[Mafia Verse] Blood calls blood

Hunter put the picture back on his desk. Everyday, he'd pick it up, look at it, polish it, and put it back on the exact same place, just next to his gun.
In ten years, his "empire" had grown. He controlled most of the city: most of the drug dealers answered to him, and he owned the casinos. He was powerful enough, having funded many a politicians for their campaigns, that the police wouldn't touch him, no matter what he did. Lawyers, cops, politicians... He didn't need to control all of them of course, but just a few was enough.
He was rich. More than rich. He could have people killed at will. Hunter chuckled. As if any of that mattered. All that was on his mind, all he wanted, was revenge.

Ten years. It'd been ten years since his wife died. No, was killed. He couldn't forget that. He couldn't allow himself to forget. She was killed at the hands of Phil Brooks, a little shit who didn't even deserve to breath the same air as Steph did. Steph, who wasn't breathing anymore.

Hunter chuckled again, the sound bordering on hysterical. He sobered up. He couldn't afford to lose it, not yet. He had work to do. One man to kill. He was willing to sacrifice his whole empire to see Phil Brooks' head on a platter.

He looked at his wife's beautiful smile again. Soon, Steph. Soon.

John sighed, sitting on the couch next to Nolee. This wasn't the life he would have chosen for himself, but it was the only one he got, so he dealt. He sunk down in his seat, crossing his legs as he filed his nails with a nail filer, waiting for Hunter to call him. That was his only entertainment. Hunter fucking him. He glanced at the door then back at Nolee. "What the hell does he do in there all day?" He grumbled to Nolee, flipping his hair.

Nolee had grown up her entire life under the Helmlsy household. She had never known her father but she had been told about him. Hunter, the man who had helped raise her and the man who she would do anything for because he had looked after her like one of his own as long as she followed his rules (no cops, no drugs, and in every night after she had got done working when she was older and prettier). He never made it clear but she knew that she hadn't been born a Helmsly. After tonight's job with a gross older man named Micheal Cole, she had been reassured of that when he uttered five simple word, "You look like your father."

"I dunno," Nolee said as she fidgeted with the stack of bills in her hand. Bravely, she knocked on the door and opened it to walk in, not caring what Hunter said. "Hello Mr. Helmsly, I brought my money in. I was hoping to get a night off?" she paused as she waited for him to count it but when she realized it was to long she spoke again.

"Did you know my father?"

Hunter's first instinct when someone knocked and entered his office was to put his hand on the loaded gun, just in case. He relaxed ever so slightly when he saw that it was his little protégée.
Hunter scoffed internally. His "protégée". The daughter of a crooked cop who thought he'd be smart enough to double cross him and ended up dead. He had even been able to pin the blame on one of Brooks' guys.
He'd taken the girl in. She had been so young at the time. A toddler, looking at him with big bright eyes. He'd wondered at the time if his children with Steph would look at him like that, so full of innocence and need to be loved. He'd never had the chance to find out. Because she was dead... dead dead dead de-

Hunter was jarred from his musing by Nolee's question and narrowed his eyes.

"Not personally. What makes you ask this, why now?"

Nolee looked at him, biting her lower lip nervously, "Well...you set me up with that job for that Cole guy. And...and when we were done he...he told me that I looked like my father." She looked away, "I was wondering if you knew who he was..." She noticed his hand on the gun when she entered but didn't say anything, knowing that Hunter would never hurt her.

Hunter sighed. So the baby girl was finally growing up.

"I knew who he was. He worked for me. Your father was not... an honorable man." Hunter chuckled. "Not that any of us are, but Jerry - that was his name by the way - was a crooked cop. His death was a accident... he was caught in the crossfire during a confrontation between my boys and Brooks'," Hunter lied smoothly.

He paused, cursing himself for not taking care of Cole sooner. He thought he'd made every loose ends disappear, but apparently that wasn't the case. He hated loose ends.

"Is that all?" he said, pocketing the money Nolee brought him.

Nolee nodded, feeling small. A crooked cop? She had pictured her father more as a hero growing up. Not being someone who was evil. "Hunter..." she looked away, "Hunter I don't wanna work any more okay? I'll do whatever you want but...but I'm sick of guys like Cole. You don't know how mean they are!"

She was truthful. A lot of the men she was with weren't rough but they were mean and snobbish. She had dreamt alot about finding a perfect man, the kind of man she could marry, but she knew that if she kept this up she was going to wind up as a toy for someone who didn't care.

Hunter stilled. He looked up, cold eyes sizing Nolee up.

"Very well. How do you plan to get money then?"

In his calm words, there was the underlying threat that he could very well throw the girl out if she couldn't pay, since he was providing her with a place to live, like he did nearly all of his employees.

Nolee frowned, "I...I haven't thought of that much yet. I...I kinda thought that since you were training me to take over after you died..."

She looked down at her feet. She didn't know how to say that she thought she deserved to live there for free.