A D E N E Y,x L I E F.



"Hello? Um, bonjour? No, wait, um, Ciao?" The young lady mustered, before wriggling in frustration and shouting, "look, I don't know you guys!"
A rather distinguished looking memeber waved his hand at the young man who had brought the redhead in, not looking very interested. "You, Adeney, brought her in, didn't you? Be a gentleman and answer, since you know her best."
Adeney nodded obediently and smiled to the young woman in the chair.
"Ciao di nuovo, la mia bellezza poco. Si condivide la nostra lingua straniera?"* The fluent Italian rolled off his tongue smoothly as he spoke to her, but the girl showed no signs of understanding. Taking the hint, he swiftly changed languages.
"I'm sorry, I was under the impression you were fluent. Anyway, ma'am, I'm going to ask you to please stop struggling because it isn't doing you any good for your condition--we've still yet to treat your wounds. That is," he paused, throwing an uncertain look towards the older gentleman,
"after we finish the interrogation."
The other hooded figures in the room watched, uninterested and bored by the process they'd delivered and, like now, watched so many times. Not that interrogations were dull. Their mafia was allowed to injure the person being interrogated if they weren't getting results, but usually the certain individual took the hint before it even got to such an extreme, so the process was usually swift. It was terrifying, yes, but not for the people who'd seen it so many times. However, the same couldn't be said for the one being interrogated, as they were in a strange place without any way of escaping and, even if they could get through the armed men surrounding them, they'd find themselves lost under the tunnel of sewers (which was the only way they could get to and from the mafia's home).
"Miss, I need to know who you work for. I'm sorry, but if you're not going to give us an answer, we're going to have no other choice but to use force on you. You see, we men of the mafia are not entirely violent by nature, but, if we're not giving something we're asking politely for, we're going to get it through other means." Adeney's voice was soft, despite the menacing words he'd vocalized as he motioned his hand towards the young men behind him whose daggers were kept in plain view.
"I'm sorry."
The oldest fellow in the room, the apparent mentor who Adeney had continually glanced at for approval, spoke from his chair off to the side. "Yes, yes. Tell us, first, what your name is, girl. We'd like to know who you've been hired by, and what your intentions are, and who else you're targeting. We, like your assassin's business, are very alike. However, there are a select amount of noblemen we need alive for our own private purposes so it's to everybody's best interest that we know your intentions."
Adeney had a funny look on his face as he stayed silent, waiting for her answer. It wasn't very noticeable, but you could tell that it was exactly easy to see a cold, bleeding young woman tied up in a chair with nobody making an effort to help her. It remained blank, but his eyes didn't exactly match the more or less emotionless face. Trying to smother the feeling, he turned his face to his mentor, who continued looking, disinterested, at the flickering fire he was facing, not even fazed by the condition of the girl. He, in turn, swallowed his guilt and waited.
*
"Hello again, my little beauty. You share our foreign language?"