Diamonds and Nicotine

Captivating. Beautiful. Magnifique.

Simple words were just that: words that fell far too short in giving the proper expression of the City of Lights in its glory at night.
On the surface of it all, seemingly what was said is true; Paris sleeps during the day, blooms at night to bright festivities, music and romance. But beneath the lights laid the secrets and the lesser known part of the city’s livelihood.

It was one night, deep below the beautiful fronts of the city, far where the lights never reached that a girl stood in the pale moonlight, the catalyst of it all.
Her composure and poise, calm and still---she was the vision of lethal precision. She stood still with her eyes closed, her placid expression masking the intense focus and it would seem as if she was simply taking time to enjoy herself. Yet the situation displayed before her both contradicted and betrayed her appearance.

The sound of the alarm was a loud and shrill ringing that pushed through to the farthest corners of the Valerio Family Manor. Within seconds, everyone on the grounds was on high alert, made aware of an unexpected and unwelcome company.

The girl finally opened her eyes and shot a glance to her left where sounds of yelling were coming closer. She took it as a cue and took off from the shadows. She ran, her breathing ragged and her boots slapping against the stone ground in a rapid rhythm, the sound ricocheting off the high ceiling of the hallways. Her thin arms pumped as she pushed herself forward, her frame leaning forward to press her body weight to the balls of her feet as she bounded through the shadows of the dark hallway. She was fast and lithe, her trained body pushing past her limits to speed her forward. Yet despite that, she could hear thundering footsteps coming after her just a mere twenty feet behind her. And they showed no sign of slowing or surrender to let their intruder flee.
A soft scoff passed through her lips and she couldn’t help the small tired smirk that crept onto her dark features. Perhaps it was time to give them what they want.

So she dropped the tension in her shoulders, relaxed her posture and slowly brought her pace to a stop. Calmly, she turned back around, just as a group of armed uniformed men surrounded her.

“ Arrêter! Les mains sur la tête!”

Whether it was intentional or lack of care, she paid no heed to the guns that were also fixed in her direction. The girl blinked at the angry voice that broke the rather tense silence, counting the number of heads standing around her. Then she frowned.
“Well, this is unexpected,” the girl sighed.
Half-heartedly, and ever so slightly exasperated, Mademoiselle Noir raised her hands above her head in a limp surrender.
“I’m all yours, boys.” she let out with a small apathetic shrug.

She was still smirking when one of the armed men stepped forward, lifted his hand arm and brought the butt of gun down across the girl’s temple.



A wave of harshly cold water crashed over Noir’s head, jarring her awake. An involuntary gasp escaped her as the iciness sunk deep into her aching muscles and she felt her heart thunder hard in her chest in reaction. It didn’t take long for her to wake fully and register the foreign setting---a poorly lit, dank room she found herself in. Two vaguely familiar men stood before where she was seated, their expression stern and unforgiving. And suddenly, the head-splitting pain on the side of her head became a painful reminder of the events that had lead up to this point.

One of them took notice of her recovered consciousness and mercilessly thrust a flashlight in front of her face. Noir groaned, averting her eyes from the bright beam.
“Do you mind?” she said, blinking water droplets from her eyes.
The two men exchanged looks and the flashlight was pulled away from her face. Wordlessly, the other pulled something out of his jacket and with a sharp click a sharp combat knife was unsheathed from its handle. He held it by his side, eyeing the girl in the chair before him in silent threat.

Noir glanced around what she could of the room in her restrained state, and saw that her possessions have been confiscated and laid out neatly on a table that was set off a bit to the side. It wasn’t a lot of items; it was only the things she had on her being when she was apprehended after all. It was just the essentials; a combat knife, lock-pick, pair of gloves, small flashlight and a box of cigarettes and matches. Then there was the final item on the table placed among the modest collection, one that was completely out of place and seemingly insignificant. A single dark, raven colored feather stood out on the table from the rest of the item.
Noir stared at it briefly before turning back to the people in front of her. Clearly they were very thorough in their search of the possessions she had on her body.

The man with the knife approached her and grabbed her by her jaw. He brought the knife closer to her face and pressed the tip of the blade lightly to her throat. From the corner of her eye, she saw the other man come around to her right, his arms crossed.
Noir raised an eyebrow and glanced up at him with an amused look.
“Boys, do be gentle.” she breathed out tiredly. “It’s my first time with two French men.”

“Enough,”

All three occupants of the room turned to the only door of the room that had just opened, as a slender, classily dressed and sharp looking woman stepped in. She couldn’t be older than mid-thirties, her youthful appearance contradicting the obvious authority she held over the place. Recognition struck Noir immediately and she hummed to herself.
“To think I would be able to meet the Queen Bee herself, so early into the evening; what an honor,” she spoke smoothly, her tone proper and strangely polite.

The woman stopped after just a few steps, taking in the young girl tied down to the chair, disbelief blatant in her expression.
“Est-ce elle?” she asked, her question directed to her two subordinates present.

Noir watched as the two men stepped away, straightened their posture to full attention, heels clicking and arms held crisply by their sides.
“Oui, madame.” the one on the left replied. They motioned to the table where her possessions were laid out.
The woman glanced over the table and lifted her hand in a dismissive motion, and the two men saluted sharply before quickly exiting the room.

Neither woman spoke for a few moments as they just stared at each other, one in scrutiny, the other indifferent. Finally the silence was broken when the captor spoke.

“Would you mind if I took one?” she asked the girl tied to the chair.

She didn’t wait for a response as she lifted the box of cigarettes off of the table. She tapped the box once to dislodge a stick and picked up the matchbox.
“These are my favorite.” she told her.

She placed the cigarette between her lips before pulling out a match and struck it lit. She lit the cigarette and took a long lazy drag before sighing out, her breath coming out in a soft stream of white. It was only then that she turned her attention back to Noir.

“You’re oddly calm for someone in your situation.” Valerio noted.

The girl would’ve crossed her legs and shrugged, had it not been for the fact that her captors had efficiently and tightly strapped her down to the chair.
“What is the situation?” Noir asked calmly. “From what I hear, this is exactly how your typical business meetings would be like, Madame Vivienne Valerio.”

The sharp woman stopped, gazed darkly at her prisoner before she resumed.
“Ah, excellent. So we have no need to waste time for introductions.” Valerio said, lifting the cigarette up for another drag. Her eyes fell back to the items on the table and came to a stop at the ebony feather and picked it up. She twisted and turned the feather by its quill as she continued. “Though this is quite surprising; I hadn’t expected to meet with the infamous Mademoiselle Noir in this fashion.”

No answer came from the young girl, any words or expression.

Valerio went over to the corner of the room, where an extra chair was tucked away and dragged it over to where Noir was tied. Calmly, she set the chair so she could sit across from her.
“You seemed surprised in the surveillance footage when my men caught you.” she went on. “Clearly you were not expected to be caught.”

“I don’t do what I do to be caught, Madame Valerio.” Noir pointed out. “What kind of game would that be?”

“But you were caught.” Vivienne reminded her. “Clearly, you chose the wrong person to thieve,”

Noir made a motion with her eyebrows, tilting her head slightly to the side.
“Touché.” she said.

Vivienne Valerio sighed, tapped the greying ash from her cigarette and settled back into her chair, studying the young girl in front of her.
“I am curious.” she said slowly. Her captive looked up and blinked, waiting for whatever she was about to say. “My men said that you seemed rather startled at the warm welcome you received back in the vaults. Perhaps that was a bit too overwhelming for someone that sneaks around the dark like vermin?”

Noir smiled, as if to be polite.
“Not at all; I was just a bit offended.” she replied. “I was expecting a bigger party.”

Valerio was taken aback, not just with her reply but with the hidden edge her word seems to hold. She scoffed, covering up her slipped composure with another drag from her cigarette.
“I can’t quite determine if you are stupid or insane. Perhaps you aren’t fully aware of the depth of the situation you are in.” she said, her voice hardening.

“Oh, I’m well aware.” Noir said. “Whether you kill me now, or have your boys play with me before you kill me, the results are the same. I suppose worrying about the inevitable doesn't change that.”

Valerio scowled, thrown off by the little regard the thief she had for her own life. Mademoiselle Noir was a name feared by most of the people in her line of work, being known to be able to steal anything she chooses. Well…almost anything.

“Just like that, you would discard your life?” she questioned. She got a raised eyebrow in response.
“Do I have a choice?” Noir questioned back.

Valerio hummed thoughtfully.
“No…I suppose you don’t.” she murmured.

She then glanced over her left shoulder where the security camera was hanging from the ceiling and made a motion with her hand. Seconds later, a masked man in a medical garb came in through the door, pushing a small metallic cart into the room. Valerio noticed the unimpressed look that didn’t change on Noir’s face as she eyed the cart. That won’t be there for long, she thought to herself.
“I do rather feel pity for you and your failed attempt at my collection.” Valerio said. “But if you came after it, you must know how precious those stones are.”

Noir hummed in consensus, eyeing the newest member in the room with distrust as they made their way to stand behind her.
“The legacy of the Valerio name is said to be reflected in each cut, handpicked diamonds and precious gems with perfect clarity. The Athena Collection is quite literally worthy of gods.” she said, admiration seeping into her tone. “And they were beautiful…well, the little that I saw before that irritating noise began.”

Valerio smirked, feeling her pride bloom.
“I’m glad that my reputation has reached your ears and met your expectations.” she said. “Though I can’t say the same about you, and the expectations I had for you.”
For the first time, a flash of edge came into Noir’s eyes, before returning her expression to the peaceful mask. She said nothing so Valerio continued.
“With your reputation, I expected you long gone and me to be still oblivious of the theft at least until a few more hours.” she said. “But here you are; my vaults intact and your pockets empty. You are a myth.”
Vivienne Valerio leaned forward, so she was closer to the girl.
“But, I am generous if nothing. So as a consolation prize, I have something for you. Just expect a small pinch.”

A look of confusion spread into Noir’s face and she seemed to start to say something when the masked man suddenly grabbed her by her hair and pulled her head back. She was only allowed a startled gasp as he brought a big syringe to her neck and plunged the needle right into the flesh. She let out a strangled sound, as if a pained cry was choked in her throat by shock.
While Noir was distracted by the injection, Valerio tossed the cigarette on the floor, reached into her coat’s inner pocket and produced a hand-size medical injection pistol with a small capsule filled with ominously bright and translucent blue fluid loaded into the dock. The man had just pulled the needle from her neck when Valerio pressed the pistol into Noir’s stomach, just below her left ribs. Then she pulled the trigger.

A sharp and loud click sounded, syncing with Noir’s alarmed cry as she jolted forward from the impact.

Vivienne pulled away, pulling out a clean handkerchief from her pockets and wiping down the barrel of the pistol before handing it to the medical staff that was now cleaning and disposing of the equipment used.
“I will be brief with your now limited time; you were just injected with Blue Rings.” she said.

Noir shot a glare her way in between labored breaths, and for the first time she displayed an emotion that was readable on her face: horror and fear. Valerio went on.

“Those toxins will start to take full effect, and at that time, it would be too late for treatment. Your status will deteriorate rapidly, starting with your coordination and motor skills. Who knows how exactly you would die, there are multiple ways with this one. I suppose it depends on the person.” Valerio said. “You can drown in your own fluids, your heart might explode, or your brain might melt in your high fever. Never pretty and ever a slow death.”
She leaned in so she could whisper in her captive’s ear.
“But one symptom that seems consistent among victims---they are in agony of the purest form, and yet they can’t seem to scream.”
She then pulled away, brushing her dark auburn hair back once before letting out a sigh.
“In the meantime, the blockers I had my assistant here give you will hold back the effects, giving you seventy-two hours window. Though…it will only slow the progression significantly so you may fall ill before the time is spent.”

Valerio picked up the box of cigarettes and pulled out another, lighting it and bringing it to the lips. She pulled in another long drag and breathed it out. Then she sat back into her chair and waited, watching as Noir caught her breath.
Finally, the thief spoke.
“What is it that you want?” she rasped out. “Why go through all the trouble?”

Vivienne Valerio pulled the cigarette away from her lips and smiled.
“I have a business proposal for you.” she said.