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cleaning up messes (tag eddie or belle)
Apr. 20th, 2012 11:21 pmMelinda was furious. Angry beyond all telling, and getting angrier with every passing day.
It wasn't Tabitha's plans, per se, that bothered her, it was her goal and her execution...and that was totally separate from the fact that the woman had defiled all of Melinda's holdings. What few illicit operations she had running had to be shut down, at least temporarily, and her legitimate business holdings were now subject to scrutiny. Making friends with the Rileys was necessary...hardly a hardship, given their skills and connections, but it was still work she didn't need.
And then there was damage control.
The blackmail photos were in her bag, and Melinda was only heading to The Rising Sun because of what she'd seen. They were incriminating, and stolen property to boot...but they were also good. Exceptionally good...Melinda avoided anything too niche when it came to her website, but these fetish shots...
Melinda entered the club and pulled out the camera phone where Tabitha stored her most valuable pieces, scrolling back to an especially pretty shot of a young girl tied to a St. Andrew's cross, head thrown back wantonly and body laid bare. It definitely made the breath come faster and the pulse race, which was exactly the kind of reaction Melinda went for when she was advertising: visceral, uncontrolled.
She was going to spend the next two years undoing all the damage that Tabitha had done, and getting her modest little empire back on track...and blackmail would not do. Loyalty was far harder to shake than coercion, and Belle Devereax was a good photographer. Her twin brother was also sleeping with Jacob Riley, a man with more connections than hairs on his head, two of which were powerful men within the Boston Police Department and excellent stepping stones into Organized Crime. With Vice tied up, having ties in OC would let her re-establish her business dealings with far more ease.
Shutting the image with a wistful sigh, Melinda headed towards the bar, designer heels clicking briskly against the floor as she rapped her knuckles against the bartop before raising her voice.
"Hello? Anyone home?..."
It wasn't Tabitha's plans, per se, that bothered her, it was her goal and her execution...and that was totally separate from the fact that the woman had defiled all of Melinda's holdings. What few illicit operations she had running had to be shut down, at least temporarily, and her legitimate business holdings were now subject to scrutiny. Making friends with the Rileys was necessary...hardly a hardship, given their skills and connections, but it was still work she didn't need.
And then there was damage control.
The blackmail photos were in her bag, and Melinda was only heading to The Rising Sun because of what she'd seen. They were incriminating, and stolen property to boot...but they were also good. Exceptionally good...Melinda avoided anything too niche when it came to her website, but these fetish shots...
Melinda entered the club and pulled out the camera phone where Tabitha stored her most valuable pieces, scrolling back to an especially pretty shot of a young girl tied to a St. Andrew's cross, head thrown back wantonly and body laid bare. It definitely made the breath come faster and the pulse race, which was exactly the kind of reaction Melinda went for when she was advertising: visceral, uncontrolled.
She was going to spend the next two years undoing all the damage that Tabitha had done, and getting her modest little empire back on track...and blackmail would not do. Loyalty was far harder to shake than coercion, and Belle Devereax was a good photographer. Her twin brother was also sleeping with Jacob Riley, a man with more connections than hairs on his head, two of which were powerful men within the Boston Police Department and excellent stepping stones into Organized Crime. With Vice tied up, having ties in OC would let her re-establish her business dealings with far more ease.
Shutting the image with a wistful sigh, Melinda headed towards the bar, designer heels clicking briskly against the floor as she rapped her knuckles against the bartop before raising her voice.
"Hello? Anyone home?..."
