[color=9e0039][u][b]Dominic Omerta - Gomorrah - Zoara Club VIP Lounge[/b][/u][/color] The sounds of boisterous laughter along with the clinking of fine silverware against plates filled the VIP lounge of the Zoara Club. Seated along a long rectangular black table situated at the center of the room were several dozen men in pressed suits sporting a variety of colors. The men laughed and carried on with one another while they finished the remnants of an extravagant meal, all while being waited on by scantily clad women wearing one-piece corsets and high heels. As the server women whisked away scattered remnants of food on dirty plates, the men began to light up cigars or sip on continuously refilled glasses of red wine. Smoke from a half a dozen San Francisco sunlight cigars wafted up towards the high ceiling and covered the room in a light gray haze. One of the men, a balding middle-aged gentleman in a dark blue suit and red striped tie, stood up and raised his recently filled glass. As he started talking, the rest of the room quieted down and all looked to him, with a carefully practiced smile he began his speech, “Okay now listen up everyone, I know nobody here is ever impressed with my ortain’ skills, so I’ll make this fast...” “Hey, that's the best thing about your speeches Johnny. They’re short!” Another man quipped from his seat, eliciting a round of guffaws from the diners. “All right, all right shut up youse guys,” Johnny continued, “I just wanted everyone to grab their glass and raise a toast. I think this one is well-deserved...” All present raised their glasses, and turned towards the far end of the table where a rotund giant of a man in a black pinstripe suit sat nursing a smoldering cigar. Next to him sat an elegant middle-aged woman with deep black hair, who wore an extravagant red sweetheart-style evening dress which eclipsed the fashion of anyone in the room. On her ring finger, sat an incredibly large diamond that glistened in the light. “To our Boss, Dominic,” Johnny cheered, lifting his glass towards the couple, “And his blushing bride-to-be. May their future union be a happy and fruitful one. Salute.” “Salute!” echoed the seated Capos. With a wide smile, Fat Dom raised his own glass and softly clinked it against Marjorie’s. He then stood up, shaking the table as he scooted his chair back, “Well Johnny, you were right….nobody was impressed with your speech! HA!” Johnny gave a chuckle and raised his hands in a mock defensive gesture, then took his seat again. “Thank you all for coming here to celebrate my engagement to the most ravishing beauty in all Vegas,” He gestured towards Marjorie. “Oh Dom, you’re such a charmer,” Marjoie replied with a playful wave of her gloved hand. Dominic grinned and raised his glass once more, “To Marjorie, my future wife, the Angel of the Mojave!” The Capos let out another boisterous round of applause, along with a few cat-call whistles. “And of course, let us not forget,” Dominic continued, “To our friends at the Ultra Luxe, The White Gloves, and to a bright future between our two great Families. Salute.” The Capos raised their glasses, and directed their attention to a pair of White Glove attendants in their characteristic black tuxedos and obscuring masks, who were standing off to the side near Marjorie. The attendants, acknowledging the gesture, bowed deeply in response to Dom’s toast. “Now my friends…stay to smoke and drink as much as you like. Everything is on the house tonight, as usual, so please enjoy. You all know I will...” Dominic smirked as he patted his stomach, earning another round of laughter from his men. ‘Fat Dom’ sat down once more, and turned to Marjorie, “I hope you enjoyed everything my love and the food was to your liking. This isn’t the Gourmand, of course, but our chef is still quite skilled.” “It was wonderful Dominic and the food was excellent,” Marjorie chuckled, “Though I must say, your friends are a bit…rough around the edges when it comes to dining etiquette.” “Ah, you’ll have to forgive them, and me, my love,” Dominic said as he raised her gloved hand and gave it a gentle kiss, “We Omertas are not as sophisticated as your White Gloves, but we do our best.” “Indeed, think nothing of it,” Marjorie said with a reassuring smile. Right at that moment, a man in a charcoal gray suit and matching fedora slipped into the Zoara club and made his way over to Fat Dom. He leaned over and whispered something quickly into the Boss’s ear, and Dominic gave him a nod in return. “I sincerely apologize my love,” Dominic said as he turned back to Marjorie, “But could I ask you to leave the room? I’m afraid my friend here has brought me some business I need to discuss with my men. I daresay it’s all rather boring Omerta politics, nothing of interest to you.” “Say no more,” Marjorie said with a smile and wave of her hand as she stood up from her seat. One of her White Glove attendants quickly moved to help her push the chair back, “I would not wish to intrude on Omerta affairs of a delicate nature. I trust that you will still be able to make our rendezvous tonight at the Ultra Luxe?” “Of course my love, I wouldn’t dream of missing it,” Dominic smiled, “I will see you promptly at 8 pm, and not a minute later.” “Until then darling,” Marjorie replied, blowing him a kiss. She then gracefully sauntered out of the Zoara club room with her attendants in tow. Once she was gone, and certain to be out of earshot, Dominic turned his head to the man. The Capos had all stopped drinking, and strained their ears to listen to their Boss’s next words, “Bring the fuckin’ rat in,” He snarled. —----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Please Boss I ain’t told them nothin’, you hear? I’ve been feedin’ them bullshit…piccadilly shit. Swank hasn’t got anything I swear!” The black table had been completely cleared off, and the server girls had been sent scurrying away. ‘Fat Dom’ was now holding court with his Captains, and the tone of the room had immediately shifted to that of icey tension. Kneeling down facing the long side of the table was a man stripped down to his boxers with his hands tied behind his back. Two black-suited Omerta soldiers stood behind him, with silenced .22 pistols raised and aimed at his head. “You were like a brother to me Tony,” Dominic hissed as he glared down at the traitor, “How long have you been talking out of school to the Chairmen, huh?” “Not long! Only a couple months I swear!” “Cut that crap, give me a date!” Dominic roared. The prisoner cowered, and replied in a stuttering tone, “Last December.” Groans and murmurs of dissent rang out through the ranks of the Capos, until Dominic raised a hand to silence them, “You piece of shit. You’re telling me you’ve been squealing to that bastard Swank for a FULL YEAR?” Dominic stood up from his seat and strode over to the kneeling man, giving him a full slap across his face before spitting on him, “You disgust me.” “Please Dom, please, don’t do this. I ain’t done nothin. I had no choice! My wife…she’s got a gambling problem and a big debt at the Ultra Luxe. I ain’t got the money to pay it…so the Chairmen said they’d help me out. Full debt paid if just did a few favors for them. That’s all!” Dominic slapped Tony again, nearly sending him to the floor, “Now why you gotta insult me personally like that, huh? Why!” He demanded, “You should have come to me, maybe we could've worked something out. What, you didn’t think that since your Boss is bangin' the leader of the White Gloves that maybe, just maybe, he could cut you a deal? ” "Please Dom," Tony sobbed, "I didn't want to get youse involved. That's all. I wanted to handle this myself." "WELL I'M INVOLVED NOW!" Dominic boomed, and he let loose of string of kicks and punches, which caused Tony to collapse in pain. Finally Dominic stopped and with labored breath he sat back down at the table, "Don't give me that shit either. I know why you didn't come to me. You wanted out. I know the Chairmen promised you an all expense paid one-way trip to California when you were done. You broke your oath Tony. You fucked up big…you never leave this thing of ours." Like a flock of excited hens, murmurs of agreement fluttered from the Capos at Dom's statement. "Maurice..Paulie," Dominic looked to the two men standing behind the balled Tony, "Get this sack of shit out of here. Take him to The Green, tie him up at a tree and leave him as food for the freaks out there. Make sure you see what gets him." "Sure thing boss," one of the men nodded. "Oh and Tony?" Dominic gave a sinister smirk as he puffed on his cigar, "I want you to know that pretty wife of yours will be working here starting tonight at The Gomorrah. I'll make sure she pays every-goddamn cap of her debt to the White Gloves….after she pays off all the money you owe the Omertas for years of room and board that is. She's going be very popular...I guarantee it."