𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬¹ ✓

Nine

Talent {Noun} - natural aptitude or skill.

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      𝓢𝓬𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶𝓼 could be heard as Olivia and Peter walked down a poorly lit dingy hallway under one of their main warehouses.

"How many people do we have down here?" Peter asked Theo as a guard unlocked the heavy metal door for them to enter. She wrapped her jacket tighter around her, a gust of wind hitting them as soon as they walked in.

"About ten people right now. Less once you two are finished." Theo answered, passing the tablet over to Olivia. She hummed as she looked through their profiles. "How 'bout this one?" She showed Peter over her shoulder.

"Whichever one you want madam Lenoir, I'm not the one getting my hands dirty." He said making her chuckle. Peter did always prefer the paperwork side of things. He could barely stand the smell of blood. Maybe that's why her father kept them together.

They worked great together.

They walked over to a room that had a man strapped to a chair. He was shirtless, showing his Italian mafia loyalty bullshit tattoed.

He lifted his head once he heard the door open, his face battered and blue. Olivia stuck a hand up, signaling everyone to stop moving. "Theo, do me a favor and stay outside. We wouldn't want to get your suit dirty." She said making Peter scoff.

"What about me huh? What about my suit?" Olivia rolled her eyes. "You have a billion others." She said monotone before Theo closed the door. "I hate when you talk to me in that voice. It gives me the creeps." Peter says as he fakes the chills.

She turned to face him, a knife already in her hands. "Stop being a baby. We're here to work so either take that coat off and roll up your sleeves or get it covered in blood." She said sternly, knowing they had cameras in these rooms. Peter might be stubborn in letting people know they were close but she wouldn't let up.

"You two pansies going to keep fighting or what?" The man spoke with a thick Italian accent. Peter just rolled his eyes as he shrugged his coat off and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt.

Olivia had taken hers off immediately as they entered the room.

"Why are you here? I thought you Italians were supposed to be smarter than this?" She spoke lowly with a smirk making the man grunt. "You French play dirty." Olivia laughed remembering what his file said.

Theo had sent one of the Lenoir girls to seduce and trap him.

"It's not that we play dirty. It's that you're too easy." She says in a whisper, their noses almost touching. He lunges at her but can't reach her because of the restraints. "Calm down there buddy." Peter mocked before punching him right in the jaw. "Don't want you getting hurt." He mocked making both siblings get that deranged look in their eyes.

While Olivia enjoyed it all, Peter learned how to fake it over the years.

The man looked between the siblings, "You're fucking crazy." He said as Olivia placed the flat side of her knife on top of his tattoo. "How would big papa Bianchi react if I sent him your cut-out tattoo?" She said, looking at the way the knife reflected in the light.

The man watched her every move. Fear slowly crept up his spine.

He had heard of Olivia Lenoir. Everyone's heard the stories of the prestige Lenoir robot and how deranged she was.

He thought maybe the stories were exaggerated for effect, especially the ones from three years ago when she went off the rails, to make people fear them more but everything he'd ever heard was true.