Now

"Mr. McGunner." Catherine stared at the figure that laid lazily on the king sized bed with the red silk sheets nearly falling off the bed. Most of the pillows were on the ground besides for about three of them. The man was laid on his stomach with his head buried within the pillows. His face was buried deep only allowing the sight for his ear and hair to be seen. His hair was a tangled silver mess against the pale skin of his back. The silver hair did little to cover up the ugly sight that his back held. It was littered in scars leaving little virgin skin left. Many of them had healed into simple white stripes, but many of them were not so lucky. His skin had darkened, hardened, and wrinkled to leave an ugly mess of the man's past. As long as she had worked for him, not even once would he dare mention where or how he had gotten the scars. It was not far fetched though for her to imagine though. The male was on the top tier of the underground business, and he was a student of Nickalos White. Little lived to tell the tale once that had meet that man, and Mr. Gunner had done just that. It was a horrible thought, but not once did she allow her eyes to display such pity. It was one reason her boss had kept her so long. At least, that is what she believed.

Catherine sighed as she stood beside the bed and listened to the sound of the gentle breathing of the man. He was slender, yet he was well built. The man had grown to be about six feet tall, which made her often feel rather little. Lucky for her, he often was sitting at a desk or on the red couch within his business. Mr. McGunner stirred slightly and pulled his head from the pillows. This broke her from her spell as she spoke again. "Mr. McGunner." This time his dark long lashes flickered causing for him to peel open his eyes. For a moment the world remained fuzzy only to slowly come to focus. The first thing he noted was the feel of the cold that brushed against his neck and further along his shoulders. He felt nothing on his back though for he had long lost the ability to feel there. It had become numb but whether it was due to his mind or from the scars he did not know.. or care for that matter.

The man's eyes flickered to look over at the black nightstand next to his bed to see the time. It was about 9:00am in the morning. Usually he was up by 6:00am, but he slept in due to the late meeting he had. It was horrible, and in the end it did little benefit him. The company more or less wanted to rob him by offering him such little percent on the earnings. It was a foolish deal. Most likely the man was going for just the use of his name, which the male would not allow. Deirdre's eyes glanced from the nightstand to the dark purple rich carpet, and then finally he moved to pull his eyes around to the women that stood in his room. Only Catherine was brave enough to wake him and to enter his room. No one else dared, which often annoyed him. He hated the idea that anyone would think it wise to wake up the beast.

Groaning under his breath, he forced himself to roll onto his back and sit up. This only further revealed the litter of deep dark scars that covered his chest and along his stomach. Many of them were simple white spots, but the worse was the large one that moved from his shoulder to his ribs. It was not comfortable at all. It often burned with the memory, and it was those days no one dared to approach him... not even Catherine. He did not wait long though for it to be shown because he reached over to snatch up a discarded white shirt on the ground which he yanked on. The male did not like anyone seeing those ugly marks, but just as Catherine had thought he had kept her around due to the lack of pity she had. Not once had the women asked about them, and not once had she pried into his personal life. It was refreshing. After all, Deirdre had her for other reasons. Those being to help him with work, schedules, and to keep others in line.

With a slow yawn and a stretch of limbs the male finally spoke. "What is it?" A grumble brushed under his lips as he stood up. The sheet fell from him onto the bed to reveal the black briefs he wore. There was no shame in his movements though while he looked around the room. Everything was utter perfection, in place, and with purpose. He kept only what was needed in the large room. It simply had his bed which was located on the far back wall of the room. On each side was a black night stand with one having a simple alarm clock while the other had a lamp. The floor was a dark rich purple carpet that thick and made for comfortable walking. On one side of the room was a door that lead to a bathroom while on the other side held a door that lead to an office. On the right side of the room was a built in coffee stations that held a single machine with dark brown cabinets above that held the cups, coffee, and other materials.

The male often needed the coffee before he would tolerate anyone else. "You have a meeting soon sir. Shall I have breakfast brought up for you?" Deirdre's attention moved back to the women and flickered his ice blue eyes up and down her. He debated on cancelling the meeting, however the blond haired women would never allow it. Her hazel eyes watched him with indifference as the eyes took in her navy blue suit and the simple black heels she wore. She was not wearing her glasses today, and her hair was pulled up. It was not like her.

"Did someone comment on your appearance?" The gruff voice asked with a slow silkiness. It was a lovely sound to most, but it always hide a sense of darkness... cold and impossible to escape. It was always even, and it did not allow much to be freely given.

It did not surprise Catherine that he asked though for the male was loyal. Mr. McGunner had always had a soft spot for her, even if she never wanted to admit it. Most likely due to her service. "No sir. I had thought you would like me to look professional for the meeting is all."

Deirdre frowned deeply at such a comment as he turned away from her and moved to the coffee machine. "I will be down in thirsty minutes." The man finally answered.

---

Slender was one of the newest clubs within the city of Tornado. It was an interesting little place, but that was not exactly why people were interested in it. Within the five kingdoms, it was one of the top fastest growing places for smuggling. Of course, that was only backed by the fact it was a shop for one of the mafias that had decided to slip into the Kingdom of Wind. The Kingdoms were all named after the five elements; fire, earth, air, water, and spirit. The Kingdom of Wind was one of the poorest of the five, and it was also the headstone of underground activity. Those that lived here had a story, every single one of them, but there was a second level to the kingdom. The rich. The rich often had everything to to with the movement of everyday and the life of people including that of the underground. It was a huge trading island after all, but with little ability to govern without the darker forces it had become corrupt... often a place that many avoided. It was, however, not always like that... at least.. not until Deirdre gotten there five years ago. Within those five years, he had destroyed it. Now, he needed to own it.

Slender was a good bet for a place to gain further control and build the connections needed to further his reach. However, the male did not plan to allow someone to use him in name only. They wanted a connection in order to move goods in and out of the Kingdom to the others or at least be able to gain what was needed in order to do that. This all came down to connections, and in a kingdom that was influenced greatly by one person that meant pleasing Deirdre McGunner in anyway possible. Deirdre McGunner after all was the key for information. He held everyone's life in his hand, and he often had the power to back up such claims. The man lacked in a way though for while he owned an empire, it was almost as if had nothing to loose. There was nothing he held close to his heart, and that often reflected in a weakness and a strength.

With steel cold eyes, the man watched the dancers from the bar he had taken his place at. They moved with such grace around the pole... the music alluring and driving him to watch carefully as he sipped at the whiskey in his hand. There was little that impressed him, and this did not change as he saw the lack of ability from the women. His own clubs had much more... grace and beauty then this women did. Her movements were not with the music, and she missed the finer details that would turn on a man. Not that she was getting no attention. In fact, Deirdre's eyes flickered over to three men that had placed money into the shameless string that others called panties. It only covered the essentials, but a good show started with everything covered, glitter, and some paint. He smirked at his own little joke.

The club was not that big, but rather it simply held a stage off to the side with a few tables, a bar to the right, and a small dance floor. There were stairs he noted when he walked in the front door that he believed were often used for meetings or... other attempts of entertainment. He had noted that two guards stood by the stairs which were most likely body guards. He had been told to wait the bar when he came, which he assumed was because only a selected few were allowed to slip through to go up there, and he was not one of them. Deirdre smirked at that thought because it would cost them.

Turning away and back to the bar, he adjusted his black leather jacket and moved to brush his fingers through his hair. With a quick swing of his drink he finished it and demanded another one.