Eris remained deep in thought, even as the cars drew closer to their destination. Her heart was racing, but not out of fearâ€¦ Did it have to do with the man that appeared before her? She had no doubts about that, yet she couldnâ€™t understand why. An explanation eventually revealed itself: Love. The woman mentally pushed it away, letting out an audible laugh. â€œLoveâ€¦â€ she thought of it almost always as something laughable. â€œThe last time someone loved meâ€¦â€ The smile was wiped clean from her face. â€œI thoughtâ€¦. He cared.â€ She shook her head, shaking the horrid memories away as the Buick slowed to a stop.<br/>The driver opened the door, and Eris stepped out, cool as ice. Her driver, however, and several others were not so calm. Her boss, a balding man in his late 40â€™s by the name of Victor Francelli, and still one of the biggest Italian crime bosses in history, stepped out of the first Buick, looking at the bloody scene with a mix of disgust and horror.<br/>Eris had in fact been a decoy, just in case any assassins wanted to take him out. Ironically one did, but fell for the subtle game of Owan To Tama, the game known in America as â€œthe olâ€™ cups and ball routineâ€.Â<br/>Eris looked at the mangled bodies littered around. â€œJust likeâ€¦â€Â  Memories flooded back to her: she was tied to a chair, bleeding from the cuts her captors had given her, begging into a cell phone, pleading to her father so that he would pay the ransom so she could come home. â€œI have no daughter.â€ The betrayal of those words echoed in her memory.<br/>The gang members started shooting at the fleeing Jason, and Eris raised a hand to cease firing- they obeyed, looking at her in confusion, but unwilling to disobey her. Her boss, however, was not as kind. â€œDonâ€™t stop firing you idiots!â€ He roared. â€œThat man isnâ€™t of our concern at the moment-â€œcountered Eris. As she spoke, a single red beam of light shone in a<br/>pinpoint on her forehead. She was quick to react, taking a step to the side, the armor-piercing bullet missing her by inches, and traveling into one of the driverâ€™s lower torso. â€œGet that sniper!â€ Victor yelled, scrambling over the injured driver, into another Buick, and speeding off, As soon as the black vehicle was around the wharf, Eris gave an additional order. â€œBring him back alive.â€ One of the bolder thugs questioned her, â€œWhy?â€<br/>â€œWe need to know who sent them.â€<br/>Minutes later, the prisoner looked slightly nervous as he was pinned by two heavy gang members to a metal container. â€œAll yours, Discordia.â€ One of them murmured as they stepped away from the bound prisoner. â€œDiscordia?!â€ The captured man snorted. â€œYou send a girl named Discordia to do a manâ€™s job?!â€ he said incredulously. His screech echoed through the harbor as Eris rammed a 3-inch heel into the manâ€™s thigh, puncturing his leg down to the bone. â€œHold his head still,â€ she murmured as she pulled a switchblade from one of the men holding his head against the cold steel. By now, both the prisoner and the thugs were pale with fear. Eris smiled, placing the blade against the manâ€™s windpipe. The two thugs knew that insulting Eris was a very bad idea. â€œWhy donâ€™t you tell me who sent you, and Iâ€™ll make this as painless as possible,â€ she whispered in his ear as the cold blade slid gently across his throat, drawing a thin line of blood. â€œF-Falcone sent me, ok?!â€ he cried. Eris smirked, but was disappointed that he had broken so easily. She stepped back, preparing to ask another question, when she felt something fly past her head and enter the manâ€™s agape mouth. Looking similar to a mouth guard, Eris saw the man grow pale as blood began to pour from the lower half of his face. The men reacted quickly, tearing the mouthpiece from the captives face, revealing a wide, evil-looking smile, carved into his expressionless face.<br/>Eris folded her arms across her chest, and ordered the two thugs to dispose of t he body with the rest, before she climbed once again into the back of a Buick. She needed another long<br/>drive, to clear her head. She looked at the stacks of containers through her sunroof, and thought she could see a coat-tail billowing in the wind; but when she blinked, it was gone.Â Â