Lex languidly watched, with almost zero interest, when they took the girl and Conte walked away. He closed the trunk and thought what was next. He didn’t get any commands to follow, but then again he would have to report to Rothschild as well.

So he followed. The shoes felt uncomfortable by now.

“Mr Conte”, he started when he was in the bar and in speaking distance, at least when he raised his volume a bit.
His thought was interrupted by the same man who had laughed at his accent earlier on. He said something Lex didn’t quite understand, but he did understand the hand the man had laid on his waist.

Lex had enough.

Everyone in the room heard the loud crack coming from the man’s wrist when Lex applied force to it and twisted it, and only a deaf man could have avoided hearing his cry of pain. Lex kicked him away, and he landed on a chair, and the chair landed on the floor.

The pale face hadn’t even twitched.

“This man broke his wrist. He needs a doctor”, he said. Then he turned his attention back on Conte.

“The girl belong to Herr Rothschild as long as he please. We need to tell him”, Lex continued his earlier thought as if nothing had happened. He stretched his fingers and all of them cracked. He smoothed the jacket he was still holding.

The girl looked up—

Carmine’s eyes widened.  She was an assassin?

The girl stopped struggling.  Stared.  Muted fear mingled with bridled defiance, shone out of her eyes with great force.

“Has to be Risso’s,” Sal remarked.

Carmine sputtered.  ”She’s—  Risso’s?”

One of the men whistled.  ”She’s just a little girl.”  He shared a glance with the other gunman.  ”Ain’t Risso’s killer s’posed to be something fierce?”

“T-Take her out.”  Carmine had to clear his throat.  ”Take her to my office.  And… And strap her to a chair.”

Sal reached in and hoisted her over his shoulder with as much ease as picking up a stack of papers.

Carmine watched his father’s coffin lower into the ground, a blank expression on his face.  His mother yawned beside him, the black lace of her dress revealing just a bit too much tanned cleavage.  He could practically hear her thoughts, At least he left ample money.  Thank goodness.

Thank goodness.

The only people who truly cared were either dead or ‘business associates.’  Carmine felt no real pain, only dread.  A heavy pressure, increasing.  It radiated out of his chest, its focal point, and spread out to the extremities of his limbs.  Like a sickness.

The priest droned on.  Someone was fake-sobbing.  One of the capos’ wives.  Carmine wondered whether she and his father had—

When he looked up, his eyes locked on a young woman standing across from him, on the other side of the coffin.  Long, auburn hair.  Wide eyes, a little childish, a little fierce.

He forgot about the capo’s wife.

Someone who would’ve truly cared…  Carmella.

“One of your father’s nieces,” his mother whispered, having noticed Carmine’s rapt attention.  ”Long Island, I believe.”

Carmine’s eyes dimmed.  The young woman looked away, and suddenly she appeared ordinary.  He could see now all the defects, all the ways she wasn’t Carmella grown up.

Carmella’s coffin hadn’t been empty.  He’d touched his sister’s body himself, hadn’t he?

He kicked some dirt onto his father’s coffin as it was lowered.

Carmine followed Sal back into the bar, too wrapped up in his own thoughts to ask the mysterious deliverer to follow.

Lex leered at the men who slowly lowered their guns. He could have chuckled at them… if he hadn’t been so relieved that they actually lowered their guns and that Carmine was eager to see the target, of course.

“Then follow me, Mr Conte, please”, Lex said and lowered his hands too. He shifted the coat on his arm, subtly making sure that all the papers were there, and gestured towards the door. Then with long steps, Lex walked away, leaving his blades behind.

When they came to the car, Lex turned to Conte.

Then he lifted the trunk lid, just enough for daylight to show who was in there. The girl was still struggling with her dim consciousness.

“You were having haircut when she tried shoot you from rooftop”, Lex said. The way in which he stared into Conte’s eyes was not mean. But it was stern and, surprisingly, honest.

“What do I do with her? I was not told further instructions.”

In truth, he hadn’t been told almost anything.

Rothschild?

Carmine shared a glance with Sal.  The woman had an awfully deep voice, too— had it gotten deeper as they spoke?  Carmine had to remind himself of the deceptiveness of appearances in this business.  He squinted, taking a cautious step closer.

But the next detail erased all suspicion from his mind, doubling instead the confusion in his expression.  ”A killer?”

Risso!

“Where is he— the killer?”

Of course Risso would send an assassin after him; that he hadn’t done it sooner was surprise enough.  And yet that meant—  It meant everyone who had any say in it had given the bastard a green light!  Cianci at least.  Cianci and his father had had a deal.  Was everything off now?  Was Cianci coming after him too?

Carmine’s head was spinning.

“Lower your guns.”  He didn’t even pause to notice, and dislike, that his words came out in a stammer.  Suddenly his thoughts were all whips and blood and terror.  His and others’.

Arms went down with hesitation.  Carmine took another step closer.  ”Show me the killer.”

“Gut.” Lex weighed what should’ve been said next.
Wrong words could have led to a wrong kind of path. Not to the road of failure, but to a longer road. A messy road. Lex was nothing if not efficient, and not comfortable with mindless drivel and unnecessary conflicts such as this.

“I am Lex. Herr Rothschild hired me to keep you alive. He knows who I am.” If not, you shall all lose your ability to walk.

All kinds of escape strategies ran through Lex’s mind. Lex did know that Rothschild had no reason to get rid of his most efficient mercenary, but things had the tendency to change. Especially on grounds Lex had never before walked upon.
Saying the name might’ve been a bad step, but irritatingly necessary.

“I save your life, hour ago, and that is why I report. I brought you and Rothschild a killer.”

Lex heard someone snickering, very likely at his accent.
“Your French is terrible”, Red Star snickered. “Repeat after me…”

Carmine looked nothing short of shocked at the mention of Rothschild.  This woman knew Rothschild?

“What’s going on?” he repeated himself.  Then after a sheepish pause during which he tried to look as unperturbed as his voice was not, added, “Yes, I do.”

Did this woman work with Rothschild?  Work against Rothschild?  Had they ever slept together?!

It was Carmine’s turn to frown, maybe blush slightly.  Why had he thought of that?

“Sometimes you, too, need to fall in front of the weapons”, the Red Star jested. The irony of it was that the Red Star’s forehead got hit by kickback more often than the targets he was aiming at.

Out of everything, this was something Lex had not expected to happen. The long blade fell after the others, and Lex remained frozen.

The boy who arrived looked very much like the figure Lex had been following for the past days. The assassin fought back a frown.

Before speaking, he took a deep breath. He ignored everyone else and looked straight at who he presumed to be Mr Conte. “You know Ebenhard Rothschild, yes?”

Sal looked down at the blades, and back up, and down again in slow sweeps of his drooping eyes.  If anything, he felt even less inclined to lead this person to Carmine.

Of course, Carmine Jr. always had a way of taking every situation down a few notches in respectability.  Sal heard the door behind him open.  Then came Carmine’s voice, about as threatening as a kid asking for candy.

“What’s going on?”  Then.  ”Sal, who is this?”

Both Sal and the other two men drew their guns.  Three barrels were now trained on the stranger.  

A spark of mild interest lit the bartender’s eyes, maybe for the first time in years.

Well, it had been a great idea to not bring the girl. The idea of her fidgeting in the trunk of that terribly old car, however, wasn’t of the most reassuring kind.

The real weapons Lex had had nothing to do with physical objects the man before him perhaps had talking about… But it wasn’t his business to know something it took years for Lex to understand.

Lex took his hand to the pocket of the jacket he was holding and dropped the few blades on the floor, save for one. The longest. It rested upon Lex’s slender finger, blade towards the ceiling. “That is all I have. Be quick about it, sir. My business is urgent.”

While the faintest, most forced smile tugged the painted lips, something about it all was unnerving, and about as suspicious as that man’s facial expression.

… really? 

Sal stared right back, mild irritation mingling with his trademark suspicion.  ”Gonna hafta pat you down, make sure you got no weapons.”

Meanwhile in the back, Carmine did his best not to fidget.  Or stand up and see what the matter was.  What was the matter?  Sal wasn’t back yet.

Carmella mrred impatiently.

Carmine nodded in agreement.

He felt like a schoolboy all of a sudden.  Came very close to smoothing down his hair to look his best.  He removed a gun from the desk and laid it across his knees instead.