HMD - Revenge is a dish best served bloody

[Romanov]

23 years ago. London

The room was minimalist. The latest style. Black and chrome. All except for the large wooden desk that stood as a testament to the old times. Honour. Respect. Birthright.

Behind the desk the aspiring queen of the East End underworld was finalising plans over the telephone. White Lily. The white designer dress she was wearing clung to her voluptuous curves. Her mahogany hair tied up to reveal her elegant freckle dusted shoulders.

“You’ll be rewarded for your efforts, Tommy,” she said. “The old bastards been sitting pretty too long. It’s time to take what’s rightfully mine.”

She hung up.

The man sitting on the black leather sofa stood up. Alexander Romanov; his aura of power and confidence seemingly undiminished by his exile from the League.

”It seems as if you won’t have long to wait to regain your father’s empire, Lily,” he said. “I’m pleased.”

She smiled and she walked across the room like a prowling tigress. “You talk as if you won’t be here to see it, Alex.”

“With regret, I won’t,” he said as he took her hand and kissed it. “There are those among my former associates for whom my life is too tempting a prize. It’s a fight that, if it is to be fought, will be on my terms.”

He released her hand. “Besides, I have business overseas that I have neglected too long.

She laughed. “You’re joking. I thought you were going to be at my side when I fulfilled my destiny. I couldn’t have got this far without your counsel and…”

He bowed his head slightly. “This is your war, Lily. And your victory. Your plans are sound, your alliances strong.”

He walked over the lift doors that opened into the room. “You don’t need me,” he added as the doors opened.

“Alex, stay with me. I love you and…I’m going to have your child.”

He looked at her as the lift doors closed. For a second instead seeing the woman to whom he had given his heart more than seventy years before.

“I know.”

Now. St Martial

Lily Pink stood on the sidewalk on the opposite side of the Golden Clam restaurant. She watched as limos and SUVs dropped off and picked up wiseguys in suits and leisurewear. It was the kind of place where as a kid she’d get a pizza and some pop while her mum laid down the law to guys with broken noses and prison yard stares. Damn, she hated thinking about stuff like that. About her.

Lily had made an effort. She was wearing a pinstripe waistcoat, with her arms bare, and matching fitted trousers. Black high heels, a fat pink tie and a black trilby with a pink ribbon completed her business attire.

She was nervous and eager to make a good impression. Not with the mooks in the Clam but with Jasmine who was due to meet her. The one person who had shown faith in her beyond her ability to bash people’s heads in with a wrench. She wanted to be a better person when Jasmine was around. She wanted to be like…nah, she wasn’t going down that road.

[Dante]

The black limosuine slid around the corner with barely a whisper from its engine. Pulling up outside of the restaurant, the chauffeur stepped out to open the door and assist Jasmine as she stepped out. Jasmine was in a midnight blue dress that although conservative, was made adventurous by its plunging neckline. She wore her fur lined coat over the top and carried a matching handbag. She dismissed the driver who would go on his way without even knowing that he’d stopped to pick her up or put her down. It had been a simple charm and had been good practice for her to set her mood for the meeting.

“Ah Miss Lily,” she smiled, “I’m glad you could make it. I have a number of people who are quite falling over themselves to meet the latest gourmet artist on the circuit. And a most devastating attire too, I am sure they will be delighted.”

[Romanov]

23 years ago. London.

White Lily’s left had was pressed tight against the weeping gunshot wound in her abdomen. Her right hand gripped tighter around the pearl handle of her Colt Anaconda.

The large man behind her on the staircase put his meaty hand on her arm. “Get yerself to ‘ospital, Lil,” he said gruffly. “You’ve won the day. Me and the boys can take fings from ‘ere.”

She shook her head. Ignoring the deep crimson wetness blighting her white dress. “I want to look in his eyes. I want to see his face when he realises I’ve taken everything away from him.

“Everything my old man built.”

“Awright, Lil,” said the big man. “We’re wiv you.”

Moments later and Lily, backed by her lieutenants, was facing a withered man in a wheelchair who looked older than his years. He sucked life from a clear plastic mask connected to a dull grey oxygen tank at his side.

“Surprised to see me, Uncle Alfie, you old fuck?” asked Lily.

The man pulled the mask from his face. “A pleasant surprise as always. I always have time for my special girl.”

There eyes met for a moment. The unspoken secret.

She raised the gun and pointed it at his head.

The man’s thin lips curled into a crooked, yellow tooth grin. “Now, now, Lily,” he said. “You’re not going to shoot your old uncle are you?”

Lily lowered the gun. “No,” she said as she squeezed the trigger and fired at the oxygen tank.

More moments later and charred masonry was steadily crumbling and falling through the jagged crater in the floor of the room. White ash fell like snow from the ceiling and the smell of burnt bacon hung in the air.

Lily supported herself on the large man as he led her down the stairs.

“Give us a little warning if you’re gonna pull that shit, you mad mare,” he said affectionately as he escorted her to a waiting Mercedes before instructing the driver to take her to the hospital.

Now. St Martial.

“Wow, you look amazing,” said Lily as she respectfully looked Jasmine up and down. “Like a proper lady.”

“I’ve been watching the place for a while,” she continued. “Looks like a fancy joint. I practiced some of the things I wanted to say but maybe you should do the talking.”

She quickened her pace so she could get to the door first and hold it open for Jasmine. “So, anyfink I should know before we go in?"

[Dante]

“Thank you my dear,” replied Jasmine as she approached the door. “I will introduce you to Mr Kurov, the owner of this establishment and inform him of your product. He will buy it, I am sure. All that we will need to do is decide a price. All I would advise for now is that we do not mention the source of the product. To do so would jeopardise our trade agreement.”

Jasmine entered the restaurant and surveyed the place. It was more downbeat than she was used to but sparsely populated with a lunchtime crowd, it seemed pleasant enough. A balding man in a black suit spotted her entrance and hurried over to greet them.

“Miss Jasmine, such a pleasure,” he said, his arms broad. Jasmine accepted the embrace and performed the lightest of air kisses.

“Jonas, it has been too long,” she replied.

“That is has been but you do not call, you do not dine with me…” he feigned mock disappointment.

“A busy lifestyle my friend,” she replied. “Doubly so due to this young lady.” Jasmine stood to one side to present Lily. “This is Miss Lily, purveyor of fine foods and a revelation in her discovery of new taste sensations.”

“Enchante,” said Mr Kurov in a mock French accent.

[Romanov]

23 years ago. London.

She lay in her hospital bed. The trauma and bandages hidden beneath pristine white sheets. The morning light shone through the blinds creating strips of brightness on white tiles and linen of her private.

The doctor had been talking for a few moments the way doctors do. Not really telling her what she wanted to hear.

“Listen, Doc,” said White Lily. “You don’t have to sugar coat it, I’m a big girl. Is my baby going to be ok?”

The doctor cleared his throat. “The chances are good. You lost a lot of blood but the baby is strong…a little fighter as they say.”

She placed her hands on the swell of her belly. “Course she is. She’s a Fraser. We breed our women strong.”

The doctor cleared his throat again. “There is something else.”

“Spit it out then.”

“Your injury was…it’s unlikely that you’ll be able to have more children…”

Lily thought for a moment then smiled. “Don’t worry about me, Doc. I’m going to live my life for my girl now. She’s going to have everything I never had. Just me and her against the world.”

Now. St Martial.

“Same,” said Lily in reply to Kurov and she hesitantly tried to perform an air kiss as Jasmine had. She recoiled as her lips clumsily pressed against his cheek leaving a pink lipstick smudge. “Sorry…that ‘ow we do it in London.”

She looked around the restaurant. She saw a group of men sitting in one of the booths against the far wall. She had a feeling of déjà vu but couldn’t put her finger on why.

She smiled at Jasmine before looking back at their host. “So is there anything you want to know or are you going to place an order now?”

[Dante]

Kurov laughed, a high pitched whiny laugh that set the teeth on edge.

“Do not worry my dear, I prefer those kind!” he grinned. “As for an order, Lady Jasmine has already provided a sample of your work and I have to say, we are most impressed. A veritable taste sensation indeed, one which we would love to stock. But I simply must know, where are you finding such delightful resources on these sparse islands?”

[Romanov]

Six years ago. London.

“I don’t understand you Lillian,” shouted White Lily after her teenage delinquent daughter dressed in pink and black stripes, torn lace, leather and studs. “I spent my life dragging myself and our family out of the gutter and you seem to want nothing more than to drag yourself back in.”

She paced across the tiled floor of the Mediterranean style kitchen of their swanky town house. “I didn’t want this for you. I gave you every opportunity, got you all the best schools but you’re not there more than a month before getting expelled.”

“Well maybe if you weren’t the kind o’mum who got ‘er tubes shot up when she was carrying me you could’ve ‘ad a better daughter,” said the girl who went by the name of Lily Pink.

White Lily paused, her daughter’s words hurting like bullets. “Listen to me, young lady. I know you’re angry but please do me this one thing. Stop hanging around with that gang of delinquents. They’re messed up with drugs and…”

“Yeah!” barked Lily Pink. “Drugs your men sell ‘em. Drugs that bought you that fucking aga. I mean, don’t you know that everyone’s got a microwave these days?

“Besides, they understand me. They’re scum like me.”

White Lily’s cheeks flushed. “Listen to me, girl. I forbid it, you hear me.”

Lily Pink gave her the black nail-varnished finger and stormed out.

Now. St Martial

Lily didn’t like the guy’s tone but she was used to making nice with men regardless of her feelings towards them.

“I used to live by the marshes in ‘ackney,” she replied. “We used to like forage for mushrooms and truffles…and like catch rabbits and pigeons…and sell them to the restaurants…all the famous British Chefs like Gordon Ramsey and um…Captain Birdseye used to buy ‘em.

“When I came ‘ere I started doing the same. There’s lots of good stuff growing around ‘ere but…but obviously I can’t say where or every Tom, Dick and ‘arry would be nicking it.”

She paused wondering how to build on the lie. “But obviously we’re finking bigger now so Jasmine ‘elped me set up like greenhouses and shit. It’s still the same quality as the wild stuff but…um…there’s more.”

She looked at Kurov. “That ok?”

[Dante]

Jasmine remained silent, as if she was concentrating on something. Lily expertly bluffed her way out of the difficult question so she left well alone, letting the young lady talk.

“Of course, a good chef never reveals their sources,” replied Kurov. “We would be delighted to stock your produce. Why Anton, my head chef was lamenting the other day that everyone in the area seemed to be creating the same meals as us. He will be most excited to know that he will soon have some new produce to work on. Did you want to talk about price? I had already discussed a reasonable rate with Miss Jasmine but I am always happy to negotiate.”

His eyes flicked to Jasmine for a second, a small look of panic in them.

[Romanov]

Lily suddenly looked like she was about to explode. Her eyes moistened and she bit her lip. A memory entered her brain and she found it hard to focus on anything else even breathing.

She remained calm enough to swipe a steak knife from a nearby table without Kurov seeing, holding the handle in her hand and concealing the blade behind her arm.

“I need to use the ladies,” she said. “It’s over there, yeah?”

She walked away from Jasmine and walked towards the group of men. One man in particular who had jogged her memory. He was powerfully built with a pin-striped suit and wide mouth and a broad, furrowed forehead.

[Dante]

Both Jasmine and Kurov looked surprised but accommodating of Lily’s sudden change of demeanour.

“Yes, yes, just close the kitchen door,” muttered Kurov before turning to Jasmine. “She is somewhat… unique?” he continued, searching for the right term.

“She is most certainly that,” replied Jasmine. “but genius comes in many forms. Now shall we talk about your order?”

[Romanov]

As Lily walked closer to the men, one of them caught the determined darkness in her eyes. He stepped in her path and opened his mouth to question her but got a steak knife thrust into his thigh for his trouble.

She yanked the knife out, feeling hot blood pump onto her arm. She didn’t hear the noise and commotion as she lunged forward towards the man in the pinstripe suit.

[Dante]

As soon as she heard the yelp of pain, Jasmine waved her hand in front of Kurov's face and his head dropped as he fell into a deep slumber. A number of heavy set men about the place turned in the direction of the commotion, a threatening manner to them.

"You starting something luv?" asked one, clearly intent to do so.

Jasmine didn't move from the spot, she watched Lily, ready to act if the situation called for it.

[Romanov]

“You’re the bastard that killed my mum!” accused Lily as she swiped the knife in a jolting arc towards the man in the pinstriped suit’s face.

But even before she moved his skin was turning grey and hard. His clenched fist was like a rock as it swung at the pink-haired girl; destined to land at the same time as her knife.

[Dante]

The man next to the target of Lily's rage had been enjoying a pleasant meal with friends when the strange girl had wandered over. He'd seen the look of rage on her face and was going to enjoy watching his friend teach her a lesson.

That was until he was suddenly consumed with anger towards his friend and was filled with the overwhelming urge to smack him in the face with one of the empty dinner plates. Which he did. Hard.

Meanwhile the fellows who had been on their way over to stop Lily were halted in their tracks when the floor disappeared in front of them. Or at least, so it appeared to them. Jasmine stood by the slumbering Kurov, watching events. Clearly Lily needed some one on one time with this gentleman. For now, at least.

[Romanov]

Dust instead of blood was released as Lily’s knife struck the man’s rapidly solidifying cheek.

She didn’t have much time to avoid his punch, just moving enough to stop the blow being instantly fatal. The force of the blow, however, knocked her across the restaurant floor and through the plate glass window onto the street outside.