Vincent
For so long, my power has existed to be absolute. Unchallenged. I've always aimed for complete control and won't settle for anything less. Unfortunately, my ambitions are being jeopardized by recent arrivals in my city, threatening to loosen...
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I've always enjoyed my morning drive to work. The thirty-minute commute from my home to my office, accompanied by the soft purr of my car's engine and the quiet calm of the near-dystopian utopia that is the streets of Uptown. I find it a nice way to clear my head, compartmentalize my thoughts and schedule ahead of time. But today, my mind is a clusterfuck of thoughts and questions, yesterday's conversation with Richard making my head a buzz of anxiety, my breakfast churning in my stomach at the thought of Rowan Bozelli being back in Metropolis, despite years of meticulous planning and strategy to get away from him. Rowan doesn't dabble in drugs. His main business had always been human and weapons trafficking. So why the fuck would he be butting into Romano's business? What could he possibly gain from a turf war in Metropolis?
He was all but banished from showing his face here by Vincent Romano's father, Alessio Romano, when he made it pretty damn clear that human trafficking would get no foothold in Metropolis, birthing one of the bloodiest, most violent gang wars this city's ever seen. It was a necessary evil at the time. Rowan had already used the children he'd taken to give rise to his first batch of assassins, the Shades. Meticulous, cold and ruthless, trained from a young age, they cut down Alessio's soldiers one by one, though undoubtedly the man had an army of his own, rallying street gangs under him and his soldiers against Rowan, until finally defeating him from the inside.
How that was done has never really been known, most of what people already know is still hearsay. When he finally got the upper hand on Rowan and drove him out of the city, he'd already painted his reputation on the streets of Metropolis in blood, and well, it's safe to say no one thought twice about crossing him. Mayors, government officials, judges, bankers, everybody complied. Suddenly, renovations were everywhere, the city, once war-torn and run down, suddenly fell in line. Everything seemed to get better, Simply put, an improbable bloodied hero resurrected Metropolis. Peace meant politicians felt they owed him, giving way for his drugs to flow freely, increasing the profitability of his business and ultimately his hold on Metropolis.
In some ways, I owe my escape and practically my life to the ruthless bastard that was Alessio Romano. He'd crippled Rowan for years to come, giving me the chance to free myself from him and fuck him up in my own little way. The key word being was. Rowan had him killed years after he left Metropolis, along with his second son, Marco Romano's wife. The man had screwed over the Romanos and he had the nerve to show up in the city. Why they wanted to hire me was a mystery in and of itself. I get the whole freelance, don't belong to anyone shtick I have going on removes them from the hits, and I'm well aware Romano's probably going after some big shots in Metropolis' political scene and probably people in his ranks. But anyone could do those things for him. Why me? Does he know I have history with Rowan? I shake my head at the thought. He couldn't possibly know that. No one but Richard and the very few people I keep in my inner circle know what I really am.
An uneasy feeling creeps up my spine at the thought of Richard outing me to Romano, or god forbid, Miller. I trust him with my life, but people tend to do stupid shit when they feel cornered. With everything going on, his business could very well be on the precipice of collapse. He may be my friend, but to his core, Richard has always been a businessman. And nothing is as fragile and frivolous in the cutthroat business world as friendship.
