[center] [img] http://i383.photobucket.com/albums/oo276/metalsonic2nd/78d46da8-cd62-496d-bb45-bc0a6f01e053_zpskrx5azdo.jpg [/img] [/center]


[url= https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qh13TRVrNfw]

[center] [i] So crack a bottle, let your body waddle
Don't act like a snobby model
You just hit the lotto. [/i] [/center] 
[/url]

The speakers boomed as the Platinum Trio shook the Chunky Chika. Through crowds of sweaty clubbers, Lynne could make out the figure of Damien Simitiae sitting in his private booth, flanked by two bodyguards, with a hefty looking woman draped over him. 

Most of the club-goers were all bundled up on the Chunky Chika’s chess-board dance floor, so it was fairly easy for Lynne to skate her way around the edges, shimmying carefully between tables. 

“Hey! Asshole!” Lynne called out, shouting to be heard over the music, as she strode up to Simitiae’s booth “I hear you took something from me.” 

The Mexican’s bodyguards were up out of their seats in a flash, but one quick gesture from the drug baron had them sitting back down. 

“Alto! Cool it, boys.” The man’s voice was soft , yet it carried a calm authority. 

“You shouldn’t let this skinny puta talk to you like that, mi amor.” Simitiae’s plus-size playmate pouted, tracing once chubby finger across his cheek. 

“Just a second, nene.” Simitiae gave the women a quick peck on the lips “I want to hear what she has to say.” 

“You’re a real gentleman.” Lynne sneered. 

“You got some serious cojones, poco senora.” He laughed dryly “What is that you think I took from you?” 

“My family, shithead!” 

A scream went up as Lynne pulled out her peacemaker, and aimed it squarely at Simitiae’s head. 

The music died, and the mexican’s bodyguards made a grab for their own weapons. 

“You move one inch further and I blow this fucker’s head off!” Lynne snarled from the back of her throat. 

“Keep them holstered.” Simitiae instructed his men, in a voice which suggested this wasn’t the first time he’d had a gun pointed at him “Let's keep a civil head about this. I’m sure kind Mister Javier doesn't want to be scrubbing strawberry jam off of the floor.” 

He regarded Lynne with a cold look. 

“I didn’t kill your family, Miss Riordan. Your father was sloppy, and he got himself curb stomped by that-” 

Suddenly, Lynne felt something sharp rip through her back. She screamed, her gun falling from her fingers, as the thug who’d snuck up on her forced his shiv through her back and into her liver. She tumbled to the floor, as blood pooled out around her. 

[i] So much blood…[/i] 

Lynne limpy raised one hand, gazing on in horror as tendrils of thick crimson leaked through her fingers. 

[i]Oh god...help me, please, help me.[/i] 

Simitiae stroked his nene reassuringly, turning to address his henchmen.

“Pretty standard night in Blúdhaven. Slip Javier some cash, buy the next round of drinks, and this will all disappear.” He shrugged.

Then he fixed his gaze on Lynne. 

“Get rid of the redhead.” 

As the two men scooped her up, Lynne felt reality slip away around her. Darkness consumed her vision, and the world went black.