AT WHAT COST?

XII - VEGAS

She had become a con artist in her own rights, but to her, the means justified the end. Ray was her friend and the diplomat had immunity and thereby wouldn't have his luggage searched and the food items rejected due to customs practices. He was already making the trip there and back and it would be quicker than ordering the stuff off some shody website and hoping for the best. She was on a time crunch after all, day 115 had rolled around already.

Ray was overcome with emotion when she gave him the basket of goodies. She had looped the correct Russian phrase to present the gift for about 30 minutes and was able to imitate it flawlessly, before forgetting it altogether. She made sure that he was alone when she gave him the gift, and he rewarded her with a bear hug and a promise to protect her at the cost of his life. His eyes were red with unshed tears and she grinned, elated that the gesture had evoked such emotion in him.

Angelo. Angelo Leone.

The most difficult man she knew. And she knew her father. His needs were not as distinct and easy to understand as the other men. He needed everything she had to give. Her mind, her time, her body, her respect, her submission. The last part usually came with gritted teeth while they had company, but freely in the bedroom. That was the only place it felt natural to give in. In the business realm, she was an asset. She knew she deserved to be revered the same way Guido now was, but the man was blind to how much of an influence his assistant had on him.

When they discussed things at home, the faintest squint of an eye at an idea was enough cause for reconsideration. That reconsideration usually bred a better, more thorough plan, which had yielded him success after success. She wasn't after the glory of it, he knew what she did. What she wanted was respect. To be seen as a competitor and a formidable opponent. It was a premature desire for Vanessa to have, seeing her time on the clock paled in comparison to the men she served, but she would go on to gain this respect and then some.

Aim for the stars, because if it fails, you'll land on the moon.

Right now Vanessa was just tired. The agreed end date was in sight and she was burning the candle at both ends. On one side she was filling her head with business theory after theory. Learning about different sectors and how they interacted. Learning of conflicts occurring right now that needed backing in the form of weapons, of which they had plenty to sell. Trying to understand the share of the drug trafficking market they commanded. It wasn't very big but it was potent, being one of the must lucrative parts of their dealings, alongside weapons and now, tech.

Another thing she had willed into existence.

On the other side, the emotional side, she was fighting an uphill battle. She was still upright, but for how long? She didn't want to be with Lo. She didn't want to fall for him. But things certainly seemed headed in that direction. The way Malia and Sandra lived their lives would not work for her. Always being the afterthought. But the fight was hard and she was running out of ammo.

Why be with the most powerful man in the room, if you could be the most powerful woman. That was the thought cling on to.

Men are... men. Their allure outside of their genitals left something to be desired. She knew she couldn't never go back to a regular guy. It was a shame really, considering she was becoming more and more familiar with the depraved side of Angelo. He had shielded that from view at first, but she saw enough bloody suits and gunshot residue on this fingers to know that it existed. But it was her truth. She wasn't a hybristophiliac, a woman interested in a man exclusively for the violent acts he committed. She was starting to see then as a necessary evil of the business.

She couldn't be with a regular guy cause it would be too easy. She would have chewed up a 9-5 office worker before this whole ordeal, but now?

She had changed.