Hope you enjoy the new chapter. Oh, and for those of you who haven't read it yet, I've wrote a little spinoff AU to this story called "You Know I'm No Good". I plan on updating it when I'm not updating this story so you guys can enjoy something. I'm planning to only have one or two more chapters of that up before it ends, so start reading it and look for updates on that story and this one! PLEASE READ AND REVIEW! IT'S REALLY APPRECIATED~

Liz slammed her car door and looked up at the large high rise she had just pulled up to. Its parking lot was more exclusive than she had thought; gates and guards were protecting the place like little attack dogs. After locking her doors, she made her way to the front entrance. She wasn't one for architecture, but she couldn't help but marvel at the modern detailing of the building. Reddish pink lights shone up against the metallic walls that seemed to go up into the clouds. Judging by the height of the building, it went up at least fifty stories. At least that's how big it had to be, because a certain woman she knew owned the whole fiftieth floor and actively lived in it.

That woman also happened to own the entire building, and her name was Viola DeWynter.

The Saints' leader strode through the revolving door and took a peek inside. The whole lobby was decked out in full Morningstar fashion just like the outside. Classy metal star decorations adorned the walls in all the right places, and the expansive room was covered with marble floors and red walls. Subtly pink carpets led to the front desk, where a girl with a Morningstar pin sat and answered phone calls. Liz wasn't surprised that the decoration of the place hadn't changed to purple; it would've been too big of a risk. Sending the Syndicate a message was supposed to be her job; not Viola's.

Although it angered her to see the pink and red hues surrounding her, now was not the time to complain. She approached the desk and cleared her throat. The attendant didn't even put down the phone until Liz said something.

"Liz Monroe to see Viola DeWynter." she said with a scowl. Viola's name soon garnered the woman's attention and she looked up to see who she was dealing with. Usually only wealthy businessmen or Morningstar lieutenants came to visit the famous fiftieth floor, but the person in front of her was none of those things. Clad in purple heels, black skinny jeans, and a loose violet button down shirt, she stood and looked for an answer. Her purple ensemble seemed to clash with the secretary's cerise dress.

She held the phone against her shoulder to block out any of the conversation that could be heard. "And who are you, anyway? Viola only takes certain guests who have appointments."

"Ever heard of the Saints?" Liz asked nonchalantly. The woman looked at her up and down again, and the visitor's purposed seemed a little too clear now.

"I'll buzz her and make sure she's ready." she said.

Viola stared into her reflection with the ornate mirror in front of her. Ornate was actually a word that would describe the whole bathroom; dark wood and white granite covered the immense space that was also decorated with Morningstar accessories. The small bits of pink gave her comfort and, in a very reassuring way, reminded her of Kiki.

She uttered a small sigh and parted her lips to apply her lipstick. After smearing the scarlet color onto her lips, she threw her hair into her usual ponytail and walked towards the double doors leading to her closet.

After throwing the doors open, she made her way over to a small drawer to put the final touch on her outfit: her metal belt.

The closet was only half as big as the bathroom, but it was equally as luxurious. It matched the adjacent room perfectly, and it was filled with clothes from floor to ceiling.

Or, at least half of the room was.

The other half had been filled with Kiki's clothes before her untimely demise.

Now, that side of the room was bare; the shelves held absolutely nothing and the racks only had wiry hangers on them. It symbolized something terrible for the remaining DeWynter; something that she would never speak about to anyone.

Viola stared down into the drawer after putting on her favorite accessory. There was one other object occupying the small box. It was a chain identical to hers, with the exception of a few imperfections. Miniscule scratches and dents marked the belt in places only Viola would be able to identify.

The belt wasn't just a copy of hers. Like the barren side of the room, it was one of the few memories she kept of her late sister. Everything else had been hidden away somewhere. Photos, clothing, and other memories had been fused into her brain.

The death of her only sister had changed Viola into a person she never thought she would become. She used to be a bright young art dealer who, along with her sibling, was unstoppable. Now, she was a walking façade of hatred and envy towards the Syndicate. She shoved the drawer back into place and walked out into her bedroom, then proceeded into the main living space where she heard the telephone ringing.

"Hello?" she answered monotonously. She checked the clock on the wall and sighed. Why she had made an appointment this early was a mystery to her, but she had been expecting her associate to be a little later than expected. Expecting the leader of the Saints to be up, ready, and at her destination by eight thirty in the morning was setting the bar a little too high in her opinon. Viola hoped the meeting would be brief and to the point.

"Your, uhm, boss is here." the secretary said. Viola grunted in response.

"Send her up."

The phone clicked, signaling that Liz had been granted permission to visit the top floor. Within minutes, the elevator dinged up to Viola's residence and a tall woman stepped out. Her heels clicked on the wooden floor, and she hesitated to take off her aviator shades. The glasses hid tired eyes with lids that were frosted by makeup. After tucking the accessory into her shirt pocket, she strode over to Viola with a smirk.

"You need better help down there, honey. The girl you've got is a little too bitchy for my taste" she teased. Viola grunted and crossed her arms.

"Don't think I'm going to start calling you boss. Besides, bosses don't dress so…casually." the older woman replied. She had on a sweater dress similar to the one the girl downstairs had, except hers was a much more bleak color. The dark gray color did a lot for her curves, but it lacked color or any kind of expression. Liz rolled her eyes and sat down on Viola's plush cashmere sofa. She crossed her legs, making the keys in her pocket to jingle loudly. Viola sat down in the chair beside her and put her arms back into their previous position.

"I'll give you credit for getting up here this early, though." she continued.

"Whatever, I didn't sleep last night. Can't we just get this business shit done? I've gotta go meet up with Pierce."

Viola frowned. She suddenly wasn't expecting to make much progress during this meeting.

"Look, let's cut to the chase, this is intel, not business. I've got something for you that might give you the opportunity you need to get Killbane." she said boldly. Liz raised an eyebrow.

"Keep talking." she said.

"He's going to be on a radio broadcast sometime this week. He mentioned something about it a while back. If you can get to him without blowing it, you might have a great opportunity ahead of you."

"So you're suggesting that I plan some sort of assassination attempt?" Liz asked jokingly. It wasn't something she wasn't familiar with. She closed her eyes for a moment and recalled the time she went after Dane Vogel with Johnny back in Stilwater. It hadn't gone as she had planned it all. In fact, she ended up crashing a plane into the Ultor tower.

"Yeah, what's wrong with that?" Viola answered. She was acting like it wasn't going to be a big undertaking.

"Besides," she continued. "Don't you kill people every day?"

Liz ignored the statement. "I need an exact time in place. If you think I'm getting my ass involved in shit like that without a plan you're crazy."

Viola drummed her fingers on the skirt of her wool dress. "That's the only problem; Killbane never gave an exact time or place. I called that Kinzie chick and told her to look out for details. She said she'd look into it."

Liz stood up and gave Viola a fierce look before pulling out her shades again. She hadn't been expecting something so vague from the former Morningstar, but it was better than nothing.

"Then I guess Kinzie will get back to me on that, won't she?" she asked. She stood up and made her way to the elevator.

"I gotta go; I've got things to do. Why don't you go run down to Safeword or something and be useful? I'm sure your clients would love if you would give them a personal visit." she persisted rudely. Viola shot up from her seat and strode over to Liz before she could reach the elevator. Being treated badly by Killbane had been bad enough, and it wasn't about to happen to her again. She grabbed Liz by the sleeve of her shirt and leaned into her slightly.

"If you think I'm your fucking slave in your little plan, you're wrong. I can go right back to the Morningstar any second, so I'm expecting respect from you. If you give me some I'll consider giving you some in return. Can't you be a rational businesswoman instead of an asshole?" Viola's tone had turned sour very quickly. Liz snatched her arm back, and, as much as she hated to admit it, Viola was right.

"Respect is something you earn from me, and if you think I actually forgive you for what happened to Johnny, you're dead wrong." the Boss said seriously. Viola scoffed and went back into the depths of her posh penthouse.

"Call me when you're done acting like a baby." she hissed.

Liz chuckled and stepped into the doors of the elevator. She put on her glasses and gave Viola a sarcastic smile.

"Whatever you say, sweetie."

Johnny's phone vibrated in his pocket as he steadied his aim. He averted his gaze from the sight of his sniper and took his cell phone out and answered it.

"You in position Johnny?" a familiar voice asked.

The final pieces of the puzzle were all coming together. Shortly after the Brotherhood defeat party, the whole crew had came together to take down the last thing standing in their way. Ultor's control over Stilwater was increasing at a faster pace than the Saints would have liked. Instead of taking a much deserved break, the time for action had been now.

Too much shit had happened that prompted the situation Gat was in currently. The Masako's nightclub assault on Liz, the Pyramid raid, the Ultor yacht explosion; they were all moves in their plan. She had told Johnny the other night that she had everything mapped out to a T. It was unlike her to not act spontaneously and actually plan out her actions, but this was a well thought out exception.

This plan led to where Johnny was now; on top of an apartment building with a sniper overlooking Dane Vogel's personal press conference. The Boss' arrangement was undoubtedly bold and risky, and one wrong move could get them both killed.

It was time to assassinate the new chairman of Ultor.

"Hell yeah, give that motherfucker what's coming to him." he replied. The conversation was brief after that, and after they hung up Johnny loaded the large gun promptly. He changed into a prone pose once again and resumed his duty as Liz's guardian angel.

The plan they had discussed appeared simple at first glance; Liz snuck in and tried to shoot the Ultor guys, and if she couldn't do it Johnny was to snipe Vogel in the head and clear out the rest of the guards so she could make a smooth getaway.

However, under its mask of simplicity, the plan was much more in depth. Saints were scattered around the press conference keeping a close eye on the Boss. Each one was armed with an SMG, and if something was to go wrong, they would also go after Vogel.

Johnny turned the gun so he could see the target's position. At least ten guards were surrounding him on a podium which was surrounded by a crowd of eager reporters. Civilians cheered in the background as he began to make his speech.

"Unfortunately, we cannot mourn the recent loss of our board of directors here at Ultor. It's a terrible thing, and we just don't have the luxury of being able to grieve. We've got a company to run and a city to improve, and to do that our corporate board has just named me the new chairman of the company. I'd like to personally reassure you that everything will remain as normal as possible, and the revitalization of Shivington has been approved by the gracious Monica Hughes."

Vogel's little rally was going on longer than expected. Gat shifted his gaze through the scope and looked at the Boss. Slowly but surely she was making her way to the podium. A minute later she was as close as she could get. While hiding behind a news van, she looked up at Gat and gave him a swift thumbs up. He nodded back although she couldn't see and turned the crosshairs of the scope onto the head of Dane Vogel.

Little did Johnny know that he was no longer alone on the rooftop. Small booted footsteps inched closer to him every second.

If he had looked behind him, he would have seen a very nervous looking Ultor security guard. The man had to be in his forties, and he was sweating a little too much. He knew exactly who he was dealing with, and the thought of being the one to arrest or even kill the famous Johnny Gat was exhilarating but nonetheless terrifying. Reports of a strange man on an apartment rooftop had been circling around the crowd, and the security team had been taking no risks. They were counting on him to eliminate the possible threat, and now could be his time to shine. He pushed his Ultor brand baseball cap further down onto his head and pounced onto the famous gangbanger.

The sound of a lone sniper bullet rang haphazardly through the crowd, and screams followed suit. Everyone was directing their emotions to the rooftop, where Johnny Gat was wrestling with the poor security guard. Liz bit down hard on her bottom lip and began to taste blood; sticking to the plan wasn't going to work anymore.

Another bullet sound rang out, and a foot collided with the chest of the guard. His body fell down from the tall building and landed on the ground with a sickening thud. The Boss breathed a sigh of relief and began improvising.

Security guards were quickly escorting Vogel away, making Liz's chance of getting him second to none. She fired her pistol as fast as she could, hitting random guards that were stepping in front of her. The disguised Saints soon emerged from outside the crowd, and more bullets rained down onto the guards. As soon as Liz had a spare second, she glimpsed to Johnny's position to see that he had reloaded and had reassumed his position as her protector.

Bullets grazed her side as she dived out of the way. The podium was the only thing saving her at the moment, and its wood structure was rapidly being torn away. Without looking up, she fired again and barely hit some of the guards. She prayed that Johnny would have her back like he always did.

The third sniper bullet went billowing down onto the stage, hitting a guard right in the chest. He cried out in pain and fell down. Liz smiled to herself and looked up. Only two guards remained, but Vogel was quickly making his way to the stretch limo waiting for him. The Boss scrambled up, and after a few more snipes, a clear path to Vogel was ten feet in front of her.

She lunged for his limo, and as he stepped in the two locked eyes when she was at the top of the stairs. Dane looked like a deer in headlights and closed the door to avoid looking at his assassin. The limo's engine began to rev, and just as it began to move Liz did the unthinkable.

She dove for the top of the limo, thinking that she could break the glass of the sunroof and climb in. As she soared through the air, Johnny watched with bated breath and stood up to get a better view of the scene.

After realizing who had latched into the roof, Vogel yelled at the limo driver to floor it. The vehicle soon swerved out of control, sending Liz down onto the curb and right into the bottom of a stop sign.

Liz stepped back into her car and began the short drive home to the HQ. When she had left early that morning, Pierce and Oleg were fast asleep on the couch. They had stayed up all night playing chess, much to everyone else's annoyance. The Saint pulled out her phone and dialed Pierce's number. If he was the same man he had always been he'd be in the same position she had left him in.

The phone rang five times before the lieutenant picked up. He sounded like he was either hit by a truck or completely hung over.

"Yeah Boss?" he asked lazily.

"Pierce, you think this whole STAG thing is going to compromise the HQ?" she asked. She could hear him groaning and trying to sit up.

"Uh, yeah, totally agree with you. I'll get on that." he mumbled.

"We should talk about this in person. Have you planned out anything yet?" she continued.


Liz sighed. "Alright, then what have you got for me?"

"Dunno…come to the HQ and we can talk there."

"Damn it, Pierce! I'll be over in a bit."