Club Vice

"In order to know virtue we must first acquaint ourselves with vice." Marquis de Sade

It was a sticky first day of summer. And here was Damien Nikola Gullucci Provenzano standing in a crowd of black clad mourners as they placed 'Vic' Vice six feet under the earth. It was a sad damn day in all respects. Not only a friend lost but also a great ally against the Genarelli.

He tossed his Lucky to the dirt and ground it under a heel. "Best start shifting back toward the 'mo Nunzio. I highly doubt most of these weeping willows will stop the rain of tears. I saw them place him down, that is enough for me." He turned towards his left hand man. Nunzio Capadocian.

These two were like David and Goliath as best friends. Damien stood a good six foot one but his frame was thin from stress and heritage. Nunzio towered six inches taller and was thick like congealed blood. A mass of muscles housed in black silk.

Damien drew fingers across his own black Gucci double-breasted suit. Meticulous in all things was the boss. It was perhaps a quirk that kept him on top of most things. Obsessive attention to minor details. "Bring it around the front. I want to see Victoria as she places the final affects on the coffin."

With her head bowed respectfully, Victoria clasped hands with a few people that stood next to her at the grave sight. Her bodyguard Andre had insisted that he attend with her, but Victoria wouldn't hear of it.

A funeral was no place for a bodyguard in her opinion. This was something she had to do alone. And Andre was quite respectful of her wishes. He'd been under her father's employment for years and had been assigned to care for Victoria's safety. If she wished to mourn alone he couldn't slight her.

Victoria was the picture perfect portrait of a daughter in mourning dressed in a fine black linen skirt suit by Versace. Elegantly kept blonde locks had been curled into a French knot and capped by a pillbox hat with the customary black fishnet pulled down to cover her delicate features.

Tradition held that she should place something upon her father's casket before it was actually lowered, or perhaps toss something upon it before leaving. Smokey grey orbs focused on the smooth black top of the casket. Tilting her chin up she lowered her eyes and turned from the gaping hole. The spite still ran through her veins with a force greater than any other could imagine. She did little other than snub her deceased father.

Crossing one lean leg over the other she cut through the crowd of people that surrounded the grave. Her gaze turned as cold as steel and her resolve grew even stronger. True in form to nature and the event of a funeral, the hazy atmosphere was spitting down droplets of rain that merely graced clothing but never really soaked in.

Without saying a word she walked directly to her limousine and seated herself inside. A matter of seconds passed before the hissing sound of rolling tires on damp pavement marked her departure.

Victoria seemed aloof, despondent, and not very caring of her father's untimely passing. Truth be known, she did care but not in the way most could recognize or understand. After all, she was now the sole heir to an estate that included a line of luxury hotels that spanned the country. Victor Vice had left his daughter with a multi-million dollar enterprise, and absolutely no roots to her family.

She'd been raised by her father's staff without his presence in a sprawling mansion settled in New York. The day Victoria Oriel Vice was born there had been birthing complications and her mother had died. This was something that Victoria's father had never recovered from.

Yes, he loved his daughter but it was always from afar. Victoria was the spitting image of her mother. And every time he looked at her he was reminded of the loss of his sweet and devoted wife. So he did what any pain inflicted man would do, he used his business and jet-set way of life as an excuse not to see his child.

Regardless Victor Vice had seen to it that his daughter had the best money could buy. She had never been lacking in any form of care or opportunity. Victoria was bathed in luxury with the hope that such material caring could wash away the loss of his presence. It never had. Some would say what transpired instead was the growth of a gaping hole that would eventually make Victoria the jaded and reserved woman she is today.

There had been a few happy times in her young life. While attending a top notch private Catholic School she had grown close to a girl her age by the name of Julie Remington. The girls were practically inseparable as children. On many occasions Victoria was invited to their family holiday celebrations and vacations as if she were a member. While residing in such a loving household the young toe-head was nicknamed Tori with parental affection.

Through such relations Victoria had met Damien for the first time. He'd dated Julie during her junior and senior year in school. Although he was six years older than the girls he had managed to find approval with Julie's parents and attended most of the family functions as well, not to mention treating Victoria to a few dinners out with himself and Julie.

Once Tori and Julie had graduated from school they'd lost touch and gone their separate ways. Tori managed to attend Harvard and earn a degree in advertising. In no time at all she found a job with a reputable firm as an assistant to an executive. Despite her father's name and clout Tori chose to start from the bottom up and work her way to the top. It was during one such opportunity that Tori got her first break.

By chance she'd been given an assignment by her boss that had to be finish post haste. Tori had been given express orders to see that the photo shoot for the ad went forward without a hitch. As luck would have it the model hired for the job didn't show up and they needed someone quick. Tori stepped in and the rest is history. Her face became as famous as her father's line of Prestige Hotels. She was plastered on every billboard and magazine across the country. There had been offers from Playboy to do a photo shoot and Tori actually was in deep consideration concerning such an opportunity. It was priceless. She could kill two birds with one stone.

Her career would be bolstered by the attention and she'd definitely get to her father with the nudity. Before such could happen, her father had died from a massive heart attack. Now here she was, attending his funeral full of venom and spite for the deceased.

Tori gave her head a light shake to clear her mind. Everything was so confusing at the moment. It was too much at one time. More than anything she needed to rest and let things sink in.

The entire funeral service was as much of a blur as the passing scenery outside the speeding limo. This day would forever be forged in her mind as a turning point in her life. It was the end of an era and the beginning of a new reign.