A/N: So I had to wrap up this chapter a little earlier than I had expected. The last part of what was supposed to be in this chapter will be in the next chapter. I did this as a little gift to my lovely readers. I have been extremely busy in the past few months. I'm currently applying to medical school so I've spent the last few months writing essays and filling out applications, leaving me with almost no time or energy to work on this fic. I finally had some time/inspiration a few weeks ago and started writing all you see below.

However, I'm going to very busy again in the coming weeks as I prepare for interviews and write more application essays. As a result, I thought it best if I just posted everything I have at this point because if I was going to finish the chapter as I originally intended, I wouldn't be done for at least two more months because I would have practically no time to write. And the thought of making you guys wait until late October/early November for the next chapter made me feel horrible. As one reviewer put it, it's been over four months since I last update and I'm SO SORRY. But enough rambling. Here's the next chapter! Please enjoy!

Extra notes: Roman = Rome

I dream of Lady Liberty

Part 1

Elizabeta looked at the cards in her hand and grimaced. They were all useless. At least she thought they were. The rules of the game had been hastily explained to her and not very well. Beside her, Gilbert looked smug. Across the table sat Alfred, whose expression was unreadable. She hadn't thought that someone who was normally so full of energy could pull off such a convincing poker face. The last person at the table was an elderly man wearing a tropical print shirt and bright yellow shorts. Of all the players at the table, he looked to care the least about the results of the game.

When the betting was over and it was time for the players to reveal their hands, Elizabeta discovered that her cards weren't completely useless.

"High card," the dealer announced. Elizabeta had no idea what that meant.

Gilbert was next. His smiled widened as he laid down his cards.

"Full house."

Elizabeta knew enough about poker to know that it was a good hand. Or at least it was better than hers.

The elderly man was next.

"Two pair."

The man only shrugged.

Alfred, who had remained completely composed the whole game, broke into a wide grin and slapped his cards down on the table.

"Straight flush," the dealer said. "We have a winner."

The smug look vanished from Gilbert's face and was replaced by one of anger.

The older gentleman stood up from his chair. "Good game," he said to Alfred.

"Same to you," Alfred replied brightly.

"I still don't understand how I lost," Gilbert said after they left the table. "There's no one in my family better than me. I've been kicking my brother's ass at poker since we were kids."

"Well, you've never played against me before." Alfred was still staring at the receipt in his hands. "I won my town's junior poker tournament three years in a row. When it comes to Texas Hold'em, I'm the best. The only one who has ever beaten me is my brother Matt."

"It would have been nice if I'd known that earlier," Gilbert grumbled. "You better use that money wisely. Don't spend it all in one place, kid."

"Don't worry. This is all going to towards the game station I'm going to set up in my apartment in New York."

"Or, maybe it could go towards gas for the car?" Elizabeta suggested.

Alfred tucked the receipt into his pocket. "Nah."

Elizabeta sighed. "Well, do you guys want to keep playing? Because I'm broke."

"And I'm not lending you any more money," Gilbert said.

"I don't know if I'm readying to pack it in yet," Alfred said. "I'm feeling lucky."

"Isn't that what everyone says before they lose big?" Elizabeta asked. "Anyway, if we stay here any longer, I'm afraid Lovino might actually take off."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Gilbert said. "Come on Al, let's go find the slot machines. Liz, you can go find Captain Cranky."

"Meet us at the front in 20," she called after them.

"Okay, see you in an hour," Gilbert said without turning back.

Elizabeta didn't bother correcting him. She found Lovino at the bar a few minutes later. He had a half-empty drink in front of him and wore a look of utter boredom on his face.

"You look pleased." She sat down next to him. "What are you drinking?'

"Hell if I remember but it's my third one. Take it if you want."

"No thanks." She drummed her fingers against the bar top. "So, aren't you going to ask about the poker game?"

"I didn't know I was supposed to care."

"You can pretend to."

Lovino sighed. "Who won the damn match?"

"Alfred."

"The idiot cowboy? I'm almost impressed."

"You're such a brat. He won $300."

"You say that like it's something amazing."

"Isn't it?"

"No, it's pathetic."

"What? How?"

"$300 is nothing."

"Easy for you to say."

Lovino shrugged. "This whole place is pathetic really. Why did you choose this casino?"

"I thought it would be fun. It's the grand opening weekend after all."

The name of the casino was The White Rabbit. Elizabeta had discovered it while flipping through the guidebook at the motel. While it was not as large as most of the surrounding casino resorts, it had a simple, yet elegant design. The interior was all black and white marble; large white arches separated the different sections of the resort, and at every corner were red and white rosebushes. All the employees wore a black suit with a white bowtie and white gloves. Pinned to the lapel of the suit jacket was an artificial rose that was painted half white, half red. To complete the ensemble, all the staff wore white rabbit ears on their heads and some wore fluffy rabbit tails. Elizabeta had even seen a woman with whiskers painted on her face. Overall, the casino was welcoming and charming and lacked the intimidation factor of many of the surrounding, more well-known establishments in the area.

Lovino tossed back the rest of his drink. "This is hardly a grand opening," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"Look at the turnout. I'm not even affiliated with the place and it's fucking embarrassing. No one is here."

Elizabeta noticed that the bartender was glaring at them and wished that Lovino would lower his voice. "What are you talking about?" she asked. "There are plenty of people here."

"Yeah, you could say that, if it was a Tuesday afternoon. But a grand opening? No, this is fucking sad. If the rest of the weekend is like this, this place won't last a month. Three weeks maybe, if they're lucky."

"And what makes you the authority on casinos?"

Lovino was quiet for a few seconds before he finally said, "My grandpa owned a few. Not just here, but all over. He only had one in Vegas."

Elizabeta's jaw dropped. "You mean the Ma—" She slapped a hand over her mouth. Lovino's glare was icy. "S-Sorry."

"You talk way too much." Lovino signaled to the bartender. The man scowled and turned away. "What the hell was that? Asshole."

"I'm confused though. This place is beautiful. Why wouldn't people want to come here?"

"Why indeed," said a new voice. Elizabeta turned to see a well-dressed black woman standing behind her. Next to her stood two large men wearing plain dark suits and blank faces. None of them wore rabbit ears.

"Fuck," Lovino said. His face has gone white. "Fayola?"

The woman smiled. "Lovino. This must be my lucky day."

Elizabeta's heart skipped a beat. Her mind was instantly filled with questions. Who was this woman? How did she know Lovino? Was she dangerous? Was she a part of the Family? If they needed to escape, would they be able to?

"W-What are you doing here?" Lovino asked.

"I could ask you the same thing. If the rumors I've been hearing are true, you should be looking for a place to hide. Not drinking in my casino."

"Your casino?"

"Yes, my casino. We should catch up, Lovino. How many years has it been since we saw each other? Five? Six? I have so many things to tell you. And I'm sure you have a tale or two for me. Come, we will talk in my private suite."

Lovino didn't move. Elizabeta hardly dared to breathe. Her eyes scanned the room looking for the nearest exit. There was one to their left, but it was far enough away that she didn't know if they would be able to reach it if the two men with Fayola decided to give chase, which seemed extremely likely.

Fayola's smile widened. "You don't trust me. Cautious as ever. You are truly Roman's grandson. Have no fear, Lovino. You and your friend will be fine. Come on, both of you."

Elizabeta was shocked to be included. "M-Me too?"

"Yes, of course. The more the merrier. Or, you could always stay here. Jean"—Fayola gestured to one of the men beside her—"would be happy to keep you company, I'm sure."

"We'll go together," Lovino said firmly.

"Then let's go."

Fayola began to walk away. Elizabeta and Lovino followed and the two men brought up the rear. Elizabeta stole a glance at Lovino. His eyes were fixed on Fayola. His face a mix of emotions that she couldn't read. No one said a word until they reached Fayola's private suite. The large suite was designed very similar to the casino hotel. There was even a small potted rose bush by the front door.

Fayola led them to a room decorated with abstract artwork. Fittingly, the paintings were all done using only black and white paint. Fayola indicated that they should sit. Elizabeta and Lovino slowly lowered themselves onto the plush black and white cushions.

"Can I get either of you something to eat? Drink?" Fayola asked.

"No. Let's just get on with it," Lovino said.

"Straight to business then. That's one of the things I've always liked about you, Lovino. I will answer all your questions in time. But first, introductions." Fayola turned her attention to Elizabeta. She held out a hand. "Fayola Basurato."

Elizabeta hesitated before she shook the hand in front of her. "Elizabeta Hédeváry." She didn't bother giving her false name. She knew there was no point. Fayola's grip was firm and Elizabeta took a moment to study the woman who sat before her. She was a handsome woman with smooth light brown skin. She looked to be in her mid to late forties. She wore her hair in braids that spilled freely down her shoulder. The smile she wore was friendly but her eyes were dark and unreadable.

"And how are you acquainted with Lovino?" Fayola asked.

"I…We—" Elizabeta struggled to find the right words.

"It doesn't matter," Lovino interrupted. "What do you want, Fay? Why are you in Vegas?"

Fayola sighed. "Such impatience. Alright, here is my story. After your grandfather killed my husband, I thought it better I leave not just Palermo, but Italy for good."

Lovino frowned. "We both know that isn't true. Grandpa had no part in your husband's death."

"Oh, is that so? Well, he certainly made little effort to save Emilio."

"He did what he could."

"I'm sure." Fayola was still smiling but all the warmth had left her face. "Whatever the case, Emilio's death left me completely alone. I'd never had any close friends within the Family and my own family had long since turned their back on me. So, I chose to leave Italy and that whole life behind. I did not lack for money. My husband had left me plenty. There were also the compensatory funds your grandfather had given me." Her laugh was bitter. "As if such a thing as death could be so easily compensated. Still, it helped get me here."

"Why here?" Lovino asked.

"Why not? Emilio always loved to gamble."

"It was one of the things that got him killed."

Fayola's eyes flashed with anger but her smile stayed in place. "Nonetheless, I decided to create my own little homage to my dear husband. It was easy enough finding the land, but after that everything became much more difficult. For some reason or the other, whether it is because of my sex or my race or—as one lawyer kindly put it—I simply 'don't belong', my competitors have been ruthless in their attempts to ruin this business. At every stage they've placed hurdles for me. Even something as simple as having the city approve the casino design took much longer than it should have because the owner of a very well-known casino claimed that the design was 'inappropriate'. Originally, I had planned to open last year, but because of a ridiculous lawsuit, I had to delay. As you can see, I was able to finally open this place, but even this grand opening has been ruined. Knowing that this weekend would be my grand opening, the owners of the both the neighboring establishments are hosting back to back boxing matches featuring the biggest names in the sport, as well as other festivities the details of which are unimportant. All of this explains, as you said Lovino, the embarrassing turnout."

"You're in deep shit, Fay. And I'm sorry, I really am," Lovino said. Elizabeta was surprised at the sincerity in his voice. Not only that, but the words themselves. Lovino saying sorry was a rare event indeed. "But what does this have to do with me? Because I know you didn't bring me up here to 'catch up'."

"I'm getting to that now. In two days, I and the owners of the three surrounding casino resorts will be having a private poker match. We each are to put forth a representative to compete in the match. For the others, it's just another game. For myself, it is a chance to prove to them how serious I am about this business. It is my chance to let them know how little their intimidation tactics mean to me. Winning is the only option. But of course, my competitors are doing their best to destroy this chance as well. I was informed just this afternoon that my representative—a very good and very well-known poker player—is missing. The man is under a strict contract and I have ensured that he will be paid handsomely for his services so I am nearly certain that his disappearance is none of his doing. I have the authorities searching for him but it is highly unlikely they find him before the match and I need to put forth the name of my representative before the end of today.

"So, here I was, fretting about what to do when I see on a security camera who else but you, Lovino. You cannot imagine my surprise. Although I've cut most of my ties to Palermo, I still have one or two people who keep me up to date about what is going on in the city. Tell me Lovino, because I will not believe it unless I hear it from you, is it true that Stephano Lima and his son are dead?"

Lovino's hands curled into fists. Elizabeta saw the muscles in his jaw tighten. "Yes."

"And the person responsible for their deaths is you?"

"Yes."

"But Lov—" Elizabeta was cut off by a sharp glare. She bit her lip and stared down angrily at her hands.

"Yes," Lovino repeated. "I killed them."

Fayola's eyebrows went up, but the rest of her expression remained neutral. "Is it also true that the families are uniting together?"

"Yes."

"My, my. I couldn't believe any of it at first. Even hearing it from you…Well, I suppose that explains your current…predicament."

"You still haven't explained what it is you want from me," Lovino said through clenched teeth.

"I think it's obvious. Have you really not guessed? I want to help you. Well, actually, I want you to help me so that I can help you." Fayola laced her fingers together and rested her chin on her hands. "I want you to represent me and my casino in the poker match. Before you say no, because I can see it in your face that you're just dying to refuse, let me offer an incentive. If you represent me and you win the match, I will do everything in my power to keep you and your friends safe while you're in this city. And when you decide to be on your way, I will also do my best to ensure that you reach your final destination with no trouble. Like I said earlier, I still have one or two people that keep me in the loop and these people are powerful and influential enough to say, start a rumor that you were spotted in, oh I don't know, somewhere in Mexico? Obviously, this would only serve as a temporary diversion but it would give you some time and, trust me, you need time."

"And if I say no?" Lovino asked.

Fayola sighed and leaned back in her chair. She twirled a dark braid around her finger. "I have known you since you were a baby, Lovino. I knew your mother. We were not friends but I respected her. And although our parting was bad, I deeply respected your grandfather." This time her smile was sincere. "That fool. He was a good man, for the most part." The smile vanished. "We have a history, Lovino, and the last thing I want to do is use threats against you. Unfortunately, I am desperate. If you refuse this offer, you will find the rest of your stay in this city to be very…uncomfortably, almost like being in a prison. And then there's the chance that the information regarding your whereabouts could fall into the wrong hands. Accidents do happen."

Elizabeta felt a surge of anger. "You would actually do that? Do you know what will happen if he's found?"

"Elizabeta, enough," Lovino said. She ignored him.

"What kind of person are you?" she yelled.

Fayola seemed undisturbed by her outburst. "Like I said, I'm desperate. I haven't come this far to lose like this."

"This isn't a game!"

Fayola laughed. "Sweetheart, this is Las Vegas. Everything here is a game. And in this game you win or you die. There are no other options. So, Lovino, what will it be?"

"Well it's not like I have a fucking choice," Lovino said. "I'll do it."

"Eccellente! I'm so happy. Oh darling, don't look so angry. I'm sorry for putting you in this position, but I have no other choice. Here, I'll add a bonus. Until the match, you and your friends will be able to stay here in the hotel free of charge. You may use any of the services for free as well.

"I'm not an idiot, Fay. You're only doing this to keep an eye on me," Lovino said.

Fayola shrugged. "Can you blame me? You've always been so good at running away. There's no reason any of this has to be unpleasant. I know you will win."

But what if he doesn't? Elizabeta wanted to ask but then she remembered Fayola's words. "You win or you die." She felt a shiver run down her spine.

"I will have a contract drawn up immediately," Fayola said. "Until then, you both may go. But first, if you will tell one of my men the address of your current residence, they can go get your things. I will have the Tea Party Suite and the Queen of Hearts Suite made available right away." She stood up. Elizabeta and Lovino followed suit. "Thank you again, Lovino. Words cannot express my gratitude."

... ... ...

By the time Elizabeta and Lovino were taken back to the casino lobby, she was almost bursting with questions. As soon as the two men who had escorted them were gone, the questions spilled out.

"Who was she really? Why did you say you killed Lima and Alessandro? Why did you agree to that offer? Can you even play poker? What are we supposed to do? What and I going to tell Gilbert and Alfred? What—?"

"Elizabeta!" Lovino snapped. "Can you just shut up for five minutes?"

She scowled. "How can you be such a jerk at a time like this?"

He pulled her off to the side, away from the crowds. "I'm being a jerk? I just saved your fucking life. Again. If it wasn't for you, Gilbert, and the idiot cowboy, I wouldn't even be in this damn city. This is the reason I told you to stay away from me. If I was on my own, I could get out of here easy. Fay knows that. Like she said, I've always been good at running away. But I can't do that now. Not with you and the two stooges tagging along. So I'm stuck here. We're stuck here. And not only do I have to play in that damn match, but I have to win. And yes, of course I know how to play poker. Why would you ask a question like that?"

"Because I didn't know, alright? You're not exactly forthcoming with information about yourself. And don't you dare blame the rest us for any of this. Maybe you still haven't realized it, but we're safer together. It's true!" she insisted when Lovino rolled his eyes.

"You really think that? Cause I just think we're nothing but a bigger target right now." Lovino sighed. "Arguing about this is stupid and all it's doing is giving me a headache."

"You still haven't told me about Fayola. She's a family friend, I figured that much, but what's the rest of her story? Why did she accuse your grandfather of killing her husband?"

"This isn't the time or the place to talk about that stuff. Anyway it's none of your business. Stop trying to push your way into my life." Lovino turned to go. "I'm going for a walk. Don't follow me."

"Yes, just walk away," Elizabeta yelled after him, ignoring the looks she received. "That's how you deal with everything, isn't it? You always leave." She wanted him to turn around, to yell something, anything, but he only kept walking. This only made her angrier. "Well, fuck you too," she said quietly. She leaned against one of the large marble pillars and tried to ignore the pain in her chest.

For a while, it had seemed that everything was going to be okay. Las Vegas was a huge city filled with millions of people; a place where it was especially easy to get lost in the crowd. It was precisely for that reason she hadn't raised any objections when Alfred had proposed the short detour. How was it that of all the casinos in the city, she had chosen the one run by a woman with the power to destroy their lives? So far Elizabeta's luck since coming to the city had been nothing but rotten and it didn't seem like it would be getting better any time soon.

"Liz!" Elizabeta turned to see Gilbert and Alfred walking towards her. "Where the hell have you been? We've been looking everywhere? Aren't you the one who said 20 minutes?" Gilbert grinned. "I've got a surprise for you. Guess who scored big at the slots?"

"Scored big? You only won $50," Alfred chimed in.

"Shut up! How much did you win at the slots? Nothing!"

"Yeah, but I already won $300—"

"As I was saying, it's impossible that someone as awesome as me wouldn't win anything. If either of you need tips for winning, don't be afraid to ask. What've you been up to, Liz? Where's the brat?"

Part of Elizabeta wanted to say nothing. She hated being the bearer of bad news. But the truth would come out eventually and wasn't it best that they heard it from her?

"There's something you both need to know."

... ... ...

"These room aren't half bad actually." Gilbert fell back onto one of the beds. "Nothing like the Ritz in Paris, but way better than where we were before."

They were in the Queen of Hearts Suite. It reminded Elizabeta of Fayola's personal suite, but smaller. Along with the master bedroom, the suite featured a sitting room, a bathroom with a whirlpool and an enclosed steam shower, two large flat screen TVs, a private work station, and beautiful view of the city. Due to the name of the room, Elizabeta had expected something tacky like heart-shaped mattresses or headboards, but the only thing heart-shaped in the suite was the mirror in the bathroom and she found it more charming than annoying. She wondered what the Tea Party Suite looked like. It was right across the hall but when she had tried the key she had been given, she had discovered that it had been locked from the other side. This meant Lovino was inside sleeping or just ignoring them. Most likely it was the latter.

"So, who is staying where?" Alfred asked. He had turned on the television and was scrolling through the premium channels. "Wow, we even get HBO."

"I'm not staying with the brat," Gilbert said.

"We have more pressing matters to discuss than room arraignments," Elizabeta said.

"Oh, you mean you want to talk about how your boyfriend went and fucked everything up again?"

"I told you to stop calling him that! And it's not his fault."

Gilbert had taken the news as Elizabeta had expected. With a copious amount of swearing, so loud that security had come over to ask if everything was alright. Alfred had handled the news much better. In fact, he had even seemed excited.

"It's like being in a James Bond movie," he had said. Elizabeta hadn't had the heart to tell him how serious the situation actually was.

Gilbert snorted. "Just like it wasn't his fault the diner got burnt down? He kidnapped Alfred! Don't make that face at me. You have to admit that everywhere that guy goes, bad things happen."

"So what should we do? Ditch him?"

"Well, we shouldn't rule it out as a possible option," Gilbert said slyly.

"You're unbelievable."

"Hey y'all, there's a Lord of the Rings marathon on tonight!" Alfred announced. His smile faltered when he saw their faces. "Uh, are we talking about something important?"

Elizabeta sighed. "Do either of you have a suggestion for how we might get out of this mess?"

Silence was the only response she received until Alfred piped up, "I don't think there is a way out. And, even if there was, it wouldn't even be worth it. This Fayola lady doesn't seem the type to just let things go. If we somehow got out of the city she would probably just send her people after us. And I think we have enough people chasing us."

"Al's right," Gilbert said. "There's really nothing we can do except sit back and see how everything plays out."

"But how can we just do nothing?" Elizabeta asked.

"It's really not that hard. If you're going to worry about anything, worry about whether the brat can win the poker match. He said he could play poker, but can he play it well? How do we know he's not on your level?"

"I don't think Fayola would have asked him to represent her if he wasn't good."

"Probably not as good as me," Gilbert scoffed.

Before Elizabeta could deliver a scathing reply, there came a knock at the door.

"Room service!"

Elizabeta glanced at Gilbert who only shrugged. Alfred was once more preoccupied with the television. Elizabeta's heart began to race. Slowly, she walked to the front door. She peered through the peephole. Standing outside the door was a man whose clothing identified him as a hotel employee, although he lacked the rabbit ears. Elizabeta quickly scanned the room. Her eyes landed on a glass ashtray on the table. She picked it up and held it behind her back. She opened the door a crack.

"H-How can I help you?" she asked.

The man smiled. He looked to be around her age. He had curly brown hair and large blue eyes. "I bring compliments of Mrs. Basurato. She invites you and your companions to join her this evening for dinner and a show. A popular opera singer will be performing tonight at the hotel. You will have front row seats. I expect it will be a very thrilling experience. One could call it a once in a lifetime experience."

Elizabeta bit her lip. "Um, my friends and I aren't feeling very well. Is this, uh, an invitation that can be declined?"

"That is not an option I would advise." The man was still smiling but Elizabeta could read between the lines. Not attending was not an option. Still, Elizabeta struggled to find a suitable excuse.

"I…None of us have any clothes appropriate for such an occasion." This was only partly a lie. Elizabeta and Alfred didn't have any appropriate clothing. She knew Gilbert had at least two suits in his suitcase.

The man smiled wider. "That's not a problem. Mrs. Basurato assumed as much." He reached beyond her field of vision and pulled into view a portable clothes rack. It was packed with dresses of every color. "I have a rack for the gentlemen as well."

Elizabeta could only stare. "I-I-I c-can't," she stuttered when she finally found her voice. "I-I can't possibly accept any this! I-It's all too…kind. Mrs. Basurato didn't have to go out of her way like this."

"Oh, but she did. She wants to make your stay here as comfortable and enjoyable as possible. And no need to worry about the sizes. Everything should fit perfectly."

"I….I…" Elizabeta had run out of excuses. Inwardly cursing, she had no other option but to open the door the rest of the way. "Please, come in," she said resentfully. She let the ashtray fall to the floor behind her.

"Thank you," the man said. He wheeled the clothes rack into the suite.

"Hey! What the hell is this?" Gilbert yelled.

"We've been invited to dinner," Elizabeta said. "Mrs. Basurato has been kind enough to provide us with suitable evening wear."

"And we have to go?" Alfred asked.

"Unfortunately," Elizabeta whispered. The hotel employee had left the room to retrieve the other clothes rack. He returned seconds later with a clothes rack that was stuffed with suits.

"The dinner is tonight at seven in the ballroom on the first level. Please let me know if there is anything else I can get you," the man said. "My name is Leon. You can just call the front desk and ask for Leon and I'll be up here as fast as I can."

Elizabeta put on her best smile. "Thank you. We'll be sure to call if we need you." The smile died after she had closed the door. "Highly unlikely though," she muttered. When she turned around she saw that Gilbert had started going through the suits on the clothes rack. He pulled one out.

"You know, these are actually really good quality. This is the kind of stuff I buy."

Elizabeta brushed a thumb over a wine red dress. The material felt scratchy against her skin. "How can you tell? All those suits look the same."

Gilbert gave her a long look. "Honestly, Liz. Sometimes I wonder how we're friends." He tossed the suit onto the bed and pulled another from the rack. He glanced at it for less than a second before he said, "Al, you should wear this one. It will fit you great."

Alfred had finally moved away from the television. He took the suit from Gilbert and examined it suspiciously. "How do you know?"

"Trust me. This is my area of expertise."

"Unlike poker."

"Shut it, cowboy!"

Elizabeta turned away from them and focused on the clothes in front of her. Her eyes fell on a strapless dark green dress. It was a full length gown with a sash around the waist. The material was soft and cool in her hands. As she took the dress from the rack, there came another knock at the door.

"Room service!" This time the voice sounded female.

"Are you serious?" Elizabeta groaned. "Again?" When she opened the door she found two more hotel employees. Both women wore rabbit ears and tails. In their hands they carried large black cases.

"We're hair and make-up," one of the women said. She was tall and curvy with long blond hair and light blue eyes. "Well, I'm Hair and she's Make-up." The woman pointed to her companion, an olive-skinned woman with heavy-lidded dark brown eyes and curly brown hair. They both giggled at Hair's comment. "We're here on behalf of Mrs. Basurato. And you must be Miss Hédeváry." Hair suddenly leaned forward and grasped a strand of Elizabeta's hair. Elizabeta jerked back.

"E-Excuse me?" she all but yelled.

"I'm sorry," Hair said with a smile. "I just wanted to get an idea of what I'm in for. Not terrible but not great either. We should start at once."

"But I haven't agreed to anything," Elizabeta said. "I can do my own hair and make-up, thank you."

"Not like we'll do it," Make-up said.

"When we're done with you, you'll hardly recognize yourself," Hair said.

"Well, I—"

"She would love to." Elizabeta made a startled noise. She hadn't heard Gilbert come up behind her. She scowled at him.

"Gilbert, I don't—"

"Yes, you do," he interrupted. "Just play along, Liz," he whispered in her ear before nudging her forward. "She's all yours ladies.

"Wonderful!" Make-up said.

"This is going to be so much fun!" Hair squealed.

"I'm sure," Elizabeta said dryly.

It was nearly seven when she left the Queen of Hearts Suite alone. Alfred and Gilbert had grown tired of waiting for her and had gone downstairs an hour ago. Hair and Make-Up (whose actual names were Beth and Surina) had departed only a few minutes earlier after two exhausting hours of washing, scrubbing, brushing, waxing, and applying what seemed like every bit of make-up under the sun. Still, Elizabeta had to admit that they had done a pretty good job, better than any makeover she had received before. Her hair had never felt so soft. And her make-up was neither garish nor underdone. She looked nice and, if possible, felt a little happier. She had also been surprised at how well her dress fit. How Fayola had figured out her size during the course of a twenty minute conversation she would never know.

Elizabeta was closing the door of the suite when she heard the sound of another door opening behind her. She turned to see Lovino standing in the doorway of the Tea Party Suite, fully dressed for the evening, a look of surprise on his face. Elizabeta felt her cheeks grow warm but then she remembered that she was angry with him. Without a word to him, she started walking towards the elevators. She pushed the elevator button and groaned when she saw that it was on the first floor. She kept her eyes on the elevator when she heard the door close down the hallway and didn't look at Lovino when he joined her at her side. The tension could have been cut with a knife. The elevator was on the sixth floor when he finally spoke up.

"This is stupid."

Elizabeta found herself replying, "The dinner?"

"No, you ignoring me."

"I'm not ignoring you!"

"Then why aren't you talking to me?"

"I just don't feel like talking."

"Usually you never stop talking."

"And usually you're just a jerk."

"You know what, I was actually going to apologize for earlier, but fuck it."

"You apologize? You really expect me to believe that?"

"Why is that so hard to believe?"

"Because you're—" Elizabeta suddenly found herself smiling. "Never mind. How do we always end up like this?"

Lovino raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"

"We fight, ignore each other, fight again, make-up, and then start fighting again. It's this endless cycle. Is it always going to be this way?"

"It's not my fault you like to argue," Lovino said.

"I do not—" Elizabeta stopped when she saw the tiny smile on his face. "I hate you."

"No you don't."

"Maybe. You look nice, by the way. I'm assuming the suit is courtesy of Fayola."

Lovino frowned. "Yes. This is all so predictably her. She threw my brother and me a birthday party when we turned six. She even chose us matching outfits. She planned everything down to the type of silver wear that we would be using. It was so embarrassing. She loves being in charge and needs to have everything go exactly her way. That's just how she is." He sighed but he didn't seem angry. "I hope you don't think too badly of her. She's one of the few good people I've ever known, for the most part."

"Really? I couldn't tell. If she was so good she wouldn't be making you play in that poker match." Elizabeta looked back at the elevator. "What's taking this thing so long?"

"What the hell? It's back on one."

"You mean we missed the elevator? I didn't even hear it!" Elizabeta pushed the button again. "Maybe it's broken."

It was another ten minutes before they reached the first floor. The ballroom was already filled when they walked in and waiters were distributing the first course to the tables. Elizabeta spotted Gilbert and Alfred sitting at a table near the stage.

"What took you so long?" Gilbert asked when he spotted them. "You look halfway decent though."

"Gilbert, are you blind? She looks amazing," Alfred said.

Elizabeta blushed as she sat down. "Thank you, Alfred. At least someone at this table is a gentleman." She shot Lovino a look but he was busy examining the candles on the table.

"You shouldn't encourage her like that, Al," Gilbert said. "It all goes straight to her head." He turned to Lovino. "I wasn't expecting to see you here."

"I couldn't exactly refuse the invitation. Trust me, the last thing I want to be doing is sitting here with you."

"The feeling is mutual."

"Okay children, that's enough," Elizabeta said. She grabbed a bread roll from the basket on the table, not realized until that moment that she was starving.

The waiters soon the brought the first course to their table, a delicious thick, creamy soup. While they were eating, the leftmost curtain on the stage was lifted up to reveal a grand piano. A man then walked onto the stage and began to play a pretty piece that made Elizabeta want to dance. The man played throughout the first course and into the second course, switching from the light-hearted tune to a more somber melody. After he was done, the central curtain was raised, revealing a miniature orchestra. Elizabeta couldn't help thinking of Roderich and how he would have loved to be there. She hoped he was alright and wondered if he was writing to her.

"What's on your mind?" Gilbert asked her, pulling her from her thoughts.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"You looked all mopey all of a sudden. What, or who, are you thinking about?"

Elizabeta was surprised that he had noticed. So far he'd spent the whole dinner sharing poker "tips" with Alfred and Lovino, who both seemed completely unimpressed. She smiled. Of course Gilbert would notice her worry. There was a reason he was her best friend. "It's nothing, really," she replied. Gilbert looked unconvinced. "Weren't you just saying something about counting cards?" she said, hoping to shift his attention away from her. "Isn't that cheating?"

Gilbert took the bait. "Not if you do it the right way."

"Idiot, there's no legal way to count cards," Lovino said.

"This is why I'm the gambling master and you're just a loudmouth asshole," Gilbert shot back.

This led to another argument. Elizabeta noticed the people at the surrounding tables staring at them. She slumped down in her seat and tried to make herself as small as possible. The only one who seemed to be truly enjoying themselves was Alfred who was laughing as Gilbert and Lovino traded insults. The shouting finally quieted down when the dessert was brought to their table.

"This is the most amazing ice cream I've ever tasted," Alfred said. His blue eyes seemed to sparkle. "It's like someone took the Star Wars collector's edition DVD box special and made it into ice cream."

"You know, half the stuff that comes out of your mouth makes no sense," Gilbert said.

After the dessert plates had been taken away, the lights in the ballroom were dimmed and the rightmost curtain on the stage was raised. A beautiful woman with long hair red hair stood in front of a microphone. Elizabeta guessed that this was the popular opera singer Leon had spoken of. Elizabeta didn't know much about opera, but as the woman began to sing, she could tell that this wasn't just some average performer. Even Gilbert stopped talking. The whole ballroom was silent; no one spoke, the only sound in the room being the haunting singing of the woman on the stage. Elizabeta was so transfixed by her that she didn't notice Fayola until the woman was standing next to her.

"Are you all enjoying the show?" she whispered, startling everyone at the table.

"Ahhh! A ghost!" Alfred yelled.

"Shhh!" Someone hissed.

Fayola laughed softly. "I'm sorry, did I surprise you? Circe is amazing, isn't she? Her voice is so captivating that you forget everything else. I hate to interrupt but I must borrow Lovino for a bit."

Elizabeta narrowed her eyes. "What for?"

"Just a little talk. Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll bring him back safe and sound."

"It's fine, Elizabeta." Lovino stood up from the table. "I'll be back later." He reached over and squeezed her hand. "Don't worry so much."

She gave him a small smile. "Yeah…Okay, see you later then." She watched them weave through the ballroom tables, flanked by the two men from before.

Gilbert leaned over to her. "Was that about?" he whispered.

"I only wish I knew," she said, shuddering as the singer, Circe, hit a particularly high note.

Fayola led Lovino back to her personal suite. However, this time instead of taking him to the room with the weird artwork, Fayola chose a smaller, plainer room. Unlike the rest of the suite, it had beige walls and cream colored furniture. Lovino also noticed that Fayola's bodyguards didn't follow them into the room. Even though he knew that they were only going to talk, he couldn't help but feel little uneasy when Fayola locked the door behind them.

Fayola sighed. "Finally, some privacy. Bless those two, but sometimes it's nice to just be alone." She smiled at him. "Don't stand there looking so formal. Sit down, put your feet up. But take your shoes off first." There was a carton of cigarettes on the table. Fayola picked it up and took one out. She took a gold lighter out of her pocket and lit it up. "Can I get you anything? Wine? Liquor?" she asked.

Lovino sat down on the couch and pointed at the cigarette in her hand. "I'll take one of those."

Fayola raised an eyebrow but tossed him the carton and the lighter. "Your grandfather would be furious if he was here. He never wanted you to pick up smoking. It really is a disgusting habit. I've been trying to quit for years." She collapsed onto one of the chairs. She seemed old all of a sudden. She was still a handsome woman and it was easy to forget that she was over fifty. She was fifty-five to be exact, if Lovino had his dates correct. "I suppose there are a lot of things your grandfather never wanted you to pick up," Fayola said. There was a hint of sadness in her voice.

Lovino inhaled deeply from the cigarette in his hand. "Like what?"

"No, no spoilers yet." Fayola crossed her legs and leaned back in the chair. "Look at you. You've become such a handsome man. Who would have thought? Is this really the same rude boy who wet his bed until he was eleven?"

Lovino blushed. "S-Shut up! T-That stopped when I was ten! Don't bring up embarrassing stuff like that!" He scowled. "I hope you didn't bring me up here just to reminisce about the past."

"Well, that's only half of it. I want you to tell me what really happened in Palermo; the whole story." Fayola grinned. "But, before we get to that, care to explain what happened in the ballroom?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't be coy. What was it you said? 'Don't worry so much'? And then there was that comforting touch. How sweet. What is your relationship with that girl? Are you in love with her?"

Lovino wondered if it was possible to die from embarrassment. "N-N-No way! Are you crazy? H-Her? That's fucking stupid. A-As if I could ever…no fucking way. I just didn't want her to start freaking out like she usually does. That's all it was."

Fayola laughed. "If you say so, darling. If you say so. I just hope you play poker better than you lie."

"I'm not lying!"

"Alright, alright. No need to get so angry. And don't yell so loud. Or else Jean and Marco might break down the door to make sure you're not murdering me in here."

"Well, then don't say such stupid things," Lovino snapped. His face felt like it was on fire.

"Okay, I won't talk about your…'friend' anymore. At least not right now. One more thing before we get to Palermo. You should know, whether you win or lose the poker match, I'm going to help you out. Those threats from before…I didn't mean any of them."

"I know."

Fayola raised an eyebrow. "You knew?"

"Well I hoped," Lovino admitted.

"Will you still represent me in the match?"

"Of course. I already gave you my word."

Fayola smiled. "Thank you. Your grandfather used to brag nonstop about what a gifted poker player you were. I only hope he wasn't exaggerating."

"Grandpa bragging about me? That's hard to believe."

"Believe it. Also I just want to apologize for my overall manner earlier. Working in this business tends to make you very...harsh. But enough of that. Now, let's get to the main event. I want to talk about Palermo. Go on then. Tell me everything."

The uneasy feeling from before was back. This time it was worse. "Those aren't exactly pleasant memories," Lovino said. Fayola only gave him a look that said he wasn't going anywhere until he started talking. "But fine. I guess I'll tell you. I don't know why you want to hear some stupid story. Where should I start?"

Lovino first had to explain how he met Elizabeta. He tried to ignore the knowing smile on Fayola's face and struggled to keep his face composed. As he spoke about the night of the fire, the night where everything had fallen apart, it was as if he was living it once more. Unbidden the images flashed through his mind. He saw the fire traveling up the curtains, he heard the screams as wooden beams collapsed on party guests; he saw Alessandro's face, one eye had been closed and bloody; he remembered the struggle, the gun in his hands, the sound of it going off, and then there was blood everywhere. By the time Lovino finished the story he was halfway through his second cigarette and his hands were shaking. Fayola's face was calm but there was anger in her dark eyes. She didn't say anything for a few minutes and Lovino was grateful. In fact, he would have been happy never to speak again.

Finally Fayola spoke up. "You say you killed Stephano and Alessandro but—"

"I did…I killed them," Lovino interrupted. "There's no 'but'. That's how everyone will see it anyway. They won't care that Lima was on the stairs when it collapsed. Or that Alessandro attacked me first. They're dead and it's my fault." He took another drag from the cigarette.

"Alessandro…" Fayola said the name with a look of disgust. "The only thing good about that boy was his pretty face. Your grandfather never trusted him." This caught Lovino's attention. He hadn't known this. "Roman tried to get Stephano to send him away countless times but Stephano said he couldn't disown his only son. He loved the boy…in his own way."

Lovino's hands shook even worse. "You don't…you don't think Alessandro killed my grandpa, do you?" It was a thought that had crossed his mind half a hundred times before and had kept him awake on many sleepless nights.

"I know for a fact he didn't. He was in London meeting a business partner when your grandfather went missing. I'd been keeping tabs on him for a while. Like your grandfather, I trusted him little."

Lovino frowned. "A business partner in London? I didn't know about this. What type of business?"

"Drugs, but I don't think anything came out of it. Although, I wouldn't know. I stopped having him followed shortly after that. But you know your grandfather's feelings about drugs. Even after he died, Stephano honored him by staying out of that kind of business. If Alessandro had been involved in the drug trade, it would have been almost impossible for him to hide it from his father."

Suddenly Lovino was reminded of a conversation with Elizabeta a week earlier. She had been trying to figure out the connection between Alessandro and Lavinia Crewe. At the time, Lovino had thought little of it. Alessandro had known plenty of people like Lavinia Crewe. He'd even had "friends" in the Russian crime circles. Having outside contacts was nothing uncommon, as long as they weren't from a rival group. Lovino had assumed that Lavinia was just another "friend". She gave Alessandro information when he needed it but that's as far as their relationship went. But now Lovino was beginning to wonder if Lavinia had been more than just a simple contact.

They had only met that once at Lima's party. Lovino had found her pretty and charming, but hadn't really paid much attention to her further than that. He had only gone to the party because Alessandro had more or less begged him to attend. He had spent most of the night alone at the bar. And it was at the bar where he had encountered Lavinia a second time. She had appeared out of nowhere, sliding onto his lap and placing a kiss just under his ear. "Twenty minutes," she whispered before she had walked away. He had been so shocked that he hadn't noticed the piece of paper she had put in his hand until a few seconds later. On the paper had been what he assumed was her hotel address and room number. He had thrown the piece of paper away, too embarrassed to even think of going to meet her. Anyway, Lavinia had been Alessandro's date. She had been pretty, yes, beautiful even, but not beautiful enough to ruin a friendship over.

"You look like you have a lot on your mind," Fayola said, jarring Lovino back to reality.

"What? Oh…yeah. Everything's just became a lot more complicated," he said.

"Was it because of what I said about Alessandro?"

"Yes, it's just…" Had Alessandro really been involved in the drug trade? If so, then why? Money? And how had he kept all his activities such a secret? Lovino wondered if he would ever truly know who Alessandro was. "I can't even begin to explain it. Nothing is making sense right now."

"Well, when it does, don't be afraid to come to me for help." Fayola's eyes were suddenly sad. "How long do you plan on doing this Lovino? How long do you plan to keep on running?"

Lovino frowned. "As long as I have to."

"But why run? You are Roman's grandson. Even as traitor you're still valuable. They might not forgive you, but they won't kill you."

"I doubt that. Things have changed, Fay. And even if they don't kill me I'll be a captive for the rest of my life."

"A captive who will live in luxury. And in time, who knows, maybe you will be forgiven. Whatever the case, it's better than running."

"I…I just can't."

"Is it because of that girl?"

"She saved my life, Fay. You heard the story. She helped me get out. If it wasn't for her, Alessandro would still be shoving lies down my throat, assuming he wouldn't already have killed me. I owe her." The cigarette was a stub in his hand. He dropped it into the ashtray and lit another one. "At first I thought she would be safer without me around. When people are around me bad things happen. So, I pushed her away." Remembering the sadness on Elizabeta's face was like a knife in his chest. "I said horrible things to her. I thought if everyone was so focused on finding me they would ignore her and she could just go back to her normal life. But nothing I did mattered in the end because she's just so stubborn and so…" He sighed. "I just need to make sure that she's okay."

Fayola shook her head. "And you say that you're not in love with her."

"This isn't about love!" Lovino snapped. "It's about repaying a debt. I can't stop running until I know she'll be okay. She had this stupid plan, you know. She wanted to travel around the world and meet her true love. It's like something out of a lame children's fairytale. But you know what, she deserves that happy ending. I want her to have that. It's the least I can do after fucking up her life so bad."

"You really have grown up." Fayola smiled. "When did you become so brave and selfless?"

Lovino's laugh was bitter. "The last thing I am is brave. Someone who was brave wouldn't have ended up in this mess. If I was brave, I would have told the Family right from the start about Grandpa's fuck up and then I would have told them all to fuck off."

Fayola's eyes narrowed. "What fuck up?"

"In the paperwork he left behind before he died. He accidentally named Feliciano as his successor instead of me. That's how I ended up in Palermo in the first place. I assumed you would have known all of this beforehand since you're so good at finding things out and all." Lovino was surprised by the confusion on Fayola's face.

"I knew bits and pieces but not this. So…so you think your grandfather made a mistake?"

"Obviously. Why else would he put Feliciano's name down?" Lovino frowned. "What are you getting at here?" Fayola looked to be deep in thought. Suddenly, all the confusion left her face and her eyes seemed to light up.

She smiled widely. "Your grandfather didn't make a mistake with the paperwork, Lovino. You must trust me on this. He put your brother's name down for a reason."

"What are you talking about? Why the hell would he do that?"

"I can't tell you."

Lovino's mouth fell open. "W-What do you mean you can't tell me? You can't just say something like that and not explain it!"

"This is something you have to figure out for yourself, Lovino. Roman made a lot of mistakes in his life, but writing Feliciano's name down on that piece of paper was not one of them."

"Fay, you're seriously pissing me off right now. What the fuck are you talking about?"

Fayola stood up from her chair and hurried the door. She unlocked it and leaned out into the hallway. "Jean! Marco!" The two men appeared a few seconds later. "Please escort Mr. Vargas back to the ballroom." Fayola turned back to Lovino. "You should still be able to catch the last few minutes of the show."

"I'm not leaving until you explain everything!"

Five minutes later, Lovino found himself on the floor outside Fayola's suite. He jumped to his feet and beat his fist angrily against the door. "You can't just toss me out like this, Fay! You old hag! You can't stay in there forever! One way or another I'm going to make you explain what you meant!" Lovino gave the door a hard kick before stomping away.

When Elizabeta looked over at Gilbert she was surprised to see that his eyes were shining in the candlelight. She leaned towards him and whispered, "Are you crying?"

Gilbert scowled and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "Hell no," he hissed. "The smoke from the candles are making my eyes water."

"You don't have to lie, Gilbert. Alfred's not trying to hide it." Even in the dim lighting it was clear Alfred's eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. Elizabeta watched as he blew his nose into the tablecloth.

"Gross," Gilbert said.

Elizabeta glanced at the people at the surrounding tables and saw that Alfred and Gilbert weren't the only two experiencing a lack of control of their emotions. There was hardly a dry eye in the ballroom. It seemed everyone was affected by Circe's haunting melody. Even though Elizabeta didn't understand the song, it was clear that it was one involving deep sadness. She herself had been fighting back tears for the better part of twenty minutes. Suddenly, she didn't think she could stay in the ballroom another minute.

"I'll be back," she whispered to Gilbert. He only nodded; his attention was back on Circe. Elizabeta weaved slowly through the ballroom. She passed one woman who had her hand over her mouth to muffle her sobs. Another man was crying on the shoulder of a woman Elizabeta presumed was his wife. Elizabeta had never seen so many people crying in one place. She remembered that Leon had called the show a once in a lifetime experience. She hadn't thought he meant it like this. When Elizabeta stepped into the hallway and closed the ballroom door behind her she took a deep breath.

"Was it too much for you?" asked a familiar voice. Elizabeta turned to see Lovino walking towards her. Almost immediately the sadness from before was replaced by relief.

"You're alright," she said, smiling.

Lovino gave her a quizzical look. "Is there a reason I wouldn't be?"

Elizabeta shrugged. "You know me, always worrying." She had so many questions to ask but then she remembered how he had reacted earlier and decided to keep them to herself.

Lovino glanced at the ballroom. The echoes of Circe's voice floated into the hallway. "I saw her show a few years back. I remember this song."

"Do you know what it's about? It sounds so sad."

"It's about a woman who lost the man she loved in a war. He died before she could tell him how she felt. The song tells her grief and her regret." Lovino gave her a small smile that made Elizabeta's heart skip a beat. "The message is pretty clear. Don't leave things unsaid because you never know what will happen."

"Oh...I see." Elizabeta's heart was beating so loudly she was surprised Lovino couldn't hear it. "T-That's very sad. I…I, uh, d-didn't know that." She stared at the ground and hoped her face wasn't bright red. "Thanks for explaining." What's wrong with me? Get ahold of yourself, she thought.

"You're acting weird," Lovino said.

"W-What are you talking about?" Elizabeta squeaked.

"You haven't asked me about my talk with Fay. Usually that would be the first thing out of your mouth."

Elizabeta frowned. "Weren't you the one who said I should stop pushing my way into your life?"

"Yeah, well I…you see…don't…don't always take everything I say so seriously, okay? Especially when I'm angry." Lovino's cheeks were pink. "I-I don't mind if you ask some questions. Just not too many."

"Really? Okay then, tell me! Did she ask you for another favor? Don't tell me she threatened you again."

"No, nothing like that. I'll tell you everything, but first let's go somewhere a little more private. The concert will be over soon and this area will be packed. There shouldn't be too many people in the Water Gardens." Elizabeta had no idea what the water gardens were but she followed him nonetheless.

The Water Gardens turned out to be a large outdoor enclosure that was filled with beautifully carved water fountains. There were only a small handful of people in the garden so it was easy to find a quiet spot in the corner on a bench next to a fountain featuring a young girl crying on a giant mushroom. Her hands covered her face and water tricked through the spaces between her fingers. Elizabeta listened patiently as Lovino told her about his talk with Fayola. When he was done, she felt as if someone had dumped a bucket of cold water on her head.

"So there's a chance that Alessandro was part of the same drug organization as Lavinia," she mused aloud.

"It doesn't make any sense," Lovino said. "At first I thought maybe he was in it for the money, but money was never something Sandro cared too much about. I mean, it was important to him the way it is important to everyone else, but not so much that he would risk being kicked out of the Family. But there's a chance he wasn't involved at all. At least Fay didn't think anything came out of his 'business meeting' in London."

"But that was almost five years ago. You said he was with Lavinia at the party three years ago."

"That's doesn't mean he was involved in the drug organization. Maybe she was just a contact."

"Maybe, but maybe not. I think I should call Arthur."

"Who?"

"He's the detective that was involved in the case I mentioned. The one with Lavinia and Moran."

Lovino narrowed his eyes. "A detective?" he asked suspiciously.

"Don't worry; he's a good guy…sometimes. But he's trustworthy. The last time we spoke he said he would be keeping tabs on Lavinia. Maybe he can get in contact with her. She could help answer some of our questions."

"Why would we need her to do that? How many times do I have to say it? Alessandro is dead. Even if he was part of this drug organization, it doesn't matter anymore."

But Elizabeta did think it mattered. She had learned a lot in the past few weeks about Lavinia and Alessandro. And then there was the cryptic message and this Big Bad Wolf who was supposedly after her. They were like puzzle pieces that were fitting together nice enough but the final picture was still a mystery. Suddenly she remembered the man at the airport in London. She felt a shiver run down her back as she remembered those eyes. They had been eyes full of hatred. He might not have even been real, she thought. It could have been just a hallucination. Especially considering how tired I was and everything that had just happened. Yet, these thoughts brought her no comfort. Nothing was what it seemed, that was all she knew for certain.

"I just think it would be a good idea," she said. "Anyway, I have a favor to ask of Arthur. It's too late to call him now but I'll do it first thing tomorrow."

"Well, whatever you have to talk about with wonderful Detective Arthur just make sure you leave me out of it." Was that jealously in his voice or was Elizabeta just hearing what she wanted to hear? Lovino stood up. "We should probably head back to the rooms. I'm sure those two idiots are looking for us."

"So that's all you talked about with Fayola?" Elizabeta asked as they walked towards the doors leading back inside the hotel. "What happened in Palermo, and Alessandro's connection to Lavinia?"

"Yeah, that's it." Elizabeta saw something flicker across Lovino's face but it was gone so fast she wondered if she had imagined it. "We talked a little about the past too, but nothing serious. Fay gets nostalgic a lot." He's lying, Elizabeta thought. She didn't know how she knew, but she was sure that there was something Lovino wasn't telling her. While she couldn't deny that this hurt, she told herself that he wasn't obligated to tell her everything about his life. Everyone was entitled to their own secrets. "Oh, and she said that the threats she made before, about what she would do if I didn't play in the poker match or if I lost, she said she didn't mean those, although I knew that from the start."

This distracted Elizabeta from the pain she was feeling. "Really? Then you don't have to represent her! We can leave!"

"No, I'm still going to play in the match. And I'm going to win."

"What? But why?"

"Because I made Fay a promise. She drives me crazy sometimes, but I guess she's kind of like family. Like a nagging mom, yeah that's her."

"I don't like this at all but I can tell by your face that you're not going to change your mind no matter what I say." Elizabeta sighed. "Well, don't tell this to Gilbert or Alfred. Especially Gilbert."

"Trust me, my lips are sealed."

... ... ...

The next morning, while Alfred and Gilbert were lounging by the pool and Lovino was hiding in his room again, Elizabeta called the emergency cellphone number Arthur had given her the last time they'd seen each other in London.

"Emergency's only," he had said as he wrote the number down on a piece of paper. "I'm sure I don't have to explain to you what an emergency is. This number isn't for when you're bored or lonely and want to talk. It's for life or death situations, when you've tried every other option and you don't know what to do next. If you call me for anything less than that, I promise I will hang up on you."

While her situation wasn't exactly life and death, Elizabeta still counted it as an emergency. She had questions and only Lavinia could answer them. She was only half surprised when she called the number and was informed that it was no longer in service. A private emergency line to Arthur was too good to be true. Elizabeta had no other choice but to go the official route. She spent the next hour on hold with Scotland Yard as her call was transferred. While she waited, she wandered around the suite, discovering a wine cabinet and a door she had originally thought was a closet but actually revealed a foldup bed. At least I won't have to sleep on the couch anymore, she thought. Finally, she was informed that her call was being transferred to the desk of Chief Inspector Kirkland.

"Hello?" said an annoyed, unfamiliar voice.

Elizabeta frowned. "Hello, name is Elizabeta Hédeváry. Who is this? I was trying to reach Arth—Chief Inspector Kirkland."

"This is Wang Yao, his secretary. The Chief Inspector is out of town."

Elizabeta felt her heart sink. "Oh, do you know when he'll be back?"

"No."

"Well, this is somewhat of an emergency. Do you have another number I could reach him at?" She heard a noise that sounded like a snort from the other end.

"I wish. That bastard never tells me anything. He just took off, couldn't even leave a note. And of course he doesn't think to call and check up on everything or even ask how I'm dealing with things. I mean how hard is it to call and ask, 'Hey Yao, how's work? I hope it's not too bad. I know I just left without saying anything, leaving you to deal with my superiors and their unending questions, oh, and all the paperwork pertaining to the drug smuggling case which is falling apart as we speak. But yeah, just making sure you're all right. Hang in there.'" The man sighed and Elizabeta had a feeling he had forgotten that she was on the other end of the line. "Damn it, Kirkland. Of all the people I had to be assigned to, why did it have to be you?"

"Um…yes," Elizabeta said, not sure how else to reply.

"Oh, damn. I forgot that you were still there. Did you say your name was Hédeváry? Like from the Rosebury case?"

Elizabeta suppressed a groan. "Yes, Elizabeta Hédeváry, that's me."

"Hmm, alright, if that bastard ever decides to check in, I'll let him know that you called. Although I wouldn't get your hopes up."

"Thank—" The man hung up. "—you." Elizabeta sighed and set her phone down. "That went well," she muttered. So Arthur was gone and no one seemed to know where. Again, she wasn't too surprised. This only furthered her suspicion that something big was happening, or going to happen. It was possible that Arthur was working on another case, but she had her doubts, especially considering what his secretary had about the drug smuggling case unraveling. That was actually more shocking to her than Arthur's disappearance. What could have gone wrong with the case? Had something happened with the list of names Lavinia had provided? Elizabeta shook her head and stood up from the couch. There was no use thinking about any of that until Arthur called her back. If he called her back. At that moment there was really nothing she could do except take the advice Gilbert had given her yesterday. She left her phone on the couch and went to go find her swimsuit.

Lovino stared up at the ceiling of the room. His hands found the half empty bottle of wine on the bedside table. He brought the bottle to his mouth and took a long drink. He set the bottle clumsily back on the table, almost knocking it over in the process. On the floor next to the bed were two more bottles of wine, although he had finished them hours ago. He had been drinking for the better part of the night, sleeping for only about an hour before his nightmares had jolted him, screaming, awake. But his nightmares were only one reason for his sleeplessness.

Since his talk with Fayola the night before, he had been going over in his mind what she had said about his grandfather. He so wanted to believe that she had been lying but could find no reason for why she would lie. She had never lied to him before. Briefly, he had entertained the idea that Fayola had closer ties with the Family than she let on. Could she perhaps have given him the false information yesterday in order to confuse him and distract him from his objectives? But that thought had made him feel so guilty he had dismissed it almost as soon as it came to his mind.

But, if Fayola had been telling the truth, then the most logical conclusion would be that Lovino's grandfather had purposely intended for him to inherit his role in the Family. His grandfather would have known, must have known that once Lovino saw Feliciano's name on the papers that he would devise some way to take his brother's place. After all, he'd been bailing Feliciano out of trouble his whole life. Why would that time have been any different? The thought that his grandfather had knowingly condemned him to the life he had always promised to keep him and his brother away from had him almost choking on his anger.

Lovino remembered when he had first received the news that his grandfather was missing, no, not missing, dead. People just didn't go missing in his grandfather's line of work. They were killed and their bodies were never found. At first Lovino had thought it was some sick joke. Roman Vargas couldn't be dead. Men like that didn't die, not like that. Unlike his brother who had cried openly for weeks, Lovino had kept his grief to himself. The tears only came at night when he was sure no one was around. This grief had turned to rage when he had discovered what he had thought was a mistake in the paperwork his grandfather had left behind. For a long time afterwards, he had blamed Roman for all his misfortunes, using his anger to keep the sadness away. However, eventually, the anger had lessened and there were times that Lovino found himself almost forgiving his grandfather for his error. But now…

He sat up and grabbed the neck of the wine bottle. He pulled his arm back and tossed the bottle at the wall. It made a satisfying sound as it smashed against the wall, leaving behind a spray of red wine that looked like blood. Lovino let himself fall back down on the bed. "You bastard," he said through clenched teeth. "You fucking bastard. If you're not dead, if you're still out there somewhere fucking around, you better stay out of sight because if I find you I'll kill you myself. How could you do this to me? You promised. You fucking promised. Four years. I was there for four years. Do you know what I went through?" The first year had been the worst. Every day had been a waking nightmare. The lies he'd had to tell knowing that one slip up could lead to his death, having to learn who he could and couldn't trust, the loneliness…He often wondered how he had survived. Was it truly possible that his grandfather was the reason for all that he had suffered? Lovino fully intended to find out, even if it meant going back to Palermo. Even if it killed him.

A/N: So next chapter will be the poker match and all that loveliness. More Gilbert and Alfred next chapter too. I feel like I really sidelined them in this part. Also more Arthur and Lavinia (you know, of all my OCs in this fic I've grown most attached to her). Those two will be getting up to some mischief in Paris, which means some we'll be seeing some old familiar faces :) Crossing my fingers it doesn't take another four months for me to update! Thank you all for your patience.

-dancer