The man owed money, a very large sum. That's all she knew as to the reason she was stalking this fat noble. His skin was an unhealthy pallor, falling in disgusting rolls, while his clothes were outlandish colors that clashed and screamed for attention. Perhaps not the right attention, no? It was early in the evening but dark enough for the torches to be lit along the streets and cast large shadows, as well as dark enough for the underbelly of Roma to begin to surface. The street Fiora walked was busy with activity, stern business men on their way home from work, women doing their last minute shopping, courtesans on every corner, and at least one drunken man down each alley. All of this was what she needed: distraction. Walking with a slight sway, she saw the eyes of even the chastest of men looking in her direction. Passing a hand over her shoulder, she swept all her hair to one side, exposing her neck. The noble was now on his way to one of the courtesans on the corner, a dirty blonde walking gingerly but smiling all the same. Seems she's already had business. Fiora sauntered over to the other side of the street, walking up to a man leaning against the building, his eyes focused on everything but her face.

"Salute, sailor," she purred, her thigh brushed against his.

"Salute," he responded, a hand moving to her waist.

"You look like you've had a hard day's work?" Fiora said, fiddling with the stained collar of the man's shirt.

From the corner of her eye, she saw the noble being lead by the hand into the dark alley just off of the corner. Time to move.

"I have. I'm in need of a bit of respite," he said, his voice husky, his other hand on her waist.

"Hmmm, too bad I'm booked, caro."

Fiora ran a finger across his lips before she slid out of his meaty hands and crossed the street, slipping into the dark alley after the noble.

It wasn't hard to find them. The noble sounded like a hungry pig and the courtesan wasn't much better. Walking up to the undulating couple, Fiora grabbed the noble by the collar and quite literally disengaged him from the woman. He hit the pavement hard and scrambled to hide his swollen appendage.

"Leave," Fiora ordered to the courtesan, her voice holding none of the seductive tone it had before.

The woman stood shocked for a moment but then scrambled down the alley and disappeared around the corner.

"W-w-who are you? What-what do you want?" the noble cried, crawling away from Fiora as she slowly advanced.

"You've been a naughty boy, signore. Whatever will the Order do with you?" she taunted, her saunter returning as she removed her fan from its case, flicking it open and fanning herself slowly.

The noble's eyes, if possible, widen more and his grip on his still undone pants tightened. Fiora smirked.

"Wait! Give me a couple more days. I can get the money I owe!"

"And watch you waste it away, excited over trash? I'm afraid I can't do that, signore."

She pounced. In one fluid movement, she leaped forward and struck the noble's throat, severing to the bone. The noble fell back into a puddle of thick, red blood. He didn't even have time to cry in fear.

"I've come to collect," Fiora whispered in the dead man's ear, wiping her fan on the noble's tunic before straightening and returning it to its sheath.

Just another day in the underworld of Roma.

Fiora made her way to the barbershop, swaying with the crowd. It was now late in the night and the moon was high. Entering the shop, she dropped the courtesan attitude and studied the vacant shop.

"Baltasar!"

Nothing. Fiora sighed and walked further into the shop.

"Baltasar!"

A man dressed as a barber suddenly appeared from the back of the shop, his beady eyes filled with annoyance and expectance.

"Is the deed done?" Baltasar questioned.

"The pig is dead," Fiora replied, falling into a chair and propping her feet on the nearby table.

"Cesare will be pleased then. The noble asked for more than he could pay for."

Fiora scoffed at the mention of Cesare," What news of the assassins?"

"They've been making more moves and becoming more bold," Baltasar said, sitting in the chair opposite her. "They say the Maestro has arrived."

Fiora raised an eyebrow. She had heard of this Maestro, Cesare had spoken of him before. What was his name? Ah, Ezio Auditore. A handsome name.

"Cesare wants us to continue our study of the assassin's, as well as find the Maestro."

Fiora hummed," Cesare's feeling threatened I see. This Maestro must be quite a man."

"A man that will soon be face down in a pool of his own blood."

Eyeing Baltasar warily, she doubted that they could ever really take down this Auditore. The stories that she'd heard of Auditore and the assassins in Venezia and Firenzia spoke of their undeniable success and their annoying habit of staying alive.

"Well, if we're done here," she started, standing and walking towards the door," I'll take my leave."

"Cesare has a new assignment for you tomorrow," Baltasar called after her.

"Surprise, surprise," she muttered as she exited the shop, plastering the courtesan back onto her countenance.

Fiora was several streets down from her poor excuse of a home when she heard the screams from a nearby alley. A conflict began in her, she was only a few streets from home and she was ready to collapse onto her coach. But she had a soft spot for the weak, Cesare always mocked her for it. Running a hand through her hair, she sighed and looked toward the stars. Damn. Taking off toward the sound of the screams, she found the alley and saw a man beating a woman. The man's friends stood by and laughed, giving him advice as to where to inflict more pain. Silently, Fiora sprinted up behind the man and rolled off his back, forcing him to bend over and release the woman. Landing on her knees in front of him, she lashed at his throat, the force of the swing sending the, now dead, man on his back. Blood splattered the walls and few drops found its way onto Fiora's face. The woman cried in fear as she looked into Fiora's eyes and ran. Smart girl. Fiora swung around to face the man's companions but found none, save their bodies scattered on the pavement and white hooded man bending over one of them. Senses screaming of danger, Fiora tried not to respond too violently or fearfully to the man in white as he straightened and turned towards her.

"Buona Sera, signora."

Assassino.