everyone dressed within the new dress code as well. The attire they were outfitted in was a uniform of sorts but with more of a flare for fashion. The ladies wore a line of clothing ranging from a two-piece sleek black tunic with a side slit and silver buckle details and matching sleek trousers; or a line of dresses that varied from form fitting stretch black lace with a dusting of subtle sequins to the classic little black dress. The men were also given a line of black suits and uniforms that served them well from the tight fitting black silk shirts to the finely pressed slacks. The Club Vice staff alone was sure to bring the primal vibes out in any man or woman. A singular golden pin that touted the Vice logo separated the Vice staff from the clientele. Every employee within the casino and dance club was instructed to wear the pin with the express direction that the pin alone designated them as staff with benefits. The pin itself had a tiny microchip in it that touted security for the employee with a tracking system that was installed by the head of security himself, Andre. With this in place, the security staff could find anyone within the club wearing the registered pin. The word on the pin was hush hush, and if any employee let the word slip the entire code had to be changed and the employee would be terminated. Every t was crossed and every i was dotted. All employees signed an agreement of silence or they were never hired to begin with. Victoria had made sure she was well within her legal rights in instructing her staff on wording and the offering of services. Some areas of Club Vice actually required its guests to sign wavers that they wouldn't and couldn't hold the hotel accountable for injuries sustained during "play". It was perfect and of course constructed with taste as well as pleasure in mind. Those seeking a good time for the right price could find it at Club Vice. Victoria ran her fingers through her long blonde tresses as she stood to her full height. The black strapless chiffon gown that adorned her form was more than tight and flattered every curve upon her lithe body. It was Old Hollywood style and deserved an Oscar for its elegant lines and flowing layers of chiffon. The dress was boned for shape with a knot detail that draped to the hemline and sported a front slit that ran completely up to her upper thigh. Her black satin sling backs with rhinestones matched and finished the ensemble much to her delight. With a flurry of both hands she entwined her silken tresses and piled them high atop her head in a massive golden haven. Not a single strand escaped the tight hold that was fastened with a few rhinestone pins. The finishing touch was a quick yet light spray of perfume. Tugging at her dress to assure the fit was perfect she stepped from her dressing room and strode toward the elevator. The elegant line of her firm leg escaped from the flowing chiffon and gave the perfect view of a body that had managed to earn the woman top dollar in her modeling forum. As usual, Andre was waiting patiently and smiled when he saw her enter the room. "Ready to greet the masses Tori?" Offering him the brightest smile she could she nodded and gushed with a nervous sound that had managed to endear her to the big lugs heart. "I'm as ready as I'll ever be." A slender hand reached out to skim the line of Andre's tuxedo jacket. She winked at him and showed her appreciation for his attire. Linking his arm with hers he escorted her to the elevator and the crowd below. Damien approached grand double doors that were swept open for him by two doormen dressed in tuxedos. The elder set of doors had been replaced with gargantuan brass work gates. They were adorned with swirls of delightful depictions of satyrs, devils and other legendary foils running amuck. The nudity was tastefully displayed yet very blatant in the message of Club Vice. He could not help but start to gather a certain respect for Victoria. Whispering under his breath, "Damn her." as he entered the establishment. Inside the main hall had been transformed into something more likely found in black and white Hollywood epics of decadent wealth. Shimmering floors of imported marble and staircases to the next level were no longer the faux decoration. Everything had been revamped, even the baggage handlers wore something akin to uniforms as roses were akin to daisies. Artwork of a classical or neoclassical bent adorned the walls leading into the main lobby. If Damien's eyes did not deceive him, a few of those works seemed to be authentic Donatellos. Certainly her taste had vastly improved since the days Victoria accompanied him and Julie on romps through the Five Burroughs. One might mistake Tori for having been the fashion designer and not merely the pretty moving manikin they draped the clothing over. His lieutenant gasped behind him so much, Damien was tempted to turn on him with a backhand ready. But they were in public. The face had to be shown of the well to do investor come legal loan shark. To strengthen that image, a black pinstripe suit had been tailored with elegant touches. Underneath he wore a brilliant white shirt with heavy sleeves coming past the edge of the suits cuffs. Solid gold cuff links of a lean leaf shape sporting a collection of sapphires mimicking dew, fastened each shirtsleeve and added an air of class to the man. The buttons of the suit had also been redone in gold, a single tiny sapphire adorning them as well. Out of the breast pocket protruded a blue silk handkerchief folded in a diamond shape. The tie however was rich grey in matching tone to the stripes in the suit. The thick hair on his head was left in waves with his bangs showing a major growth since he last visited Victoria. Nunzio matched him in color, if not style. The large thug had been placed in a 1930's era suit with deep navy blue slacks and coat over a light grey shirt. Atop his head sat an old style fedora. Nunzio always kept a hat. His one claim to vanity was a bald spot creeping wider each year. So the left hand man hid the bare skin under covering. The two weaved through the crowds with practiced ease. Before Damien had successfully claimed Family Head, he had been one of those individuals who fished targets out of flocks of people right along with Nunzio. Concerts, clubs, churches... it mattered little to them. It was Damien's way of working to the top to prove his strength and dominance. Approaching the obvious clearing towards the back Damien did a double take at her reconstruction of the elevator casings. It seemed the woman had a fancy for Post World War II decor. Yet everything was still perceived to be decorated in modern concepts. Automated Teller Machines didn't exist back in the day. But here she had a couple skillfully located on each wall. No doubt a reservoir for gamblers and johns to claim enough cash to feed their respective... vices. Damn if the woman had not anteed up her name. And Victoria's hand would prove chip winning. Damien had absolute confidence in such a place making a hefty profit. It openly did what his people did clandestinely. Number games and thick-legged tramps raked in cash. The eyes of the crowd stayed glued to the elevator as it pinged. The section had been roped off with thick red velvet ropes and had finally been removed by the two attendants standing on either side of the elevator. The time had come for an entrance and they all knew who was about to grace them with her presence. TO BE CONTINUED Let us know what you think. We're interested to find out what our readers like about the story. Believe me...there's more to come that will more than knock your socks off!