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"Slick."

I take a drag from my cigar in the private room on the third floor. (2nd level)

"Lord English, sir."
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That's not my name, but it's one I'm known by. My hideous sister tried to leak that bit of information out, but she has bullet to the torso. Well, a few. 37 exactly.

English.... that's a not the surname I go by. Not going to think about it, but my family has a messed up history. We're all over the place.

I'm not related to those traitorous  fools, but they did make me the most feared and whispered about man in this century. As thanks, I've taken their surname as my alias.

Only a few know my real name.
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"Speak Slick, I don't have all day."

I snap with an even tone. Spades Slick didn't flinch. He's a good hitman professional at work.

He should get a raise.... I wonder who will give him one?

"I've sent a consolation gift to the birds nest."

"Good."

I take another drag from my cigar. I offer one up to Slick and he takes the offer.

"They better be grateful I don't wack snotty worms, can't get a dame who deserves me if she thinks I won't treat my heirs right."

"Sir, not to nag, but you have high standards."

"Of course! I won't take just anyone, a parasite is a parasite after all."

Droogs pipes up from the left side of the room, near the stairs.

"I bet the first doll you meet will reject you."

"Droogs, I will add color to your beady eyes, I swear."

After that, the meeting is over.

"Hey, boss. The basement ring's number one fighter is on another streak tonight and there are rumors he wants to meet you."
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(Slick in the background with double birds flying.)
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"Thank you, Snowman. You can go home now."

I round up the boys and Kick Deuce down the stairs we walk down into the basement. There's a fight going and the filthy rubbish is crowding a round, waving twenties in the air.

I take note of the fighters.

The one on the left is nondescript, not muscular or big.
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The one on the right though..... he's a big fella. He's at least 8"ft tall with pale skin and black, short hair in a little pony tail. He's in a white tee with bandages a round his hands and wrists.

He's a lean boy, young looking.... a bit feminine and a sharp glance in his bright, blue eyes. He's sneering down at his smaller opponent.

"Once again, the third win this night for the reigning champion, The Blue Nightshade!"

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As I stroll pass, I wonder about the girly name.

Why not something scary or tough? Nightshade is a flower, right?

"It's better than what I was called previously."

I must of said that out loud.

I turn to him.

"Oh? What was it?"

"Pretty lily. The boys thought I was a push over despite the height."

"You are soft looking."

"Then come over and have a talk with me. My little hands would love to meet your ego. Climb to the top and jump to death for hours."

(God, that didn't make sense.)

"Oh yeah?"

The bystanders are backing up or leaving. My men are standing near my personal table.

"Yes, your ego's bigger than your body. I would say brain, but that wouldn't mean much."

"You've got a pair on you, huh?"

One man stifles a laugh and I look at him, sweat starts to pour from him.

"I don't joke, why the ugly grin?"

"No wonder your so dull, and considering I lack a pair of anything other than eyes, I don't blame the misunderstanding. No bird flies with wounded wings."

".....What?"

There was a pause.
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(Completely missed the hint he gave.)

"....How old are you?"

".....fifteen."

"......"

"......"

"You're a kid."

"And?"

"You're picking a fight with me- I'm still bigger than you!"

"So?"

"....I'm going to enjoy humiliating you."

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BYE!! So I kind of haven't checked for any errors in the story and I'm just typing them as I go. Hope That's fine!

Edit:
It seems wattpad does not have the strike through feature, so I'm underlinning phrases instead. It means that those are phrases they want to say or corrected themself from saying. Or they were options that could have happened.