Wilma is made by Crabymcpinchclaws/gordenfreemankinnie !!! I literally would have never heard of her before if it wasn't for them so a BIG THANKS to them for my new simping obsession ahSKDAJFHKD. Go follow them, check out their works, and send all the love!! <3<3<3

Without further ado, I hope you enjoy ;)

...

"A sister?" said Amy.

Abe nodded, and he carefully exhaled. "I know it's hard to believe," he said.

"How is this supposed to help us?" said Amy, waving at the screen. "So what if Warfstache has a sister?"

Abe pulled his eyes away from Wilma's profile and motioned towards Mark. "Like he said, we can't get any leads until we start thinking like these criminals," he said. "I know it's a stretch, but if we can try to talk to her—"

"No," said Amy, scoffing out a laugh. "What makes you think his sister will want to go against her own brother?" She glanced between the two, then pointed at Mark. "Warfstache had you tell us to stay out of this. We're already putting Mr. Edwards in danger by trying to find him." She shook her head. "If we go and confront his sister, he'll find out we're on to him."

Mark shifted on his feet and ran a hand over his mouth, his brows furrowed in thought.

"Why would her file be hidden, then?" said Mark, pointing at the screen. "For someone related to a mafia boss—someone who's big on family—don't you think her existence would've been public already?"

"Exactly," said Abe, standing up. He glanced at the other two. "The few times I spoke to Warfstache, he didn't mention anything about a sister. He always kept to that only-child perspective like you were saying, Fischbach."

"I'm pretty sure everything he told you was a lie," huffed Amy. "And besides, you two were talking about other things, weren't you?"

Abe's face went red, and he cleared his throat. "Don't—go there, Nelson," he spluttered.

Mark sent Amy a confused look, and she only rolled her eyes. She waved a hand at the screen.

"It'll be a risk," she said. "You need to find out if Wilma's associated with her brother." She rose her brows, sending a pointed look at Abe. "Because if she is, then Edwards is screwed."

Mark huffed at that, worry crossing his face. "All of this involves risk," he said. "Mr. Edwards could still be in danger even if the FBI didn't do anything." He ran a hand over his face. "Who knows if Warfstache actually keeps his sick promises or not."

"We have to try," said Abe, voice firm. "We'll tread with caution before we approach her, but we can't wait too long." A tension coiled in the air, cold and heavy, and Abe carefully exhaled.

"I found this file by cutting corners," he said. He looked at Mark, then at Amy, meeting their eyes. "Which means some other criminals could have found it, too."

"They might already be a few steps ahead of us," said Mark.

Abe nodded, and Amy huffed, dread coiling in her chest. They all shared glances—looks that knew the gravity of their next move. Of course there would be a risk—that's what their job was—but if it meant a small chance of saving Dark and, ultimately, catching Wilford, then it was worth it.

"We have to find her," said Abe, on edge. "Before someone else does."

———

Sunlight filtered through the glass walls of a jewelry store in Beverly Hills, casting its diamond-encrusted trinkets in a rich glint. Saleswomen stood behind the glittering display cases, tending to their wealthy customers.

The security was high, as expected. Guards in black suits lined the store; two men at the front, two in the back, and one walking down the glass-cased aisles of jewelry, his eyes sharp on the three customers in the shop.

Celine was one of the customers.

She watched another woman from across the store, nothing but interest in her eyes as she examined her every movement.

Confidence bled from the woman—from her posture and the way she carried herself, down to the way she dressed. A maroon, v-neck dress hugged the curves of her plus-sized figure, with stilettos to match, and her wavy brown hair fell perfectly around her round shoulders. Her red lips curled into a smile as she checked herself out in the mirror, running her hand along the necklace dipping down into her chest.

By the looks of it, she didn't look like the woman that spoke to her on the phone yesterday night. The anonymous caller she'd spoken with was anxious and timid; unsure of what she wanted. And although the other customer in the store fit that profile, her voice didn't match.

But the other woman's did.

Celine ran her fingers along the long aisles of display cases, keeping the other woman in the corner of her eye. Now that she looked closer, the woman was just as alert as her, but she hid it behind her airy laugh and dazzling smile.

The only-walking guard passed the woman from behind, and something shifted in her posture. Something that would go unnoticed to any civilian, but not to a well-practiced villain like Celine.

The woman tipped her chin up to the mirror in front of her and sighed with delight.

"Well?" said the saleswoman tending to her—an old, grey-haired lady named Agnes. "Are you finding it to your liking, Miss Barnum?"

Barnum... thought Celine, trying to eavesdrop on every little detail of the woman. She lingered by a set of rings and pretended to look at them.

"Oh, yes," said the woman.

Wilma Barnum let out a hum as she ran her gold-painted nails along the jewelry around her neck, eyes taking in the sight of it. It was a heavy, diamond necklace, which dipped down her collarbones and rested at her cleavage. The expensive gems glittered like stars under the sunlight, and boy, did she desire to add this to her collection.

Wilma pulled her gaze from the mirror, and she smiled, her eyes glinting with a mischievous interest.

"You don't mind if I keep this on while I continue shopping... do you, Mrs. Smith?" Her lashes fluttered. "I want to make sure it's truly suitable for me." She smiled—a dazzling thing that seemed to loosen the saleswoman's guard—and leaned forward. "You know how picky a girl can be with her diamonds."

Agnes chuckled, and she nodded. "Of course, Miss Barnum," she said. "What else are you interested in?"

Wilma carefully looked around the store, and her eyes landed—not on the display case of diamond and pearl rings—but on the woman that stood beside them. Her heart flipped at the sight of Celine, stunned by her enigmatic presence, and the way her black dress dripped down her willowy body like silk. Interest coiled through her by the second.

"I have been interested in some new rings lately," she lied, pulling her gaze away from the woman.

Agnes circled around the display case and walked behind the aisle of rings, keeping Wilma in her gaze.

"Do you have anything specific you're looking for?"

Wilma carefully walked forward, her stilettos clicking against the marble floors. She brushed past Celine and hummed, running her eyes along the endless display of rings.

"No, not yet," she mused. She glanced up at the saleswoman and smiled at her. "Could I have a moment to look on my own?"

Agnes' guard loosened again at her smile, and she nodded. "Of course," she said. "Call me if you need me."

And she walked off to another customer.

Wilma took a deep breath, and she glanced out the corner of her eye, taking in the sight of Celine. One of the guards walked behind them—eyes running over them—but she didn't mind, at the moment. Her current interest was this mysteriously beautiful woman.

She glanced down at one of the rings Celine was looking at and hummed. It was made of black diamonds.

"That would suit you," said Wilma, stepping closer.

Celine straightened herself, almost surprised at the confrontation. The woman's voice matched the one on the phone's perfectly. She was certain, now that she heard it up close.

She carefully turned her head towards Wilma, and when their eyes met, everything seemed to fade into a blur of glitter and gold. Something deep pulled in Celine's belly at the sight of Wilma—the supple curve of her face, the rosiness of her cheeks, the plumpness of her lips... and then her eyes. They were green like emeralds.

Celine sucked in a breath, and her black lips curled up into a smile.

"You really think so?" she said, playing along. She didn't even remember what ring she was pretending to look at.

Wilma smiled—a gesture that seemed to make even Celine's stomach flutter with butterflies—and she stepped closer, leaning over the display case to look at the row of black rings. Her eyes landed on that curled into the form of a snake, and she pointed at it.

"That one would look perfect," she said. She turned towards Celine and ran her eyes down her figure with a hum, making sure it was obvious she was checking her out. "It'd match your dress, too."

Celine smiled, an excited thrill racing up her spine. She hadn't been hit on for a long time. She'd almost forgotten how much she enjoyed it.

"I should get it, then," she said. She glanced down the display case of rings and motioned towards it. "What kind of ring are you looking for?"

Wilma smiled, gazing at Celine through half-lidded eyes, before slowly pacing down the aisle, gazing down at the rings. Celine followed.

"To be honest, I was more interested in you," she said, meeting Celine's eyes with a flutter of her lashes. Celine's smile widened at that. "But, a girl can never have too much jewelry."

She stopped by a row of thick, diamond rings—ones that anyone could spot on a woman's finger from a mile away. Her eyes glittered with hunger at the sight of them.

"Which one do you think would match my necklace?"

Wilma pulled her hair back, and she pushed out her chest, gazing at Celine through half-lidded eyes. The gesture would seem innocent to an outsider, but Celine knew what she was doing. She hummed with a smirk and glanced down at the diamond necklace resting along her breasts.

"Well, let's see..." she breathed. She pulled her gaze away from Wilma's chest and glanced at the rings, eyes landing on the biggest one in the center. She pointed at it. "How about that one?"

Wilma smiled, and she glanced at Celine for a moment, something in her presence shifting again. She looked around the store, met eyes with Agnes the saleswoman, and waved her over.

"I'd like to see this one, please," she said when Agnes stood behind the display case. The saleswoman nodded with a smile, and she pulled out a set of keys, the metal clinking and glinting under the lights.

Celine glanced at Wilma through the corner of her eye and noticed that look in her eye.

Ohh... she wasn't just interested in these jewels, realized Celine.

She wanted to steal them.

Elation rose in her chest, and she smiled, her interest growing for the woman. She was nothing like the anxious caller she'd encountered.

Agnes slid open the display case door and carefully pulled out the large diamond ring, but before she could set it on top of the glass, Wilma pointed at a few other rings she was also interested in. By the time she was done, there were five different rings set upon the glass.

Celine watched her work with eager eyes.

"Tell me about this one," said Wilma, slipping on the ring with the biggest diamond.

Agnes smiled, and she glanced down at the ring, pointing at its finest qualities. She went on about its carat, color, and price, and as she went along to describe each ring in detail, Wilma worked with experienced hands. Even Celine nearly missed the exchange, but at one point, Wilma had switched two of the rings for lookalikes that she already had on her fingers.

Agnes was too distracted to notice. She even put away the rings that had been stolen—now replaced with cheaper lookalikes—back into the display case.

Celine was, to be frank, in awe. As Wilma worked her magic, Celine began to see how the woman knew Wilford personally. She was the perfect balance of dazzling, blinding beauty and foul trickery. Why she wanted the man dead, she didn't know, but she would find out with time.

By the time Agnes showed Wilma all the rings, half of them had been stolen.

"Ohh, I'm just so indecisive," Wilma sang, putting on the large-diamond ring on again. She tipped her hand and flashed her stolen rings, and Agnes gazed down at her fingers without a clue. Celine kept watching.

"I think this one would be the best choice for you," said Agnes, smiling at the ring. "We have many other options, if you're still unsure."

Wilma hummed, and she considered the ring on her finger. The diamond glinted with her every movement, boasting its wealth. Interest shown clear in her eyes, and Celine knew she was set on stealing that one, too. It wouldn't be as easy as the other ones, though.

"I think I'll go with this one," said Wilma, flashing another dazzling smile. She looked down at the other rings on the glass. "I might get one of these, too, though..."

"That's perfectly alright, Miss Barnum," said Agnes politely. "Take your time."

Wilma smiled, and her gaze flicked onto the bodyguard that walked around the store. He was making another lap around the glass aisles, and he was nearing them again.

Her eyes glittered with opportunity.

She glanced at Celine, took a step back, and smiled, lashes fluttering. "Do you think you could help me decide?" she said, voice sickly sweet. "I'm stuck on these two..."

She pointed at two of the rings, and Celine considered her a moment, wondering what she was planning next. She wished she had Blank's intuition for patterns now; he would've been able to predict the motive behind her request. It was only then when it happened that she realized her intentions.

It happened so effortlessly.

Wilma's heel caught in Celine's dress, and as she stepped forward, she tripped, tumbling forward.

The guard walked by them at the perfect time. Wilma faked a gasp, sidestepped, and Celine fell into the man.

They fell to the floor in a shout.

Wilma knocked back into the display case, and the rings fell to the floor.

Agnes put her hands to her mouth. The other guards rushed towards the scene. The other customer asked if everything was okay.

Wilma slipped the big-diamond ring on her finger, acted worried a moment longer—and when she was confident everyone was distracted, she turned on her heel, opened the glass doors, and walked out of the store.

Sirens flooded the air by the time she got to cover.

———

After Celine escaped that godawful mess, she tracked Wilma using her phone and found her dining on an outdoor patio.

It was completely reckless for her to keep herself in the public eye, especially after her stunt that now had the police looking for her, but it was also so... daring. Celine had to admit that, despite her amateur moves, Wilma Barnum was an absolute wildcard that did what she wanted, when she wanted. And no legal system would get in the way of that.

No wonder she knew Wilford Warfstache.

Celine made sure her surroundings were clear before approaching the woman from behind.

The sun beared down on her as she walked past chairs and umbrella-clad tables, and the cacophony of the city washed out the click of her heels against the concrete. Wilma wasn't even aware of her presence—another amateur move.

Celine hummed, ran a finger along Wilma's shoulders, then circled around her table to face her. Wilma jumped, brows raising beneath her Gucci sunglasses.

"Hello, Miss Barnum," said Celine, her voice a low, dangerous melody.

Wilma carefully lowered her shades, and she set them on the table beside her plate of chocolate cake.

"Oh," she said quietly, smiling. "It's you."

Celine smirked, and she pulled out a chair, sitting across from her. She settled herself in her seat and leaned forward, elbows against the table.

"That was quite the steal," she said, eyes flicking down to Wilma's breasts. The thick, diamond necklace was still there, the jewels on full display. They glittered so much brighter outside.

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Wilma with a smirk, knowing full-well that Celine knew she was lying. She tilted her head, and she squinted her eyes at the other woman. "How did you find me, anyway?"

Celine hummed, and she leaned back in her seat and crossed her legs, her eyes going half-lidded.

"I don't think I've introduced myself," she said, her gaze burning into Wilma's. "I'm Celine Larose." She rose a thin brow. "The hitwoman you hired."

Wilma paled, and for the first time, Celine caught a glimpse of that anxious woman she heard on the call.

"W-what?" she breathed, eyes wide.

Celine hummed, and she glanced down at her nails, feigning interest in them. "I pride myself on maintaining the anonymity of my callers, Miss Barnum," she said. "But, you do have to understand that when you brought up Wilford Warfstache's name... Well, I just had to give into my curiosity."

Wilma swallowed, and she pushed her plate forward, her appetite clearly lost. "That's... this is none of your business," she said, voice wavering. "I hired you for his location and that's it."

Celine rested her chin in the palm of her hand and gazed at Wilma through her lashes. The woman's cheeks reddened at her intensity.

"How do you know Wilford?" she inquired.

"I just told you, this is none of your—"

"If you don't tell me," said Celine, "then I won't help you." She rose a brow at her, and her lips curled up into a sly smirk. "Consider this your payment. Just tell me what you know, and I'll keep looking for you."

"I think I'd rather pay you," Wilma said under her breath.

"This is the only payment I'll accept," said Celine. She sat up straight and vaguely waved a hand. "Now... tell me," she said. "How do you know Warfstache?"

Wilma took a deep breath, and she glanced aside, fidgeting with her newly-stolen rings.

"I'm..." She grimaced. "I just—know him."

"What were you, his girlfriend or something?"

"Oh my god, no, that's disgusting," Wilma gagged. Celine rose a brow at her strong reaction and tilted her head.

"What are you to him, then?" she asked.

Wilma's brows furrowed, expression twisted into a glimmer of helplessness, and when she studied Celine's face, she realized she wouldn't give this up. She could get up and leave—say that she didn't want Celine's help anymore and search for Wilford herself—but she knew that if started asking around, especially in Los Angeles, where her brother was based, then she was sure to raise a commotion. It would only make finding him more difficult.

Wilma took a deep breath, and she sighed, slumping in her chair. Her fingers tightened over her rings.

"I..." She glanced aside. "I'm his sister."

It was Celine's turn to be stunned.

Her eyes widened, lashes fluttered, and she stilled in her seat, staring at Wilma.

"What?" she breathed.

Wilma huffed, and she shook her head. "You know, I feel so loved when people are so clueless when I tell them that," she said, voice wavering. She scoffed out a laugh. "Just—love how proud my brother is of me that he'd... say nothing about me."

She sniffed, and she turned her eyes up to the sky, trying not to let the wateriness of her eyes ruin her makeup. Celine watched with her lips parted.

"I... heard rumors that Wilford had a brother, but... not you." Her mind whirred, caught between wanting to get to know Wilma better or hating her simply because she was a Warfstache. "How could anyone have kept someone as beautiful as you a secret?"

Wilma laughed at that, and she pat the corners of her eyes with her fingers. "I—I used to be that brother," she said. "But that's not who I am anymore. I'm Wilma. Barnum. Not Warfstache."

She closed her eyes and huffed, and as she collected herself again, Celine tilted her head, her curiosity having grown tenfold.

"Why do you want to kill your own brother?" said Celine.

Wilma opened her eyes, and she stared at Celine, gaze unbreaking. Something twisted beneath the emerald glint of her eyes—something that Celine understood. It reminded her of herself when she killed her husband.

It was hate, held back by the unforgiving hands of a fucked up love.

Wilma leaned forward, and shadows crossed her face.

"Because he abandoned me," she said quietly. "And I want to make him pay for it."

Celine carefully inhaled, and she searched Wilma's gaze, the space between them growing with heat. Fate seemed to, once again, be on her side, and she couldn't help but smile.

"Why don't we work together, Wilma?" she breathed, gaze alight. Wilma blinked at the offer, surprised. "I want Warfstache dead, just as much as you. I have the resources and the power to find him, and you have the most intimate details on him that can help me take him down."

Wilma hummed, and her eyes narrowed. "I'm going to be the one to kill him," she said.

"And I won't take that away from you," said Celine, tipping her chin up. "But why don't we have a little fun before you bring him to the ground? I've already had a few tastes of what it's like to ruin his reputation."

Wilma's brows rose at that, realization crossing her features. "You're the ones behind the articles," she said.

Celine smiled, and she nodded. "I have a whole team behind it all," she said.

"That's how I knew he was still active," said Wilma, voice falling quiet. "Without your articles, I... never would've tried finding him again."

Celine hummed, and she gazed at Wilma through half-lidded eyes, satisfaction thrumming in her chest. "And I can be of greater help," she said, "if we help each other."

"Okay," said Wilma, and Celine rose a brow at the curtness of her answer. "I'll do it. I'll work with you."

Celine's black lips curled into a smile, and she offered her hand. Wilma shook it.

"It's a deal, then," she said.

...

Thank you so much for reading, and have a wonderful day!

Love, Vic xoxo