Her Downfall (Szymanski/Kiari03)

"Frankie, where you been? Tommy's been calling you for the last half hour. How many times have I told you to answer your god damn phone!"
"I was driving."
"Yeah, well when you see that we're trying to phone -- how many times did you try? -- Six? Six times, then stop the fucking car, and pick up the damn phone. We've got important shit going down."
"I couldn't stop, I was on the highway."
"You've always got a damn answer for everything, don't you kid? I swear, if you weren't so reliable then you'd be on your backside in two seconds flat. Enough of the excuses, next time you see us phoning, you pick up. I don't give a shit if you're going fast, we're phoning for a reason."
"Yes, boss. What ever you say."
"Alright. Well now you're here, we can get started. Tommy here has a plan, a good one at that. Makes me wonder why I didn't come up with it. He tells me the Trapattoni-Simone alliance has hit a snag the last few days, and tensions are pretty high. This gives us a bit of an opportunity to gain some ground from under their noses. So Bobby Trapattoni has a daughter, alright? Well what we do, is grab her -- and make the Trapattoni's believe that the Simone's are to blame."
"How do we do that?"
"By stealing one of their cars and snatching her when her back's turned. Or when you've hit her over the head, I don't care how you do it, just get her back here without anyone realising that it's us that's done it instead of them."
"But then what? So we grab her, fine. We make sure that the Trapattoni's see the Simone's car. I hide her somewhere, then wait for the fireworks to start. All the Simone's have to do is tell the Trapattoni's that it wasn't them, and then we're the ones in shit creak."
"Don't you worry about that. Just sit tight, make sure she doesn't escape and Tommy here will do the rest."

Frankie nodded, and left the room without any further questions. He knew not to disagree, even if sometimes he believed that what he was doing could happen a little more efficiently. Stealing the Simone's car was a simple job, of course he had to take it without them actually realising that it was missing. The goons that were in their apartment were fast asleep, or so Frankie believed anyway, so as long as he got this over and done with in a couple of hours, he was fine. Frankie stood at six foot exactly, short hair that was usually fashioned in to a standing fringe with gel. Although looking young, he was actually closer to thirty years of age than anything else, something which surprised a few people.

Kidnapping the girl was a whole different story. He had a tip off on where she would be, and struck. It was another defeat for the Trapattoni's, as one of their men was killed in the skirmish, but Frankie was smart in allowing two to remain alive to witness the abduction in action. A hood over his head prevented any recognition that it was Frankie Dupraz, soldier for Vinnie Bernardino. The young woman was knocked out with one hard smack to the head, and thrown in to the trunk of the borrowed vehicle. The paintwork received a few gunshot marks to the rear, but other than that, he made it out in one piece. Something which he did not expect was for there to be so many armed men near her as she sat eating in the quiet restaurant. Sure, she was the boss' daughter, but she had so much protection you would think she was the boss!

Driving away, turning corners in order to shake off anyone that attempted to give chase, Frankie reached the apartment building where she would spend a long while hidden. When he opened the metal flap on the back of the vehicle, he was relieved to find she was still unconscious, allowing him to take her upstairs to the top floor without a fight. The building was on the rich part of the district, although Frankie's place was in need of refurnishing, having just moved in two weeks before. Tommy was waiting for him, and had taken the car to return to the Simone family.

"Hey, wake up." His palm slapped her face gently, beckoning the girl to return to the world. She was on the couch, and for now, Frankie had used a roll of silver duct tape to bind her hands behind her back, ankles together, and a long rectangular piece on her plush lips. Pulling the tape halfway off her mouth, he braced himself for a barrage of insults.

Many days had passed with raised tensions throughout her turf and it was negatively affecting her men who had been living off of baloney and white bread. Fast, efficient, and readily thrown away should something break off. Her authority and protection had remained unquestioned for two short years and she loved the loyalty of her men.

"Miss are you sure that going out tonight is truly what you want? After all, we have no problem laying low until we can figure out what the fuck is going on in Simone's side." Joshua asked as they had made their way to the restaurant with three cars trailing closely behind them.

"Word is, the boss of the Simone's side is sick. Perhaps that, along with a police crack down on their side, is what is making communication so difficult between the lines. Or, it could be that their boss is experiencing his first period. One way or the other, we are the Trappatoni family, and I refuse to hide." Her bravery, or perhaps her foolishness, is what would lead to her kidnapping that night.

The Chinese food at this restaurant was possibly the best in the city. To hide the authority she held in this clan, she was to sit alone, secretly surrounded by her men. She was prideful, but understanding enough to know that, should word get around about a female boss, the clan would lose important connections.

Jacky had soft brunette hair that extended to her mid back, sharp, analytical blue eyes, a soft mask of freckles decorating her cheeks, and stood at a small five foot, one inch. Despite her small stature, she was twenty one, often mistaken for a full five years younger, which worked to her favor.

As she took a bite into her sesame chicken dinner, a thunderous crack exploded through her head. Her vision went blurry as she looked for the cause of her pain and she noticed that the entire resturaunt was standing. Her men grabbed for their guns...then...then...nothing, except for the soft touch of a hand.

She kept her eyes closed to analyze her situation through the sensation of touch. She could tell that her hands were bound behind her back, her lips tingled, while the pressure of duct tape bound her ankles together. Forming a good wad of spit behind her lips, she quickly let that wad loose into the face of the man kneeling over her. She could tell by his voice that he was not one of her men.

Opening her eyes, she adjusted her vision to focus on Frankie, who now had a fine glob of spit dripping from his eyelash. "So, you have a death wish do you? I assure you that will occur quickly you puss ball, so tell me, which family residence am I located in." Her first goal was to find out whether the Simone family had anything to do with this situation. Second, was to analyze whether he knew of her position in the clan.

With a quick twist of her left arm, she dislocated it and quickly twirled her arms over her head, connecting her bound hands with his head, the correct amount of pressure to relocate her arms. She blushed as her skirt had driven up nearly all the way to her thong. "Now that I can more comfortably break your face if I need to, tell me what I need to know." She muttered, sure he had seen his face once before. It was the insignificance of his face that left her to question his position and her predicament. It was the sound of a metallic click that made her blood run cold through her veins. Had she failed to notice someone else in the room?

In a flurry of panic she quickly smashed her bound fists into his face and recovered a knife from her sleeve through a small twist of her right arm. Slicing through the binds on her ankles, she made a mad dash for the door. Her heart was racing, she was covered in sweat. She hadn't been this out of control ever. She knew, that unless she was able to get away, she would be trapped.

"Tommy, tell me the good news. Tell me everything has went to plan."
"Everything has went to plan, Boss."
"Good, good! And the girl? How's our hostage?"
"She's fine. Last time I saw her, Frankie was dragging the poor bitch in to his apartment. All nice and quiet for him as well. We'll see how long she stays that way." Tommy laughed.
"Where are you just now?"
"Just dropped off the car. They shouldn't notice it's been gone... that's if they don't see the three big bullet holes in the back bumper. Any word from the Trapattoni's?"
"Nothing yet, I'm waiting on a call, though. Someone's going to phone up, demanding to know what we've done to her. I'll just direct them to the real abductors, and we can sit back and watch as it gets heated."
"Good stuff, Boss. I'll go check on Frankie just now, then I'll head back. Catch you around."


"Frankie! It's Tommy. How's our little star doing?"
"Right now she's sleeping. I've got my fingers crossed that it stays that way."
"Ha, well you wish. I'm on my way round, just returned the car you borrowed. Could have told me you had been shot at, let's just hope those idiots don't start to wonder where those big holes came from."
"Well I'm sorry, Tommy. I forgot to tell the Trapattoni's to stop shooting at me. I'm sure they would have understood if I asked them nicely."
"Yeah, well our friends have kept quiet just now. It won't be long before we start hearing about it. Just keep that bitch gagged and in your apartment, and everything should go without a hitch."
"Yes, dad."
Tommy smiled, and hung up the cell phone. Tommy didn't like to walk. Wherever he went, it was by car. Was it lazy on his part? No. Cars were designed to transport people from A to B, fast and quickly. Walking, on the other hand, made you tired, and took too long. And considering he was wearing a suit -- grey in colour -- and new shoes that felt a little too small for his own liking, he was quickly complaining to himself of the situation. After ten minutes of walking, the apartment was in sight. Although only four floors, it was the tallest structure for blocks. Maybe because industrial area surrounded it, although that didn't seem to lower the propery value at all. Plenty of vans and trucks were parked in this area of the city, and Tommy always wondered what each one carried. There was no telling what ones were drugs, and what ones were legit.

Opening the door to his apartment, Tommy felt the door whack something hard, with such force that what ever he hit, tumbled to the floor. He looked up to find Frankie bleeding from the lip, holding his hand to his face with a frown. "What the hell is going on here?" He asked, looking down to see Jacky on the floor. There was a knife in her hand, so Tommy pressed his show against it to prevent the woman from picking it up. "She was bound and fucking gagged, how the hell did she get away?"
"She did some monkey shit with her arms, I turned away for a second and she hit me in the fucking face."
Sighing, the new arrival grabbed the woman by her top and pulled her up ever so slightly, then hitting her face hard with his fist. "Don't slack off. We let her go, then we're all fucked."

Everyone from their clan dreaded calling up Bobby and Ralph, her father and second hand man, but they knew it had to be done. Ryan was the unlucky son of a bitch who had the pleasure of informing Ralph of their failed efforts to fight off and retrieve their boss. Ralph's reaction was not a shock.

"What in Hell's manger happened to her?! Damn it! You dumbasses were supposed to keep watch over her! Or did you forget that detail?!" The voice of Ralph, her second hand man who had been attending to some business while they went to dinner. Slamming the phone down due to the frustration of a kidnapped boss and an excuse, he quickly dialed over to the neighboring clan. Ironically enough, the same clan that had their boss no less.

"Hey, we need a huge favor. Our boss has found herself some trouble. We need your clan to scan your area and get ready for a war. According to my sources, she was kidnapped by a hooded man, driving a Simone car. Dumbass didn't even bother to steal a fucking car to make himself less recognizable. Anyway, do this favor for us and we'll see to it that over half of the turf we collect from those bastards becomes yours. Sound fair? Good."

Ralph hung up, got into his car, and began to drive through the streets like a mad man.He wouldn't be informing Bobby of his daughter's predicament. After all, he had been on bed rest for over two months and Ralph feared that this next blow would be the death of him. Punching the steering wheel, he would have the unpleasant job of checking the docks for her body, while the rest of his men looked for her through out the city. Their would be many men on the streets tonight looking for their boss. Ralph, had made a fatal mistake in his panic. He had said that their boss had been kidnapped, not their boss's daughter.



Jacky gritted her teeth tightly and braced herself as she felt her body weight being lifted off of the floor. She refused to scream as an explosion of heat and pain ran through her face. But shit, it hurt!

She looked up at him and smirked, "I'm no fool. You are not part of the Simone clan. Because that clan would actually have the balls to off me. In fact, you're Tommy, the son of a man who has less than a mile to his name. And you truly hope to succeed in killing me?" She laughed, her eyes narrowing as she leaned back, positioning herself for a good kick while he was in leg's reach.

It suddenly dawned on her why she was really here, "You're hoping that my clan mistakes you bastards for the Simones and will go after them for my sake. But you over looked one important detail..." With as much force as she could muster from her awkward position she kicked him full force in his nut sack, ripping the side of her skirt in the process. "You've kidnapped one crazy bitch!"

Lunging forward, she tried with all that she could to reach the door, but weight of a full grown man on top of her forced her to stop crawling. She couldn't move. Her chest heaved under the frustration and fear she felt, sweat began to bead on her forehead, and the uncomfortable sensation of Tommy's manhood pressed firmly against her exposed thigh was enough to make her crack. "Get the fuck off of me!!!" She screamed.

She had now hurt both of them -- Frankie and Tommy. They were really fed up with her attacking, and wished that she would actually behave like a normal hostage, and act scared and frightened. Obviously she had to have a certain personality and attitude to get as far as she did, but they weren't aware that she was the Boss yet. They still thought she was the Boss' daughter. Once more, Tommy hit her hard in the face, still groaning from her kick. "Shut up, you bitch! Damn it, maybe we should cut off one of her fingers every time she fights back. You're a smart girl, so you figured out that we're not really the Simone's. Give this girl a chocolate-fucking-medal. Now it's just too bad that you can't tell your family this little piece of information, they still think that the Simone's took you." Tommy's cell phone triggered the ring tone again and he placed it to his ear. "Yeah? -- Oh, so they phoned, huh? -- Really? -- They're giving you half the Simone's territory? -- Can you trust them? -- Nah, I didn't think you would. -- Jacky's being a pain in the backside, if you want me to be honest. Don't worry, we've got it sorted, she ain't going anywhere. -- Yeah, I'll be round soon."

Tommy looked up, and motioned for Frankie to help him grab her. The two men did their best to restrain her as they took her to the bedroom, taping her mouth shut once more and retaping the limbs which had been loosened. This time, her bondage included a chair. Hands behind the chair, and ankles taped to each leg of the piece of furniture. The two men stood in front, watching her no doubt struggle to get out of that as well. "She's like a fucking eel. Can't stop moving for a second. Maybe I should go to the pet-store, get a cage and throw her in one."
"Or we just break her legs."
"How long am I supposed to keep her here for?"
"A few weeks, maybe longer. We'll phone you if you need to move her, things are going to be pretty crazy soon."
"Crazy? I think the crazy things have already started."
Tommy and Frankie said their goodbyes to each other, while Tommy promised he would visit tomorrow morning to check on her, and update him with what was going on. He was warned not to open the door to anyone, unless there was a phonecall in advance.

"Tell me where the fuck she is!! One of your cars was seen at the kidnapping! What the fuck do you mean that your men didn't drive their cars!!! You fuckers had this planned from the beginning!! Jacky!!! We're here for you!!!" Seven men stood outside of the Simone complex, armed to the teeth. None of them were top ranking, but they were loyal.

Suddenly, gun shots began to fire from inside of the complex, spraying glass and blood all over the pavement. Five of the seven men that went there to save her died then and there. Many more would also die before all was said and done.

She smirked as he talked through the phone, "You're son sucks at hospitality And I want my Chocolate medal now!!!" She continued to yell obnoxious ramblings through out his phone call. Didn't seem to phase him much, but it made her smile and that's all that counted. "Yeah, don't worry! I still need to whip your boys into shape before I leave this hole!" She yelled out as he hung up the phone.

Their threats of pain and torture didn't affect her. After all, she made those threats on a weekly basis. But they had a point, she was pretty much under their thumb for the moment. Though inflicting pain on them was amusing, it wasn't enough to set herself free.

Their rough hands lifted her up off of the floor and successfully dragged her into the bed room, taping her mouth to cover the obscenities. She began to laugh as she watched as Frankie's face drop at the news that her stay would be a long one. Twisting and turning, it didn't take long for her to realize that she wasn't going anywhere tonight. Sighing, she attempted to get comfortable in a tight position in a wooden chair.

'Well...if I can't sleep...neither can he..." And suddenly, she began to hum every and any song that came to mind, including but not limited to, "Amazing grace", "The song that never ends", and "God bless America." He could tie her down, keep her from moving, speaking, but he couldn't keep her from making enough sound to drive anyone insane. What would he do? Leave? She didn't think so.

Tommy's phone rung again, and to his disgust, the screen flashed the name Francesca. That's all he needed; it wasn't bad enough that the phone seemed to be almost permanently glued to his ear, but he had to probably put up with his girlfriend's shit.
"Honey, what do you want?"
"I want to know when you're coming home, you've been away for hours, this pasta ain't gonna cook itself you know!"
"Well maybe you should learn to cook, instead of staring at the damn thing. It's not going to be ready by itself, you have to stick it in the oven and shit."
"What did you say?"
"I said you should learn to cook, I'm sorry, maybe it's a bad line on your end. Yeah, I said it. I've been running around all day, doing stuff for the Boss and making sure everything goes smoothly, and you're complaining to me about pasta? You're not right in the head, girl. I could have died today, it's nice of you to phone up and go I'm glad you're alright, Tommy. No, you ring me and moan that I'm not making your dinner? I'm sorry if you're starving, Fran! But that aching stomach of yours is gonna have to wait just a little bit longer." Francesca hung up on him before he could even say goodbye. Another fight approached, suddenly Frankie's situation with Jacky didn't seem half-bad. He looked up at the bedroom window, before climbing in to his car and driving in to the night.

After a half-hour of constant humming, Frankie sat at the end of his bed, staring in to the annoying eyes of Jacky Trapattoni, bags already developing displaying a lack of (and need for) sleep. It was no use telling her to shut up, she wouldn't. The gag was failing to keep her quiet, and he had even attempted at one point to drag her chair in to the living room, but that didn't work. Just as loud. So now, they were both back in the bedroom. Frankie wanted to know why they were even keeping her alive to begin with. If she was let go after all this was done and dusted, then the Trapattoni's would know it was the Bernadino's that took her. By killing her, that potential disaster could be avoided.

"I'll beat you black and blue, I swear. You want me to hurt you, is that it? Is that why you're keeping me awake, so I'll come over and make you cry?" He was now extremely pissed, so much so that he stormed out of the room and a rattle of metal came from the kitchen. A tool box. And in his hands, as Frankie returned, was a pair of hand-held wirecutters. He crouched behind her, grabbed her right hand's pinky, and gently rested the blades of the tool against either side. "Keep on singing, and I'll press down."

((lol pasta))

Jacky sighed and finally, the constant humming stopped. Oh, she would start again. No doubt in her mind. After all, she was the boss of a well to do clan and wouldn't be silenced by scum like him until she was allowed to sleep peacefully. However, she could tell that she had pushed him a little too far. He was sleep depraved and probably not thinking right. At this point, she feared he would happily cut her finger off, despite the great risk that she would consequently bleed to death. She would have to let him know her secret now and hope that they could both get some sleep.

Sucking in her breath, she let a big blow of air out and half of the duct tape came off. "Remember when you put me in the living room and my humming was just as loud? Good reason for it. See, duct tape has one weakness. Perspiration. Well, that, and a lot of spit. When you taped my mouth, I was sweating, weakening the tape from the beginning. Then, all it took was a little bit of licking to complete the rest. I have been without a gag since I was in that living room. Oh, it took me a minute to swallow that little rag, but nothing a little tongue action couldn't take care of." The dull pain of the scissors didn't leave, in fact, they got a little more painful. Her heart sank a little. She knew that if she wanted to keep both of their minds and her fingers in tact, she would have to make a deal that she didn't particularly care for.

"Ok, ok. Listen. You can tape my mouth again, but the same thing is going to happen. If you really want to get some sleep these next few weeks, as your partner said, then you need to listen to my offer. I'll be quiet, but you need to release me from this chair and let me sleep in a bed. Hell, if it will make you feel better, tape my wrist to yours, so, if it feels like I'm trying to make a run for it, you can snatch me back. What do you say? The boss's daughter in your bed or humming of the "Star Spangled Banner" on constant repeat?" She smirked, sex appeal usually worked, not that he would get any. No one had as of yet, and it most certainly be this tired dumbass. Not tonight at least.

Frankie thought about her offer, he stared at her face, trying to figure her out. She had hit him, hit Tommy, and had tried many times to escape already. And she was trying to make him believe that this time was going to be different, that she was going to lie in the bed like a good little girl and not make a run for it? No chance, he wasn't a fool. Somebody else might have fallen for her lies, but not Frankie. He only shook his head at it in disgust.

"You know what I'll do? I'll take you down to my car, toss you back in to the trunk, and you can spend the night crushed in to a little ball. My garage is pretty soundproof from the outside, so you can sing yourself to sleep as much as you like down there. In fact, I like the idea alot." Frankie went to his kitchen again, returning the wirecutters to their tool box, and throwing it back in to the cupboard. He opened up the fridge and took out a carton of apple juice, taking off the lid and letting some of the liquid trickle down throat. He needed something alot stronger than this, like a whiskey. The girl was definetly someone that would drive you to drink. If it was possible, he'd sever her vocal cords, solve all his problems. That was a good shout, actually. Did she have a boyfriend or husband? If so, he was a very tolerant mad man. He'd have to be.

Walking back in to the bedroom, he climbed on to the chair so that he was sitting on her lap facing her, his legs poking out either side. "Are you missing your daddy? He's out looking for you right now, but he won't ever find you." Frankie held her face tightly in position, so that she couldn't headbutt him in the face or whatever she wanted to do. Tha gangster's lips touched hers for a mere second, then their mouths parted again. "I can't trust you to sleep in the bed. You'll try to smother me with the pillow or strangle me. You're staying in this chair, or you're going down to my car. What will it be?"

Jacky took a deep breath of relief as the wire cutters were taken away from her fingers. In actuality she had grown quite fond of her ten fingers and toes and had no desire to part with them. When she heard him open the fridge she had called out, “Toss me a beer!” She knew he wouldn’t. Bastard. She was beginning to lose the feeling in her toes, which worried her, but not enough to warrant a complaint to her captor.

Jacky sighed, “Great, a man not turned on by a woman tied up in a chair. I mean, I know it’s three in the morning, but he could at least make an effort. Hmmm…I wonder…” She thought as she seemed to be contemplating her choices. “Before I answer, I need to ask you something.” She smirked, hoping to get under his skin just a little bit more, “You’re gay aren’t you? Or castrated? Personally I don’t know the code of conduct or punishments that are found appropriate by the Simone clan. So, in theory, castration could be quite possible, I suppose…” She ended on a note that made her seem like she was mulling it over.

“In any case, I think I’ll stick around here to keep an eye on you. After all, you have so much more to fear than my father ever will.” She grinned, leaning her head against the wooden frame of the chair and sighing, “So uncomfortable…” She mumbled, before breaking into “All I want for Christmas”. "He was pissed about the humming. Wonder how he feels about singing..."

He didn't give her the satisfaction of becoming angry at her comments, on suggesting that he was gay. The key to all of this was ignoring her, and soon she would be bored of it all. Of course, in theory it was a lot easier than it was in practise. The singing had reached the point where he fantasied not about her being tied up in the chair, with her suggestive bodyframe bound with tape, but of standing in front of her and smashing her face in to a pulp. If only. But Frankie knew that he had to keep her in one piece -- unless Vincent or Tommy told him otherwise. He prayed for the call to come through to allow him to kill her, or chop her body in to pieces and toss the garbage bags containing limbs in to the river.

Frankie crawled back in to his bed, kicking off all his clothes except his boxers, then grabbing a T-shirt to wear to bed. It was one of those band shirts that you would get from concerts, this one advertised a group named "The Red Barons", a local rock band that were popular in this area of town. He had one of their posters on the wall behind his bed. He managed to survive the singing for ten minutes, trying every possible sleep position including placing the pillow over his ears, but it was impossible. Jumping from the mattress, he began to walk towards her and pulled back his fist, then throwing it towards her face, bone cracking against the front of her skull. The force of the punch caused the chair to fall backwards on to the carpet, and he hoped that it knocked her out. It should have, it matched the strength of the whack she received earlier that day in the restaurant.

The last thing Jacky knew was that she was singing about wanting two front teeth for Christmas and then came Frankie who came close to knocking those two teeth out of her mouth. No longer in the world of the conscious, she dreamed painful dreams. Featuring, but not limited to, being run over by a car, over her head, falling, on her head, and an anvil being dropped, on her head. She knew there was a connection there, but was too drowsy to really think about it. Soon, she lay awake in a painful state of shock. Dawn was breaking outside and she had yet to be saved. She was in enemy territory and would more than likely die there. What would her father do? What about her clan?

“Oooh…this isn’t good Jacky. Come on…think of something that will make you smile…come on girl, stay strong.” But it wasn’t working. She was exhausted, starving, and hopeless. She allowed a few tears to flow down her face, blurring her vision of the sun creeping through the blinds. She had lost the feeling in her arms hours ago, due to her body weight bearing down on them, but at least she had feeling in her legs again.

Jacky was becoming disorganized in her exhaustion. If she could sleep, then she could think. But without the first, the second wasn’t nearly as efficient. A few more tears and a couple of hushed sniffles. Suddenly, she heard a loud banging on the front door. “Wonder who it could possibly be at seven in the morning….” She mused.

Frankie woke to the same knocking that Jacky commented on. It took a few moments to wipe the sleep from his eyes, and correct his eyesight to the morning glow from the semi-closed blinds. Before he even got off the bed, he checked to see that his hostage was still here. And she was. But what he saw brought a smirk to his lips. Was she... crying? Was she upset? What happened to the confident, cocky Boss' daughter that warned Frankie he would regret doing this? Her kidnapper wanted to rub it in her face so bad, but the door knocked again. What time was it? Frankie looked to his cell phone, and there were two missed calls from Tommy. Having left the phone on silent, the option prevented any noise from emitting through the speaker.

Jumping from the bed, Frankie scratched his crotch a few times and released a sigh of satisfaction as the itch went away. He unlocked the door and welcomed Frankie in to the apartment. "Didn't think you were coming so early." He yawned.
"Early? You know me, I don't like lying in my bed too long. Waste of a day. So how is our little captured Rose? Didn't give you too much trouble last night, did she?"
"Trouble? She wouldn't shut up, that was the problem. Kept humming and singing fucking Christmas songs. I had to knock her out to get a good night's sleep."
Tommy entered the bedroom and wiped away some of the dry blood from her face. "Your family got themselves in to a little war with the Simone's last night. The good news is they're winning, the bad news is they've lost a lot of men. Your little army is beginning to get smaller and smaller. And when they least expect it, Vincent is going to send in our guys to attack from the side. Knock them both out of the picture. Before you know it, the Simone's and Trapattoni's will be nothing but a few gangsters hiding in shitty apartment blocks with nowhere to run." Tommy seemed to like telling her the tragic outcome of her family's legacy.

Frankie had made some breakfast while Tommy and Jacky talked. When he returned, there were two plates of scrambled eggs in his hand. Tommy took one and began to eat, while Frankie shared his with their captive. Every so often, he would pick up some of the food with his fork, and place it to Jacky's mouth, giving her the opportunity to eat.

Her head felt like it had been slammed by a brick last night, when she began to realize why. She had pushed him too far. Oh well, she probably deserved it. What she didn't deserve was the cruel mocking face he made on his way to let Tommy into the house, "Great...another person to see me in my shame...." She thought as she strained to see what was happening. Tommy's words cut her like a knife. Her men were dying, for all the wrong reasons, and against the wrong people. What was worse, she was their boss, and couldn't do anything to help guide them. Tears rimmed her eyes as she listened to their plan. She needed to escape. A glare formed over her features and she refused to respond any further to his words. She feared if she did, she would let it slip that they were aiming for the wrong man...maybe some food would help.

She practically inhaled the food that was generously brought to her lips. She had quite a bruise on her cheek, dried blood on her mouth, but Tommy seemed more patient. As breakfast was finished with a mere six bites given to her, her stomach growled for more. Blushing, she wanted to change the subject, "Hey, do you think ya can get me out of this chair again? I promise not to try and escape, but my arms feel like they are being crushed and I don't know how much more I can take." She asked with a wavering voice, but her eyes never failing to meet those of her captors. She wasn't sure they would allow her request, but she did need to get out of this chair. "Or you can always leave me because of your insecurities of restraining a woman. But, be warned, your carpet is going to have a nice yellow stain if you refuse." She warned, hoping to be released at least for a little while.

Frankie was amazed just how fast she gobbled up every mouthful he passed to her on the fork, eating as if she hadn't fed in days. Occasionally, a small drop of egg would land on her chest, then tumble downwards to her lap. Frankie would pick it up, and toss it in to her mouth like he were shooting a basketball hoop. On one of the occasions, he actually missed and it hit her on the cheek instead. Tommy looked up from his meal and laughed, pointing the fork at her. "Now, we would have let you out of the chair if you hadn't tried to escape yesterday. Hitting my friend here in the face and kicking me in the balls? Anything you promise us could be a complete lie. And it probably is, we know what you Trapattoni's are like. Just like your father, I bet. Old fart that he is, close to his death bed I heard. I'd be surprised if he didn't have a heart attack hearing that his sweet little Jacky had been kidnapped."
"We should send him her knickers."
"I like that."

Frankie was handed the other plate, and he took them both to the kitchen where the sound of tap water could be heard from the bedroom. Obviously he was washing the plates, scraping the remainder of the scrambled egg down the sink. "How's Francesca?" He called through.
"What do you think?"
"Still moaning for you to stop getting up at 6am and going to work all day?"
"She doesn't understand that the reason she has that fancy house and nice clothes is because I work all day. Try telling her that if I didn't, she wouldn't get to go shopping all day." Tommy smiled at Jacky, flicking a few strands of loose hair from her face. Frankie returned, licking his fingers and telling them both he was going for a shower. His partner nodded, and the two of them were left alone again.

"Tell me a little about yourself, Jacky. What do you like, are you a spoiled little brat like my girlfriend is? You put on a sad, puppy dog face and Daddy gets you what ever you want? What a fool." He stood up and walked to the window, opening the blinds and watching out at the sky begin to brighten. The nights were coming in earlier, and the mornings starting later. The sign of winter was upon them alright. The cold Christmas would be here soon, and their present was just a little early this year. All wrapped up with silver tape, she even sang festive tunes according to Frankie. "Why won't you be nice to Frankie, huh? Maybe we can come to an arrangement, show us a little trust and we'll allow you a little more freedom."

Her fists were clenched tighter than they ever had been, but they were right. If her father ever did hear about her kidnapping, it most likely would be the death of him. Good thing she had had to foresight to prevent her father from finding out in a situation like this. Ralph would never tell, that was certain. If anything he would fabricate a story about the necessity to urgently go out of the country for one reason or another. She couldn't do anything about them insulting her father in her current position and she knew an attempt to do so would only minimize what little energy she did have left.

"Oh...the sound of wasted...perfectly good...food." She sighed in mock defeat. "But really, I wish I could regain the feeling in my arms again..." She thought as she waited for them to re-enter the room and discuss today's plans. First thing was first, she had to gain the trust of the Simones. Only then could she make steps to help her clan. Being tied up like this wasn't good for them or for her and from what she heard they needed her, badly. For now, she chose to focus on his strange, yet valid questions.

"Personally, I don't care about your love life dilemmas, but to answer your question, no. I'm nothing like the girl you think I am. I was trained to be a fighter from the moment I was put on this earth and my father never let me forget it. That's why you will lose this war. Because you DON'T know the Trapattoni family clan at all and you never will, you piss ant!" She sneered at him, still holding an air of aristocracy among peasants, while restraining herself from spitting in his face. She couldn't do that, she needed out of this chair desperately.

"Frankie is lower ranking and lower class. I can tell that without a second guess. You on the other hand are not. Granted you're still scum and I'll more than likely kill you someday, but just die knowing that you are more tolerable than Frankie. Besides..." She continued, "You never hit me without me hitting you first." She stated, answering his second question. "On a brighter and less insulting note.." She began, trying to clear her parched throat. "What exactly do I have to do to prove to you that I'm not going to run? It's not like I can gain much trust shackled to this chair." She questioned, willing to hear, and most likely accept his offer.

Trained to be a fighter? Well that was good news for them, wasn't it? Give her a slight chance, and she'd overcome them. He was more than happy to keep her tied to this chair for the duration of her stay, but he figured she would only get more and more cranky that way. The topic of discussion then changed to Frankie. "Hey, that's enough of that. Frankie's a good kid." Kid? He was only two years younger than Tommy (who was 26). "He never does a thing wrong, just, I'm sure you've seen it with your family as well. He's the kind of guy that no matter how hard he tries, he'll never reach the top. Always be something or someone stopping him." As he was unaware of her true role as family Boss, he didn't realise that she would understand fully what he was meaning. Frankie Dupraz had more French blood in him than Italian, which didn't go well for him when it came to moving up the ranks. It was a shame as well, because he was one of their best soldiers.

While he still washed himself in the shower, Tommy showed Jacky the handgun he had. A German-made pistol, which fired large .45 rounds. It was known as the H&K USP, the signature weapon of the Bernardino family, or that's what Frankie unofficially called it anyway. "This gun is gonna be aiming at you when I untie you. If you make the slightest attempt to do something stupid, then it's going to go off and make a painful hole in your leg. Believe me, it hurts." Tommy began by tearing away the duct tape from her wrists, then quickly retreated back a few steps so she could undo the leg strappings herself. All the while, the metal object fixated on her movements. "Remember, slowly. The quicker you start to move, the more my finger will start to slip on this trigger."

By now, Frankie had left the shower and strolled in to the bedroom, intrigued at what Tommy was doing. Was he insane? The gun gave little relief, she could probably dodge the bullet with lightning speed, no doubt. Frankie was more comfortable with her bound to something immobile. "What's happening here?"
"She's stretching her arms and legs."
"I don't like this."
"Frankie, relax."
"Relax?"
"Yes, relax."
Frankie took a handful of clothes back in to the bathroom, and changed in to a pair of jeans and a black-and-white checked shirt, sleeves rolled up as usual. The sweet smell of deodorant filled the room as the bottle sprayed underneath his arms.
"Vinnie's coming to visit, should be here any minute now. Don't do anything funny in front of the boss, Jacky. He's the only one that says whether you stay alive."

"Yeah, yeah...I gotcha ya." She mumbled as he quickly undid her wrists. Kaytlin stretched her arms above her head and listened to the cracking sounds her bones made in protest to their recent treatment. Letting out a whistle, she admired the huge bruises left on her arms. "Wow...don't think I've ever had bruises this impressive..." She murmured, rubbing her arms vigorously to get the blood flowing again before she slowly worked the duct tape off of her ankles. Over all, her body was a mess of bruises, her face was a mess, and her eyes were blood shot.

"Oh hush Frankie. Do I really look like I'm in the condition to throw a punch or dodge a bullet? I have no intention of trying, though I am going to make a dash for the toilet!!!" She slowly made her way to the bathroom with her hands up. Before they could protest, she slammed the door shut and locked it. She knew that they could try and shoot her through it, but she knew Tommy would count this as a test, and she was going to pass. Some mumbling outside, more than likely protests from Frankie, kept her from relaxing. "Hey! Keep it down out there!" She called.

After relieving herself and washing her hands, she emerged slowly from the bathroom, hands above her head. "Ok, look. I counted twenty potential weapons, three potentially lethal, in that bathroom. You'll notice that my hands are above my head and that I have not a weapon on my person. Does that prove I'm not going to hurt you two boneless chickens?" She asked as she continued to stretch and groan. She arched her back, not getting enough of the feeling of crackling joints. "Now...something to eat..." She mumbled to herself while walking into the kitchen. She was tired of waiting for their permission, if they were going to shoot her, then they could shoot her. But she knew they wouldn't. That would look like incompetence to Vincent. After all, did they really want to make it look like that they had to shoot a woman in order to keep their asses from getting beat.

"Good God...you have nothing to eat in here. Two eggs, white bread, and shreds of...turkey, is no meal, but I'll take it." Before she could inhale the bread and meat, their was a sharp knock on the door. "Hmmm...now, let's talk to Vincent." She growled softly.

Tommy had kept close to Jacky, his gun still ready to fire. There were knives in the kitchen drawer, and even though she tried to tell them that she could have taken a weapon from the bathroom, he still didn't trust her to pick up a knife and push it in a private area for later use. She had already done that once yesterday, and it nearly cost them their prisoner. "Well, he's going to come round and give us a little update on how your family is getting on. I'm looking forward to what he's got to say. I'm sure you will, too." Frankie remained in the bedroom, finishing changing himself when Tommy let Vincent in to the apartment. He was a man in his late forties, although time hadn't been kind to the man. A receding hairline had already been a problem since his mid thirties, and although he still had his hair, it formed a rather large forehead.

"What's she doing in the kitchen? Is this how you keep all your hostages, Frankie?"
"No, Boss! It was Tommy that cut her loose."
"Don't worry, she's not getting anywhere."
"I don't care, all it'll take is a quick kick to knock that gun out of your hand, Tommy. Then what? She runs out the door, down the stairs and starts screaming for someone to help. Then our whole plan is shot to shit. We can't deal with both the Simone's and the Trapattoni's just now."
"Right, the point's been taken."
"I don't think you understand the seriousness of all of this."
"I do, I do."
"Well start acting like it." Vincent turned to Jacky. "Now, how are you today Miss Trapattoni?"

Frankie walked through the bedroom door and sat down on the couch, motioning for Vincent to join him, yet the man declined, instead slowly etching closer to Jacky herself. Not even Vincent knew that he was currently staring at the woman in sole charge of the Trapattoni crime family. Her face was bruised, and he smiled at that. They'd been rough to her, but he'd be surprised when he found out that she had been causing all sorts of problems since the moment she woke up -- a small, young woman who was getting on top of two grown men. Useless.

Jacky smirked, placing her hand on her hip, “Don’t blow a gasket old man, I just needed to take a piss.” She stated as she picked up an apple out of the fruit basket and taking a bite. “So, tell me, what is the news on the field? After all, considering your son is currently present, I assume you haven’t turned on my family just yet.” She stated, trying to gain what information he would grant her.

Vincent’s regard to the current state of her face didn’t allude her, “Also, despite how fucked up my face might be, it’s still far more presentable than your ugly mug. With all due respect.”

What none of them had realized yet was that the Trappatoni’s were not fools. Long ago, she had set up a standard for withdrawal. Should their numbers fall to a predetermined number, they were to go to a warehouse owned by the Trappatoni family just outside of the city to wait out whatever led them to such low numbers unless otherwise informed by her father, currently suffering from dementia, or, more importantly, herself. She was to be assumed dead after a month’s absence. She knew it wouldn’t take long now for them to reach that number and slip away from the battle. She only hoped that it would happen before the Ambrosini's turned. It would be far more difficult to escape two clans than it would be to escape one. After all, lost turf could be regained, men could be recruited, but if the entire army were wiped out, the Trappatoni family would fall.

As Jacky stared at Vincent, she worried that her lies wouldn’t hold up for long. What would she do if they did hide? They would come after her, more than likely. Under threat of torture and death, could she keep her secret or would she crack under the pressure?

"Frankie, Tommy... if you ever feel the need to use anymore force to keep Miss Trapattoni in check, then you're allowed to do it. I think she has to learn a little respect goes a long way, especially with the people who have kidnapped you." Tommy nodded, it looked like he even smiled and rubbed his hands for a second at that news. "Now, Miss Trapattoni. I thought I would come round to tell you that your family seem to be on the losing side of the war. Now that's not to say that they haven't killed alot of Simone's, because they have. But they're not doing well at all. Seems like your father isn't doing well, either."

The three men seemed to be focusing all of their attention on the girl, an unusual staring contest which she would probably lose. "Now," Begun Vincent, grabbing Jacky's arm. "You're going to tell me a little about your family. What contacts do they have? The Russians? I've seen you lot talking with them a few times, making a couple of deals. I need to know if they'll come to their aid if we decide to attack."

“Oh whatever…” Jacky thought as Vincent authorized more abusive measures. “Fine, they’ll need whatever they can get.” Jacky murmured throwing a glance over to Tommy and Frankie. She knew that they were losing against the Simones. This was exactly why Jacky had tried to avoid conflict in the first place. Simply put, they were outnumbered three to one. Oh, she was sure that with her guidance, the Simones could have been taken care of, but alas, that wasn’t the case. Her father’s worsening condition disheartened her, but only for a moment.

Jacky sighed under the pressure from the staring of three ruthless men, “Fine. I’ll tell you…” She murmured, lowering her head. “But it’s going to take a while.” A smirk began to play on her features. “My family migrated here from Europe, where in Europe, I don’t know. But anyway, Great Great Grandma Velda decided she wanted to open a spice shop and met a wonderful man named Ferdenand….” She went on and on with her family history including cousins, awkward marriages, uncles, aunts, nieces, nephews, etc. “What? He asked to know about my family…” She thought mischievously to herself.

“Hmmm…Russians, huh? Well I do eat at a Russian bistro every now and then. Could that be what you mean?” She mused softly, wondering how far she could push them. Her goal was to get them agitated enough that the gun would be lowered from her back long enough for her to make a move. She was still in arms reach of the kitchen drawer and still had the apple in her hand.

Vincent leaned backwards against a counter, his arms were folded, and he was angry. He didn't try to make that obvious, tried to keep calm, knowing that she was looking for a reaction out of any of the three. It was useless, trying to ask her something. They weren't going to get a straight answer, it was going to be a twisted one, which had little relevance to what he wanted to know. "Right, that's enough." Vincent moaned, grabbing Jacky and tossing her away from the kitchen, and more importantly; the kitchen drawer. Not that Vincent was thinking about the weapons in the drawer next to her.

"Frankie, I want her tied up. Keep her tied up. None of this 'letting her walk about the apartment as if she owns the place'. She's your prisoner. Treat her like she's one." Vincent wasn't planning on staying long. He wanted to come round, see how Frankie was doing, and that she hadn't escaped yet. Tommy was left to watch over her while Vincent took the young apartment owner in to a corner, away from ear shot. They discussed business, like always, while Tommy kept guard.

"You heard what the Boss says. The duct tape is coming back out." Tommy said, turning his back to her for a second, an amatuer mistake because in the process, the weapon was obviously facing away from her as well. Where was that duct tape, didn't Frankie keep it somewhere in the living room?

“Yeah, yeah…duct tape…yay…” She muttered as she stood next to Tommy with her arms folded. She was pissed too. Not only were her men dying just out of her reach, but she was stuck dealing with these impatient idiots. Truth be told, they did have Russian connections, and ironically enough their meeting place was at a bistro. Too bad he didn’t let her get to that part of the story. “Oh well…his loss.” She thought to herself as she examined the situation. Boss and idiot together in a corner, nothing suggestive there, and Tommy still pointing the damn gun.

“Oh Jesus fucking loves me today!” She thought as Tommy made the biggest rookie mistake he could have made. He turned his back to Jacky. Gripping her apple tightly, she swiftly lifted her knee into his groin from behind, smashed the apple into the back of his head, and before he could fall, she twisted his right arm behind his back and commandeered his gun. Allowing him to fall to the floor, she shot him once in the leg. Not to kill him, but to keep him from interfering in what she had to do. “An automatic…sweet…” She thought as she pointed her gun at Tommy’s head.

“Now Vincent, I believe we are on even terms. You see, I’m currently holding a gun to your son’s head. If you want to have a son in a few minutes, you’ll do as I say. First, I want your cell phone. Set it on the floor and then kick it in my direction. Second, you and Frankie will walk into the bathroom and close the door. Count to one hundred Mississippi’s. Then, come collect your son if you can and kiss your ass’s goodbye, because you haven’t kidnapped the boss’s daughter. You kidnapped the boss herself!” Her eyes were fixed on her prey, Tommy, Frankie, and Vincent. Her hand, unwavering, as she awaited their compliance.

The bullet's noise seemed to bounce off every single wall in the apartment, but Tommy's scream was worse. It was a loud yell, a pain-filled one as well. He collapsed to the ground, hand running down his leg, clutching the area just above the bullet-wound. The piece of lead was still stuck in his body, scraping against bone with every slight movement that he made, and what annoyed him the most was he couldn't stop his leg shaking. "She's fucking shot me! Fucking... fuck!" The wound appeared to limit his vocabulary to the same, single swear word. His eyes closed, rocking sideways on the spot. The wooden floor was now painted with red, his trousers damp and sticky.

Vincent instantly put his hands up, Frankie was a little more calm about the situation and leaned back against the wall separating the living area from the bedroom. OK, this was a problem. What was Tommy thinking, turning his back and letting her gain control of the weapon? Idiot, absolute idiot. He remained quiet, however, instead letting Jacky and Vincent talk this one out. Tommy was trying to convince Vincent to listen, because it appeared to look as if the Boss was having thoughts about whether he really needed Tommy to stay alive. However, he did as he was told, and began to retreat in to the bedroom when he narrowed his eyes. She was the Boss? He didn't believe it, had to be her boasting because she had the upper hand for now. Vincent shook his head, knitting his eyebrows together just above the bridge of his nose then closed the bedroom door behind him.

"So she's the Boss, huh?"
"She's not the Boss, Frankie."
"She said she was."
"I'm Frank-fucking-Sinatra, do you believe that?"
"You're not."
"And she's just a little, spoiled brat who's trying to piss us off."
"Yeah, but how do you know she's lying?"
"Because I do. She's twenty years old... her dad is the Boss.. and she just shot my fucking boy!"
Frankie shook his head with a sigh, opening the window of his bedroom and climbing on to the fire escape. "You stay up here, I'm going down to catch her at the front door."