"Alright," the man starts as he pours her a glass of wine. "Let's get down to business, shall we?"

The man reaches across the table and hands Vienna a glass of the finest wine in New York.

"Give me the details."

Vienna sips her wine before going to the paper that sat on her thigh in front of her. She clears her throat.

"White male, in his early twenties. Lives in the center of New York City, at 420 maple way, apt 2. Despite how much he hates living there, it seems to be a pretty costly apartment. Brown hair, same color as his eyes-"

"What's his name?" The big man interrupts.

Vienna sighs. "You know his name.."

"I want to hear you say it."

Vienna takes a sip of her red wine that sat in front of her, just to fill the awkward silence.

"Dexter Lewis."

"Dexter.." The big man who calls himself Robert Wolf repeats.

"You know," Wolf starts, cupping his tattooed hands together. "Hear that the father is the one with a shit load of money. Once we get past that crumby juvenile of a kid we can find the father, get the money, and move on to our next victim."

"Haven't heard anything about his father." Vienna says quietly from across the table. "Dexter never says anything about him."

Wolf leans in. "Well then hon, maybe you should look into that."

"Wouldn't it be somewhat awkward if I were to come out and ask him about his parents?" She asks. Vienna isn't the strong, undefeated girl that Dexter knew when she was with Wolf. She was petrified by him.

"Isn't it already awkward that you're offering to pay his rent?" Wolf hisses, his dark eyes narrowing.

Vienna shifts in her seat. "I guess."

Wolf leans back in his chair and downs a shot. Vienna, on the other hand, decides on the classic cigarette.

They sit there.

It's silent.

"You never told me," Wolf starts, leaning in towards her once again. "What is this Dexter's line of work?"

"I'm not sure." She says. "I assume he's a type of photographer or sketch artist, at least that's what his art covered walls are telling me."

"Well would you look at that," Wolf chuckles to himself as he counts the money he has in his hands. He pulls their cigarette out of Vienna's red lips and puts it up to his own and takes a long drag before giving an evil, dirty smile.

"I guess you're both artists, of sorts."