*'Gangster Squad', Sgt. Jerry Wooters, Mikey Cohen, Grace Faraday belong to Warner Bros. and their rightful owners.*
I never would have asked for this life. Ever, but I was never given a choice. My name is Flora Mirini. I was born in Italy, but I immigrated to Los Angeles with my Father and three brothers; Dante, Rocco and last Aldo. They were all older than me and I was their bebe sister. I was always kept in the middle of the diamond shape led by my Father. When some bad choices of mine got my family killed the person who took me in was Mikey Cohen, a Mobster known for bringing in a lot of medicine better known as Heroin. I wouldn't want to be here now, walking into a dark club Mikey's right arm around my waist claiming me as his whore. On his left arm is Grace, Grace Faraday. Her bright green eyes look at me and in them I can see the want for freedom from Mikey's side. Her short, wavy red hair is deeply parted on her right side and the rest of the hair on the right pinned back. Her long dark red dress is form fitting with a long strip of cloth wrapped around her neck connecting to the back holding the tight dress up and a long slit up her left side showing a long leg and strappy, matching red heels. Mikey releases us from his grip and we turn on our heels heading for the bar as he heads for his 'friend'.
Grace sidles off with a man I am guessing is her toy she called Reese in private and winks at me. I roll my eyes and order a drink. I slowly lean my back against the cold counter looking down as I sip my drink. I have managed to slip into a pale pink dress form fitting until it hit my hips where it loosened and fell to my feet hidden inside nude heels. Across my chest the fabric goes to my right shoulder where a loose sleeve forms around my arm. My dark brown curls are piled into a bun accented by a few falling out pieces from the bun and one in my face with a pearl accessorized pin stuck in my hair. A man, tall with blonde hair and wearing a grey suit, sidles up beside me ordering a drink.
"Well what do we have here? One of Mikey Cohen's arm warmers?" He teased. I don't reply only sip my drink. The taste burns my tongue and down my throat, but I still sip softly. "Did Mikey cut out your tongue or are you ignoring me, miss?" He asks. I don't reply still and sit the empty glass on the counter. "Well then."
"Alright, son you better get walking before Mikey sees you. A pretty boy like you doesn't need to end up dead on the streets because he spoke to the wrong girl in the club." I say ready to pick up my jeweled clutch, but my dark pink nails only scrap over the jewels when my eyes meet his. His eyes are bluer than the summer sky at midday. They are far more blue than the Caribbean Ocean, beautiful and mysterious pulling you into the depths. I let out a soft breath. "Magnifico..." I whisper my hand reaching out to touch his pale cheek.
"What? What does that mean?" He asks softly letting my nails graze his cheek softly. "Miss, are you feeling alright? You didn't drink much, did you?" He asks softly. I shake my head.
"Beautiful, magnificent, perfection, that's what I meant." I say and grab my clutch. "I must be going..." I go to step away from the bar with a warm hand finds my arm. I look back at the man.
"Tell me, miss, how does a magnifico Italian like you get here in Los Angles and end up with Mikey Cohen?" I give him a sad smile. "You don't need to be with him. He is bad news for anyone around him or associated with him."
"Leave that story to words never said." I say and slip away out the back door into a cool alley. I look around and slowly decide on Left. Going Right has sent me here, maybe it's time to change which direction I choose. My heels click as I head towards some lights. Here we go, Flora.
