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MAEVE NEVER HAD CONTROL OVER HER LIFE LIKE IT WAS HER OWN. She always belonged to someone else. Always a puppet, something to be played with. If she was told to dance she would. Given an order she was meant to oblige. The strings were being pulled in all directions, leaving her less of a person and more a doll. Sometimes she felt like that was all she'd ever be. A slave to someone else. It wasn't the life she wanted for herself. She already broke away from one dictator only to end up with another.
"Again, I have to ask. Is this wise?" David Lee, Roman Sionis' partner and confidant, said as the three congregated in the man's office.
Hangover Tower was by far the most elegant building on the East side of the city filled with doom and gloom. The walls of the boss' office were a tawny brown with tall windows to give Roman a decent view of Gotham, the one and only true love in his life. His domineering gaze had been focused elsewhere since he called in his venomous viper.
Maeve always had a complicated relationship with Roman. He had found her when she was bruised, bloody, and on the verge of death at sixteen. He paid his doctors to nurse her back to health, clothed and fed her, protected her from the 'do gooders', and put a roof over her head. Though he wasn't the hero of her story. He forced her right back into the position she was in before — though it did not take much convincing — made her kill with the snap of his fingers. He needed a weapon and one just so happened to fall at his feet.
Roman kept his eyes on his computer as he said, "if you mean the shipment. Yes, it's brilliant. If you mean Mr. Freeze..."
Maeve was unaware of the plan involving Victor Fries, all she knew was she's supposed to be playing babysitter, something not in her job description. It frustrated the young woman, not because she had to watch the psychopath but because she was pulled away from her own mission, tracking down an old friend. She had far more important things to be doing.
She wanted to reconnect with her old playmates, her old team of hired guns. It wasn't for any diabolical reason that will make the streets run red. Maeve simply needed to know if the others were alive, if they were able to live a better life. Her ex-girlfriend Amaya always dreamed of living a white-picket-fence life. One where she could be an ordinary woman with a just as normal job.
Amaya would often wrap herself around Maeve, laying in their cell, and ranting about her dreams. The future she wanted. Back then it had seemed so far out of reach but now? There was a possibility of her getting to live out that fantasy.
Maeve needed to be sure, needed to know she wasn't the only survivor.
"He can't be trusted, the guy is a loose cannon." Maeve leaned back in the leather chair and kicked her feet up to rest on the desk. "I'm just saying you hired a psychopath."
David moved behind the woman, resting his hands on the black material of her chair. His lips curled into a scowl as if agreeing with her once the man in charge looked up to meet their eyes. He personally wanted Maeve far away from Victor, who had no impulse control. And knowing Maeve, she'd make one snide remark and be turned into an ice sculpture.
