Ghost Sighting

[Deleted]

Bushwick isn’t the kind of place most people go to by choice. Despite the numerous gentrification projects New York was so fond of, nothing really seemed to take in this area of Brooklyn. Not even emergency services liked going into Bushwick. Especially after dark. That’s probably why it felt like home to a man like Ghost. People didn’t ask questions in a place like Bushwick. Ghost doesn’t like questions. They always have a way of making things complicated. Complications were things meant to be avoided as far as he was concerned.


That’s what had him pulling up into the parking not of the Neptune Motel. It was the kind of place only good for illegal activity. The regular tenants were some combination of drug dealer, drug user, prostitute, or pimp. Best of all, they accepted cash. Ghost loves working with cash. Cash was a lot harder to trace, making him a lot harder to find. It was a beautiful thing, even though he was cringing inside at the $80-a-night price tag. Ghost could still remember the days when rooms like these didn’t cost more than $50. Times keep changing, he keeps moving forward.


Securing his room on a day-to-day basis, Ghost made his way to the room with the few belongings he had. A military-style duffel bag was slung over one shoulder with a simple, black guitar case over the other. In his left hand, Ghost was carrying a long, slim metallic case as he steps through the door to his coffin of the room. There really wasn’t much to the place. A small bed, a simple table with the remote bolted to it, and a television that was state-of-the-art two decades ago. The bathroom wasn’t much more than repurposed closet with the very basics of a toilet, sink, and shower. Ghost was satisfied with his initial inspection. At least it didn’t have roaches. That was always a plus.


He drops his friends onto the bed, standing up to stretch his arms over his head. It was a long ride to New York, and his body was feeling it. He might be a big, bad werewolf, but even his body felt the physical strain of multiple hours on the back of a motorcycle. His guitar case was placed gently beside the bed before he started to unpack the contents of his duffel bag. Ghost had packed the duffel bag in a classic, military fashion out of habit. A spare pair of work boots came out first, followed by four pairs of socks. Three different T-shirts were removed next, and finally two pairs of jeans. Beneath the clothing was the real contents of the duffel bag. His military-grade M-4 was removed first. It was equipped with a standard-issue ACOG scope, foregrip for increased stability, compensating for recoil, and a hairtrigger to increase the fire rate even further. An instrument like this, in the hands of a man like Ghost, becomes something truly terrifying.


Checking the equipment on his rifle, Ghost gave a thorough inspection before placing it down onto the bed. The next item removed was a large, rectangular canvas bag. A fully disassembled Remington M870 MCS was resting inside. The shotgun came with three options for barrels, two different stock options, and the ability to fire both shells and slugs. For his needs currently, Ghost decided to go with the short, 10-inch barrel over the longer 14 and 18-inch varieties. The pistol grip was secured into place to make for a proper sawed-off look. He knew he was sacrificing quite a bit of range for a more powerful blast, but it was a necessary risk. A few shells were loaded into the chamber before Ghost placed the shotgun beside his bed within easy, quick reach.


His custom-made Desert Eagles were removed next. A beautiful pair of black pistols with the image of a wolf on each grip. They were both carefully loaded with silver rounds, giving him the edge against supernatural creatures at the cost of both range and stopping power. Silver is powerful against other werewolves and even some vampires, but the metal was too soft to make for a truly effective bullet. It was another risk Ghost had to take. They were also very expensive to make. Ghost was able to make them himself, making it easier for them to be obtained, but the cost forced him to use them sparingly. Still, his philosophy has always been that it’s better to have something and not use it rather than need something and not have it. Sliding the holsters onto his shoulders, he secured them into place, relaxing when he feels the familiar weight.


The last thing taken from the duffel bag was Ghost’s most treasured possessions. A pair of stag-handled hunting knives. They were the last gift his father ever gave him, given to him the night Ghost became a full member of the MC. The knives have saved his life on countless missions over the years, almost like his old man was still watching over him. Clipping them onto his belt, Ghost takes out the burner phone he purchased on his way into the city. It was time to make contact with the only person he knew. Ghost wasn’t a man who really had friends, but nobody can survive alone.


Text message to Digital_Daggers:

In town. Need to meet. Total replacement plus information. Price negotiable. Respond ASAP.


Sending the text, Ghost moves to sit on the bed with his back against the head board. He reaches into the side pocket of his bag, taking out four extended magazines for his rifle along with a couple boxes of ammunition. His fingers skillfully begin to work the bullets into the magazines with a steady rhythm, his eyes staring forward to the wall while he waits for Digital to make contact.

[Deleted]

Ghost allowed his mind to drift while his fingers continued the monotonous task of filling his magazines. Once they were filled, he taped the ends together to allow him for even faster reloads. That was one of the parts they always left out of the movies. Sure, magazines are cheap, but they were still something a person had to buy or replace. They don't just get passed out at the local gun store like advertisement flyers. While Ghost wasn't lacking finances, he is a man that didn't grow up with much. The memories of having absolutely nothing continues to cause him to be careful with everything he has today.

It was inevitable that his mind would drift toward the places that he didn't want it to go. He was right back in Afghanistan. The RPG had just ripped through the back of their carrier. His ears were ringing so bad that he wanted to puke. Combine the fact that he just saw someone literally exploding next to him, and Ghost's primal instincts were rapidly pushing to the surface. He wanted to change. He wanted to hunt. He wanted to feel the pulses of the insurgent's lives slowing down to a stop between his jaws. He wanted to feel blood filling his belly as he tore them apart. He wanted all of these things and more, but a single sound stopped him in his tracks.

A whimper. A plea for help. These are things that had never so much as tempted him before. But that day? That day something strange came over him. Something he was sure his handlers had ripped out of him, like so many other things. Compassion. Here was this girl, Jessie or something like that. A few hours ago, he was listening to her laughing and talking about how excited she was to go home. There she was now. Bleeding to death on some shitty, unpaved road in the middle of a country that didn't want them there, to fight a war that was likely just an excuse for rich men to get richer. Ghost had seen a lot of things recently that had him seriously questioning what the hell he was doing.

Going to her was the worst decision he ever made. He had no idea he was bleeding from the attack. His mind and body had been conditioned to ignore things like pain. He would feel everything later, but in the heat of the moment, he didn't notice anything. Her eyes had a lot to do with that. The absolute fear he saw in her eyes. The girl was terrified. It was a look he had seen so many times, so many different faces. It had no effect on him before. But staring down at her eyes, he felt something. She just wanted to go home. She was just a kid trying to better her life like so many others. Like him so many years ago. She was just like him.

Ghost just wanted to save her. After all the lives he had taken or helped to take, he wanted to at least give one back. This one. Just give him this one. That was all he wanted, but he learned a long time ago that people like him don't get to have what they want. Instead, he just destroyed what life she had. She would have been better off if he had just left her. At least she would only be dead, instead of a monster.

That's why Ghost was in New York. Jessie was here. Somewhere. Everybody thought she was a lost, abandoned pup left in the world by a thoughtless, careless sire. It was the image he wanted everybody to see. Jessie was a good kid. Ghost was in no position to take care of her. He's survived on his own for so long. He had no real understanding of the "polite" society of their kind. He knew the gist of how the system worked, but Ghost has never been able to find a leader worth following. He doesn't think he's much of one either.

Feeling the buzzing of his phone next to him, he picks it up to look over the message. He responded quickly before a response came right back. Confirming his meeting with Digital, he got to his feet with a smooth, graceful ease that was most definitely not human. He slipped back into his vest, making sure his holsters were completely covered before tying his hair back away from his face. A glance to the side made him catch his reflection in the mirror, causing him to pause briefly. Smirking to what he sees, he shakes his head softly, "No such thing as redemption for folks like you, Dante. Stop dreaming."
                                        
He steps out of his motel room, locking the door behind him. It was a pretty futile gesture. Somebody could easily break into the room without much effort. Unfortunately for Ghost, he had to rely on the fact that he doesn't exist and hope for the past. Stepping over to the Harley-Davidson Fatboy, he swings his leg over the machine before settling into the seat. The powerful engine explodes to life with a kick as he carefully backed away from his motel room. He takes a moment to double check the address before smiling slowly. Perfect. He was starving!

Checking the traffic, he falls back out onto the road to make the short drive to some of the best pizza on the planet. And to begin to check in on the life he has felt he has stolen.

[Deleted]

It had been a long day. A long day that Celestra was wishing to be over. She was at home in her office working on some papers for one of her clients. She didn't do forgery work for many people but she did have a handful of clients. It was funny, she was currently working on the one she always called 'the ghost' because she knew exactly who it was, even though he would always contact her anonymously, and the little f*cker was pretty hard to trace too. As she was working on his she got a message from the man that actually called himself Ghost. Him she was able to keep just a few more tabs on. She knew exactly who he was, although he didn't have a single clue who she was. When she got the text she was surprised. A face to face. At first she was hesitant but after thinking about it, she felt it was good time he knew exactly who she was. She knew enough about him to know he wouldn't be running around telling anyone. Not with how hard he himself tries to stay under the radar.

It also gave her an excuse to go get pizza at her favorite place. Finishing up on her original work she put the finished product in a large yellow envelope to be dropped off the next day with her courier.  Once that was done she began to work on Ghost's request. A few key stroked took her to one of her many programs where she secluded him a new birth certificate under a new false name and a new social security card. Once that was through, a bank account was created as well as a new credit card. She then moved on to her machines to create the ID and actual credit card needed.She through in a passport and a couple of other things she thought he would need. All in all it only took her three hours, mostly because she already had things set up and prepared since he is such a frequent customer. She packed all of the materials into another yellow folder and slipped it into her bag. Standing to her feet she took her bag and left her office and headed into her bed room. 

A quick shower was taken and she brushed out her hair, put on a simple black dress and heels and through on her glasses before grabbing her bag and heading out the door as she called her driver. "Bring the car around. No, not the limo, just the Escalade. Only two." Hanging up she headed down the stairs. By the time she reached the front of her home the car was there waiting for her. She moved to the back and slipped in as the door was opened and then closed for her. Sitting back she began to question herself a bit. Was this smart? Probably not but she was always a do first and deal with the consequences later kind of girl. As the car drove she relaxed in her sit and simply watched the building fly by. When they arrived at Gino's the door was opened for her and she stepped out, slipping her bag on her shoulders. "Park across the street." She then looked to the two cars that were following close behind and she simply twirled her finger in a upward facing circle a few times. This indicated to them that they should drive around the block every so often. 

Walking into Gino's she had a smile on her face. She nodded to the man, Tony, behind the counter and nodded. "The usual?" He asked. Celestra nodded. "Always." Once that was taken care of she moved to the back of the very small pizzeria. There was more then one Gino's in Brooklyn but this was her favorite simply because it stood true to its original state. While the others looked like restaurants with plenty of round tables and chairs and a lot of greenery and decor, this place held just nine tables. All booths, but not the comfortable kind. No these were not cushioned seats, they were wood and linoleum. They kept them up to date so they weren't worn out of anything, but there weren't many pizzerias that stood true to themselves. On the walls there was a picture of the Brooklyn bridge, another of Coney Island, and various pictures of all the famous Italians the owners met. It was the very first place she could remember ever having pizza. 

She arrived a little early, about ten minutes or so. This gave her enough time to choose the seat, which she chose the one in the far corner, which kept her back to the wall and allowed her the view of the front door. The building was in the middle of the block so the only windows were at the very front. It also gave her time for her pizza two arrive. Two slices with pepperoni and a large Pepsi. Pure heaven.

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Ghost arrived at the restaurant early. Way too early. Several hours too early. But that was part of his overall plan. He didn't know the area as well is someone who lived there. This meant that he was at a disadvantage. Ghost never likes to be the one with a disadvantage. A true hunter is never caught unprepared. And in his mind, Ghost is the best there is. He needed to do some recon.

Rather than sit at the restaurant for the next several hours looking like some kind of creeper, Ghost drove around the neighborhood instead. He let his senses roam the entire time, taking in the different smells and sounds of the area. The smallest details have a way of telling the biggest stories. The area wasn't much different than the other places he had been through. In some ways, it was a lot nicer. He caught the familiar scents of drugs, alcohol, and fear, but he also noticed things that he would swear were going extinct. The sound and smell of a family cooking dinner. The laughter of children playing in a park. Even a few dogs barking, trying to protect their territory. It was all a bit… difficult to process. Ghost could still remember days like this. He missed them. He missed his club. But he had to quickly remind himself. Dead men don't get to go back home.

He also learned the streets, driving back and forth from the neighborhood to the motel several times. Each time, he would take a different route, using different streets. This was done so that he could monitor the timing of the streetlights. Some were better than others. He needed to find which ones would work best for a given situation. If a streetlight stays red more than usual, he would normally avoid it. Though he would make sure to remember where it was in case he needed the chaos sometimes provided by running a red light. He even examined the blocks surrounding the restaurant, looking at rooftops and examining sightlines. He felt like he could trust Digital, but someone didn't last as long as he has by simply trusting. If he was wrong about his contact, he needed to make sure defend himself against any ambush. Some would call Ghost paranoid because of his thinking. Others would see a very cautious, very meticulous man that leaves as little to chance as possible. Measure twice, cut once. That's how Ghost did things.

Once he was satisfied that he was prepared, and it was closer to the time of their meeting, Ghost made his way back to Gino's. He wanted to make sure he didn't arrive early or late, but to be there exactly at the time they agreed upon. Hackers tend to appreciate precision and punctuality. Showing up early, he might put her on edge. Showing up late could piss her off. The Harley came rumbling around the corner, the smell of the pizza hitting his stomach hard. He really could use something to eat. Fortunately for him, his hunger wasn't enough to keep him from spotting the second Escalade parked across the street. Rather than making him call off the meeting, he actually grinned. Digital was thinking the same way he was. It was always fun to find someone with similar principles.

His Fatboy was parked behind the Escalade she had arrived in, Ghost stepping off of it to move into the restaurant. His every movement was smooth and graceful, walking with just enough swagger to catch the eye but not enough to come across as arrogant. His jeans were a bit on the faded side of the spectrum, with several rips and tears along the way. His T-shirt was black with the Jack Daniels label printed on the front, as well as his vest, which was mostly blank with the exception of a name tag that read "Ghost". Closer inspection of his vest would reveal that there had been several more patches that have since been removed.

He allowed his eyes to slowly roam over the interior of the restaurant until he found who he was looking for. His instincts told him he had to be her, but…Wow. That was a whole lot more beautiful than he was expecting. He had always pictured Digital as some nerdy college girl, wearing sweatpants and hoodies, and extremely socially awkward. This was anything but that. So much so that Ghost had to take a moment to remind himself to keep his mind on business. Instead of what that dress might look like crumpled on the floor. There was no time for things like that.

Gathering his senses, he makes his way toward the counter to order a few slices of pizza for himself. Pepperoni of course. He also took the time to get himself a large Pepsi. Because Pepsi is life. Finally approaching the booth, he slides onto the seat across from her with a small smirk. "I hope you didn't get all dressed up for little ol' me…"

He had a slight twang to his voice, a carryover from his childhood living in Southern Florida, but his voice faded when he got a good look at her face. His head tilted to the side with a look of recognition. She knew her. Well, he knew of her. He had seen her pictures in the newspapers and magazines. She was kind of high-powered business leader. There were some rumors about her family was connected to some shady practices, but nothing solid. Ghost only knew the truth because he had done some work for her family in the past. Anonymously. "So… Did I make a mistake here? I was supposed to meet someone here. Did I get the wrong table?"

[Deleted]

She would probably have done the same thing, if she didn't know the city like the back of her hand. Besides, she was busy working on what he needed. She watched him as he came in and both her brows arched. She had seen pictures of him obviously, having made him many a identification card, as well as the ones she had found while looking him up. Still, they did nothing for him. The site of him in person was much much different. He was a walking contradiction. The man could be a model for Calvin Klein or something, but he was rough, gritty, a biker. It looked good on him.

As he approached her table she allowed a soft smirk of a smile hit her lips as he took a seat across from her. The smirk only grew as the realization seemed to hit him of who she was. She shook her head softly. "No mistake." She removed the envelope and slid it across the table to him before extending her hand. "Name is Celestra Genovese, but you know me as Digital_Daggers."

[Deleted]

That was a perfect description for Ghost. The man really was a walking contradiction in so many ways. He relaxed slightly when he saw the smirk on her face. At the very least, he wasn't going to have to worry about offending her easily. It was one of the biggest adjustments he's been struggling with. He has spent the majority of his adult life talking to military and military personnel. There was a certain morbid crudeness to those interactions. Ghost wasn't quite adjusted to being back in polite society.

"I suddenly feel very underdressed, Miss Genovese. I'm gonna have to apologize. I left all my expensive suits at my summer home in Monaco. I'm sure you know how it is," He smiles to her, his voice clearly playful with no real mocking behind his words. Looking to the envelope and the extended hand, he reaches into his vest very deliberately and carefully to take out a thick envelope of his own. His hand extends beneath the table to pass the payment to her while his other hand casually grasps hers. His grip was firm, but not crushing. He was strong and powerful, but he wasn't trying to throw it around. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Dante Sanz, but you know me as Ghost."

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She knew all about being a walking contradiction. Celestra herself was pretty much the same. She did not look like the typical Italian Mafia Princess with her red lips and tattoo'ed skin. She actually loved that fact about her. People didn't see her coming because she was far from what anyone would expect.

She laughed softly, her hand taking his and shaking it firmly as the other slid under the table and took the envelope he passed before slipping it into her bag. Releasing his hand both of her own were brought to the table and folded in front of her. "As you can tell I am sure, I am not exactly the suits kind of girl, even if my life requires them at times." She then nodded softly to his name. "I know who you are. Dante Sanz, born in Florida. Member of The Sons of Anarchy MC, Miami chapter." She smiled softly and extended her right arm. On her forearm was a tattoo of The Sons symbol. "I know of your club very well. At least, I used to. It is nice to finally meet you in person." With all the introductions out of the way and her food and soda sitting there now in front of her she had to take a slid of the pizza, folding it, and bring it to her mouth to take a bite, her free hand used to pull at the cheese to break it.

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It was not much different for Dante. He always saw his contradictions as one of his biggest assets. Not just with his looks, but also with his personality. His time working for the government had done a lot of harm to him, physically and mentally, but somehow his spirit always managed to stay intact. He could only thank the contradictions of his personality for keeping him from being completely broken. They have been keeping him alive.

He grinned to her in return, taking the documents once the envelope was in her hand. It was one of those small gestures he made to show that he was operating in good faith. He didn't even touch her work until he had properly paid for it. Opening the envelope, he discreetly looks through the documents before smirking. "No. You're definitely not a suit kind of girl. You have perfect curves. A suit would never do your body justice."

Putting the envelope back down, he listens to her rundown of who he is. Or was. His eyes drift to her tattoo, and he couldn't keep the look of longing off of his face. He missed his brothers. More than he could ever put into words. Shaking his head slightly, he smiles to her softly. "Well, that was a long time ago. Dante's been dead for over 20 years now."

There was a sadness to his voice, but it quickly disappeared at the arrival of the pizza. He could feel his stomach grumbling for the deliciousness. Taking a sip of his Pepsi, he sighs softly with pleasure before picking up his own slice and folding it in half. "I got some other work for you if you are interested. Probably not much for you, but money is money, right?"

[Deleted]

It was strange. One wouldn't think that spending time with an MC would help someone like her but it truly did. She was able to see things for both sides of the spectrum. It was different and it made her different. Unique.

She appreciated the sign of trust in her work and she watched as he looked over the documents, wanting make sure he approved. He seemed to but it was his words that brought the smile to her lips. "Thank you for the compliment. Who knew you could be smooth too. A flirt by nature?" She laughed softly.

She nodded in understanding at the look he gave when he saw her tattoo. She too missed the club but she needed to focus on her new life. Taking over her family businesses was something that was important to her. She was proving herself a strong player in what had always been a man's world. "So I read."

She smirked as she chewed on her pizza when she watched him with his own. A soft sigh at how good the pizza was could be heard as she took another bite before putting the pizza down and picking off a pepperoni and popping it into her mouth. She took a sip of her Pepsi and let out a soft ahh sound before she arched a curious brow. "Money is money, however I do this work because I enjoy it, not for the paycheck. So, what do you need?"

[Deleted]

It really was strange. The MC was his life growing up. It was all he ever cared about. From the first time he got to ride on his father's bike, he knew. He was going to be a Son. Losing that is what really made Dante into the man he is today. A living, breathing ghost.

Her work was impeccable as always, but he still had to chuckle every time he saw his new name. It's why he kept coming back to her. She always found names that fit, like now. Christian Jacob "CJ" McIntyre. It wasn't bad as far as fake aliases go. When he was first on his own, some hack of a counterfeiter stuck him with Carlos Guadalupe. Dante ended up speaking Spanish for the next six months just to keep his cover.

There was no denying it. Celestra was a very impressive woman. Not just because she was absolutely gorgeous. Dante knew quite a bit about her business credentials. The woman was a fucking powerhouse. He would not want to be going against her inside of a board room. Her combination of will and conviction made her a very formidable businesswoman. It's part of what made her so hot.

He chuckled softly when he begins to stuff his face, forcing himself to slow down. Old military habit. The idea that he could take his time to enjoy his food was still something he was getting used to. Even after years of several of his ties to the US government. Taking a drink of his Pepsi, he reaches around his neck to take a dogtag from the chain he wears around his neck. He slides it across the table toward her. "I need to find her. She goes by Jessie. Might have changed her last name, but I doubt it. I can probably do it myself if I have to, but I figured you might be able to get me a lot more information a lot faster than I can with my Google skills."

[Deleted]

She always tried to be realistic when creating a new identity for him. She knew what his ethnicity was, but he did hold a different look in comparison. She always tried to make sure his name was something he looked like he could be. No need to have any reason to question anything, even if he could cover his ass by speaking a different language. It was just a stupid thing to do.

She didn't know about being impressive, she was just determined. She knew what she wanted and she got it. Simple as that. If plan A didn't work out she always had a plan B and C and D. Think five steps ahead, just in case.

She continued to watch him with a smirk, taking another bite as it was his time to speak. She licked her lips and grabbed a napkin to wipe her hands and the corners of her lips as she listened to him. She looked at her removed the tags before he slid them to her. She took the dog tags off the table and inspected them. Looking to him she nodded and placed them in her bag. "I will find out what I can. No payment needed. At least not cash. A marker. A favor. I may need one in the future from you."

[Deleted]

It was the way that made the most sense, but people just didn't take as much care with things like she did. That was why he was a repeat customer. Not only did she take great care of her work, she was one of the first people that could work with his ethnicity without making him want to drive her head through a wall. It didn't seem that complicated to him. His father was Spanish and Native American. His mother was full-blown Spanish, as in from Spain, but raised in America. It was where his complexion, hair, and eyes came from. He took after his mother, but still had a lot of his father's features.

He thought she was impressive, and that is what mattered to him. The determination was a trait they had in common. While everybody else was playing checkers, Dante was playing chess. He saw that same quality in Celestra. It was very attractive.

Her words were a bit of a surprise to him. Most people didn't want to favors from him. At least not the kind of favors that people wanted. Taking a bite out of his pizza, he considers the offer carefully. He finally shrugs his shoulders to her with a small smile. "Sure. I can do that. Whatever you need. Whenever you need it."

[Deleted]

Celestra took care in everything she did. She was a stickler to details. Everything from the paperwork she had to do daily in regards to the family businesses to the credentials she created to every keystroke on her computer to the security in and around her home. Even in the way she did her makeup. She tried to do everything as close to perfect as possible.

She appreciated his thoughts when it came to her as she herself thought he was very impressive himself. She was able to get deeper into his past then he would probably like. She knew things about. Knew enough to know that a favor from him was worth more then any amount of money. She knew what he was capable of.

Knowing what he could do was more then enough reason to want a favor from him. With her family, favors tended to be of more use then people would think. She continued to eat as they spoke, not letting any of her pizza go to waste. The occasional sips from her Pepsi taken before she smiled. "Good. I will get to it as soon as I get home and call you when I have any information."

[Deleted]

Dante wasn't much different from her. His experience taught him the importance of paying attention to details. The little things often revealed more than the grandest of gestures. This is why he was always meticulous with everything he did. From meeting a contact face-to-face for the first time to actually carrying out an assignment to the precautions he takes to keep his presence from being revealed. There was no substitute for perfection.

His thoughts were very high of her. He wouldn't be happy about how much she really knew about him, but he also was very well aware of that possibility. She was a world-class hacker after all. It would only be in her best interests to dig into the background of the people she was working with. Besides, it was kind of fun for him. He didn't have to explain things. She already knew.

His pizza was steadily devoured while he was talking to her. He knew full well what favors meant to people like her. They came from the same world, just different sides of the spectrum. Which was also the reason he was confident that she understood. He gave her his word. That was more powerful than any contract. Slouching slightly into the seat, he smiles across the table to her. "I'm not trying to be smooth, but this has been really nice, Celestra. Thank you for meeting with me. Maybe we can do something again without any business involved?"

[Deleted]

Details were very important. It was no different in her... hobby... just one key stroke changed everything you were trying to accomplish. Hell one mistake could destroy.

The fact she already knew so much about him and yet she was still there spoke volumes about the kind of woman she truly was. She didn't scare easily. She was curious. She was intrigued. When it came to Dante, she was a lot of things, all of which made her want to know him.

She knew he understood and she took him by his word. With everything she knew about him and the cultures he came from, she knew his word was bible to him. Hearing him though she arched a brow and smirked. "Are you asking me out on a date Dante? Oh, I'm sorry. CJ?"