The Victorious and the Relentless

Episode 17: “Vittoria’s Secret”

TRISTAN AND VITTORIA’S APARTMENT, WEST HOLLYWOOD, MONDAY MORNING

Vittoria could usually tell the ultimate nature of her day by the way her mornings went. She had gone to bed Sunday night still chuckling over the near catfight between Heath and Bralen. She did, however, take a moment of silence when she learned of Callum’s personal ordeal. Family was a precious thing to her. La mia famiglia! She had cried herself to sleep, praying for the safety of Callum’s child as well as that of all her loved ones.

When she had awakened on Monday, she found that Tristan hadn’t come home. Heath had fallen asleep on the living room couch, most likely waiting for him when slumber overtook him. There was a knock at the door, and upon opening it, she wished she hadn’t. The tall man standing in the doorway gave off a vibe Vittoria knew all too well. He was a cop! What now? She thought.

Milton: Good morning, Ms. Morelli. I’m Detective Milton, and I was hoping to have a word with you.

Vittoria: About what, Detective?

Milton: About your ties to Ms. Chloe Dalton.

Vittoria (panicking): Look, I’ve been exonerated of those charges.

Milton (laughing): Exonerated, eh? Ms. Morelli, you haven’t even—

Vittoria (cutting him off): Look, my attorney told me that you guys had spoken to an eyewitness who said it was a man that shot at her.

Milton: That’s true, and we’re following up on that lead.

Vittoria: So why the hell are you here?

Milton: Look, Ms. Morelli, I’m not here because of Ms. Dalton’s attack. I’m here because of Ms. Dalton’s claim that you sold drugs to Justin Roberts. The investigation into his “disappearance” is still ongoing.

Vittoria (anxiety sweeping over her as she turns away from him): Look, it’s her word against mine. Besides, Kyle already interrogated me.

Milton: Well, I’ve replaced Detective Walgrove on this case, and unlike him, I’m leaving no stone unturned.

Vittoria: What’s that supposed to mean?

Milton: For starters, Kyle—for some odd reason—thought you were the real culprit in spite of lack of evidence, but you do have a compelling motive for wanting to harm Ms. Dalton if these claims are proven correct. Nevertheless, you have been busted in the past for selling illegal drugs.

Vittoria: Well, I’m not doing that anymore.

Milton: I met with Ms. Dalton last night (reading the sudden jolt of guilt writhing through Vittoria’s body), but she wasn’t able to confirm anything, but I will be following up.

Vittoria: That’s it, Detective! I’m sock of this badgering. I’m calling my attorney Estrella Tartaro.

Milton (backing off): Okay… Okay. I just want you to know I’ll be watching you.

Vittoria (slamming the door in his face): Bye, Detective!

Whew! What the hell was that about? This new guy means business. What did that dyke really tell him? She’s starting to get on my nerves again. I need to speak with Estrella. Damn it! She’s not answering her phone. I’ve got to find her. I thought I had dodged this bullet. There are only two people alive that can testify against me: Chloe and Justin. If Estrella can’t get me out of this mess, I’ll have to take care of them both!

CALLUM’S HOME, HOLLYCOVE ESTATES, MONDAY AFTERNOON

Peyton had arrived at Callum’s home early mid-afternoon. The press had still been congregated outside as he made his way onto the property. Godfrey led him into the reception area. He uncharacteristically declined a drink. Callum came into the room, looking absolutely awful.

Peyton: Any updates?

Callum: No, the police are doing all they can.

Peyton: Any word of a ransom?

Callum (lying): No, nothing of the sort.

Peyton: I’m really sorry about running out on you like I did yesterday. You just can’t tell someone news like that and expect them to take it calmly.

Callum: Just so you know, I’m not expecting you to do anything for him once he’s returned. You’re in the clear as far as that’s concerned—

Peyton: You’re passing him off as your late husband’s and you don’t want your in-laws to know.

Callum (hesitantly): Should I dignify that with an answer? (pause) What the hell, it may be too late for that. I was on the local news, making a plea for his return. Lord knows if it’s managed to cross the pond yet and alert them.

Peyton: I-I really don’t understand all this, but how is he mine? I know this isn’t the right time to discuss it, but—

Callum: You know how delirious I was. All the time we had sex, I thought you were Gavin.

Peyton: You called out his name a few times.

Callum: And you kept right on shagging me. As unethically as it was, I took your semen anywhere you left it, whether it was on my body… inside the condom… you didn’t even take note of the times when I spat out your fluids. At any rate, I had the surrogate readily available for the insemination, thinking it was Gavin’s sperm. I had wanted “his child” so badly as a reminder of him. (pause) And now an innocent baby’s life is at stake. This is all my fault (breaking down emotionally)

Peyton (taking Callum’s hand): As strange as it sounds, I want you to know I’m here for you.

Callum: Thanks, Peyton. I need I all the support I can get right now. Nathan has already been such a tower of strength for me.

Peyton: You obviously haven’t heard the news, but I just got it on my Blackberry. The Hollycove Tribune’s online news site just reported that Nathan has been accused of child molestation.

Callum (incredulously): What! By whom?

Peyton: By none other than our resident thief Justin Roberts.

Callum: Bloody hell!

Peyton (his cell phone suddenly ringing): I have to take this. Hold on sec, Callum. (pause) I’m really sorry, but I have to go. It’s very urgent. One of my suicidal patients is attempting—

Callum (raising his hand): Say no more. I’ll let you know if anything happens. Thank you again for your concern.

Immediately after Peyton left, Godfrey entered from the side door, a look of anxiety upon his face.

Godfrey: I must confess I overheard the majority of your talk with Dr. Ashland. Did you tell him about the child’s paternity?

Callum: I told him yesterday. I know you had wanted me to tell him much earlier… perhaps it would have prevented this catastrophe.

Godfrey: He does have a right to know. (pause) I was hoping to have another look at that ransom note.

Callum: Why? Everything is almost in place for the trade. I’ll have the money soon. You’re not talking me out of this. I need this to run smoothly, Godfrey.

Godfrey (being given the note): There just seems something odd about this letter, the way it’s written and worded.

At that moment Callum received a phone call and upon answering and listening to it, his face blanched with the startling news. Godfrey noticed, and when the call was terminated, he naturally did his inquiry.

Godfrey: What has you so shaken?

Callum: That was the second disturbing call I’ve received from London in two days, although this one is more clarifying. It appears some woman went into Armitage & Burnham, demanding to speak with a member of the family, regarding me!

Godfrey: Oh, my God! Did she--?

Callum: Security turned her away, but I can give you three guesses who it was. The one and only crucial hint is that she’s American. (pause) I can’t be bothered with her right now. After Edward is returned, I’ll handle Allison and her meddling ways.

Godfrey: You indicated this as the second disturbing call you’ve received? What about the other one?

I’ve already told him about half of it or rather the details of it, but I can’t tell him who left that message.

Callum: Never mind that, Godfrey. I’ll handle it myself.

Godfrey: And what about this Rodrigo? I’m not sure what to make of him. You said it was he who found the ransom note.

Callum: I know what you’re thinking, but I’m positive that he has nothing to do with Edward’s abduction. I specifically saw him running in the race, and Edward was still with me. He only went missing a few minutes later, and Rodrigo would not have had time to kidnap him.

Godfrey: Okay, but I don’t trust him, Your Lordship. Anyway, I’m going to review this note. Summon me if you need anything.

Callum: Thank you.

Once Godfrey stepped out the room, Callum received another phone call—only this time he knew it had to be the kidnapper making contact with him. The creepy, distorted voice only proved it.

ESTRELLA’S HOME, BEVERLY HILLS

Estrella felt sick to her stomach. Tristan had left on an important errand, leaving her with Chloe and the baby, both of whom were in the other room. She didn’t like this scam. It was very unnerving. She knew kidnapping was a felony, and she could be tried as an accessory if they were caught. Paranoia slowly stole over her. What if they somehow trace the kidnapping back to me? What if Tristan wants to get back at me for making him fuck me the other day? He could call the cops at any time and send them right over here!

There then came a knock at the door at precisely that junction in her thoughts. Estrella silently jumped—nearly out of her own flesh. What if that’s the cops? I need to quickly get rid of them or whoever it is. She gingerly opened the door to a very flustered Vittoria, who barged right inside.

Vittoria: Why the hell haven’t you been answering your phone?

Estrella: Vittoria, what’s wrong?

Vittoria: You fucking said I was out of the woods. A new cop came by a while ago, asking me questions about that bitch.

Estrella: Calm down. Now who was this?

Vittoria (shouting): His name was Milton. He’s worse than Kyle. He’s out to get me!

The baby began crying in the other room, and Estrella prayed that Vittoria didn’t hear him over her own loud voice. Unfortunately for her, Chloe came into the room, holding the baby.

Chloe: Estrella, what’s wrong? I heard shouting. I think it’s upset Jacob.

Vittoria: What the fuck is she doing here?

Chloe (cradling the head of the baby): Estrella, who is this?

Vittoria (to Estrella): You know her personally? You’re not trying anything funny, are you? Like getting her to testify against me!

Chloe: I’m going to the other room. I think he needs changing again.

Estrella (rushing up to Vittoria): I know what this looks like, but I can explain. I had nothing to do with her taking that baby.

Vittoria (suddenly dawning on her): Dio Mio! That’s Callum’s kidnapped son. What the hell is she doing with him? And what is she doing here?

Estrella: Ask your roommate.

Vittoria: Tristan? What’s he got to do with this?

Estrella: He thinks he can pull the wool over Callum’s eyes. He’s asking for a ransom.

Vittoria: What the hell is he thinking?

Estrella: She arrived at my doorstep this past evening, asking for help.

Vittoria: Well, I need your help now! We have to take care of both her and Justin.

Estrella: Look, I have enough on my plate right now. Besides, do you really think anyone’s going to believe anything that comes out of Chloe’s mouth? She’s two tits short of a breast augmentation.

She does have a point. Chloe’s credibility is very weak right now, given her emotional state. I have a good basis to challenge her on those grounds. That’s one down and one more to go. That only leaves Justin, and I can easily take care of him. Vittoria turned on her heels and headed for the door, not even hearing Estrella’s admonishment to “pretend” she hadn’t seen anything in the last five minutes.

STREETS OF WEST HOLLYWOOD

Local online news was afire with the allegations against Nathan, but it was also the email from Austin announcing his intent to depose the current Exec Board that set club gossip ablaze. Bralen had just finished working out at the gym when he came across Drake, immediately asking him about what was with his partner’s incendiary email.

Bralen: I can’t believe he’s going through with this. I mean there are some club members who are dismayed with the current leadership, but I thought they were in the minority.

Drake: Please understand it’s not a direct attack on anyone. Order just needs to be reestablished.

Bralen (taken aback): Order? It’s not like the club has descended into chaos.

Drake: Well, Austin feels it has, and he claims he has proof. And he’s already received some encouraging feedback that he should move forward with the recall.

Bralen: Do you think he’ll get enough signatures?

Drake: What’s the worst that could happen if he does?

Bralen: Mutiny! I don’t want the club to be divided. I—excuse me, Drake. I see Tristan across the street, and I really need to speak with him.

Drake: Well, it was nice talking with you. I guess I know where you stand so I’ll refrain from requesting your signature on the petition.

By that point, Bralen had jaywalked across the street, nearly getting hit by a car in his haste to catch Tristan. Oh, well, thought Drake, I’m sure there are many others who’ll gladly sign the petition. Oh shit! There goes Callum’s weird bodyguard going into that shop across the street. But where is Callum? Maybe the guy’s just on his lunch break. Even though I can’t stand Callum, my heart goes out to him. I had better scout more member signatures.

Bralen (to Tristan): Where have you been?

Tristan (caught offguard): I’ve been busy.

Bralen: I came by your place last night and found Heath there. He claims that you’re with him now. Is there something you’re not telling me?

Tristan (feeling cornered): Uh, no. I don’t know what he’s talking about.

Bralen (pulling him in for a kiss): Why is he there?

Tristan: He and Kyle had a tiff, and he needed someplace to stay the night. I’m sure they’ll get back together.

Bralen: We need to get together now. I don’t know what’s come over me, but I’m feeling so horny.

Tristan (eyes suddenly alit): Oh really? Friday night wasn’t enough for you? Between Peyton and me, we didn’t think you’d be able to walk or talk for a few days—much less rush across a busy street to see me.

Nine Inch Nails’“Head like a Hole” begins playing when Bralen grabs Tristan’s arms and leads him around the corner of the building and into the secluded alley. Once they felt safe, Bralen dropped to his knees.

His hands automatically went for the zipper on Tristan’s pants, pulling it down and yanking out his cock before eagerly latching his mouth upon it. Even in its non-erect state, it was a thing of both infinite beauty and bounty, and Bralen began worshiping it with a ravenous hunger, spurred on by the sexual fire that had seeped through his body. Though he knew not where it had come, he gave himself over to this overwhelming horniness that drove him to deep-throat Tristan’s hardness right there in broad daylight. The tip of his nose brushed against Tristan’s pubes as the top of his tongue feverishly swept the underside of Tristan’s manhood.

Tristan: Oh yeah, that’s a good boy.

Tristan’s hand gently caressed the side of Bralen’s face, feeling the lump of his cock as it poked into Bralen’s cheek. He hardly came off it for breath, instead choosing to savor the taste of Tristan’s hardness as if it were essential nourishment. Man, he really is horny! I can’t complain, but this is a bit risky in this alley. WeHo has cracked down on public sex in recent years…ohh, damn! Bralen slurped at excess saliva spilling from his mouth before his left hand grasped the shaft and jerked it enthusiastically. Tristan could see that the head of his cock glistened in the sunshine from Bralen’s oral skills. Another ten minutes passed before Tristan finally released his masculine warmth. Bralen then looked seductively up into Tristan’s eyes, communicating with him for a sign of possible reciprocity. He was instantly shot down as Tristan quickly told him that he had somewhere else to be within the next fifteen minutes and wouldn’t have time to fully give his oral attention to Bralen, who upon hearing this news felt saddened with the prospect of masturbation for sexual relief.

Rodrigo had watched the whole scene unfold, having followed Tristan because he had recognized him from his “street days” last year. He had hoped to pay for Tristan’s services once again, but Bralen beat him to the punch. Hey, I don’t see any exchange of money taking place. What gives? He saw Bralen wipe the sides of his mouth, rise from his knees, and leave. Rodrigo then casually walked over and followed Tristan farther down the alley, and then saw him turn up a street to stop at a payphone. He entered the coinage, dialed the numbers, and then withdrew some device which he put to his mouth and began speaking through it. Rodrigo recognized it as a voice disguiser. What is he up to?

His curiosity getting the best of him, Rodrigo darted as close to him as possible without betraying his eavesdropping, and it was then that he heard Tristan say “Callum.” That’s definitely not a common name in America. Why was he placing a call from a payphone to Callum? And if so, why is he using a voice disguiser? Having asked himself those questions and giving it a split second of thought, he naturally figured out the answer.

KYLE WALGROVE’S HOME, WEST HOLLYWOOD

Heath stood outside his old home, hesitant to enter as Kyle’s car was parked outside. He had come to get the rest of his clothing, tired of wearing Tristan’s skintight garments. He put the key into the lock, turned the knob, and entered the house, his heart nearly leaping from his chest when he saw Kyle sitting in the chair in the exact same position as when he had last come into the house prior to their explosive breakup.

Heath: I-I just came for the rest of my stuff.

Kyle: You left it out on the lawn and didn’t come back for it so I donated it all to Goodwill and the Salvation Army.

Heath (angrily): You what? (calming down, not wanting to start anything) Never mind. I knew this was a bad idea.

Kyle: What was? Your affair with Tristan or coming here?

Heath (grasping the door knob): Just fuck off, Kyle!

Kyle (having risen in a split second and thrown himself between Heath and the door): Don’t go.

Heath (seeing him for the first time as he’s now out the darkness): Jesus, Kyle! You look awful.

Kyle: I feel awful, Heath… about everything. I just can’t believe that-that—

Heath (finishing for him): It’s over between us.

Kyle: Is it?

Butterfly Boucher’s “I Can’t Make Me Love You” begins playing over the rest of the scene as Kyle’s question lingers in the air. Heath moves away from Kyle, seeing the dreaded photo album on the table, opened to moments of bliss between them. Heath couldn’t resist cracking a smile.

Kyle (sniffling): You know I’ve given it some thought, and I was the one in the wrong. I really should have been there more for you.

Heath: So what are you saying? That you’ve forgiven me?

Kyle (closing the distance between them): I still love you, Heath. Not having you in this house these last few days has left a void in my life.

Heath: Really? (pause) Well, now you know how I felt.

Kyle: Please say it’s not too late for us. (leaning into Heath, attempting a kiss but Heath steps back)

Heath: You didn’t answer my question. Have you forgiven me? (long deadly silence) Well, that settles it for me. I’m happy right now, Kyle, just where I’m at.

Kyle: With him?

Heath: Don’t bring Tristan into this.

Kyle: You brought him into our house!

Heath: I’m not going through this again. I’ll be back for the rest of my stuff—the TV, stereo, DVD player—when you’re not here.

Kyle (emotional crack in his voice): Don’t go! I still love you.

Heath: But I don’t love you… anymore. Goodbye, Kyle.

The door slamming shut shook Kyle’s heart. He went back to the reclining chair and attempted to rest. He was soon pissed off to discover that he had gone through all the alcohol in the house.

NATHAN MOYNIHAN’S HOME, HOLLYCOVE ESTATES

Nathan tried to reach Brendon, but he was not taking any calls. Aside from the fiasco with Justin, he needed to confer with him about the disastrous email that was quickly pervading the inboxes of all Outrunners members. What the hell is Austin thinking? It’s bad enough I have both Justin and Brendon attacking me, but to have this time of dissension only adds to the constant worry. Damn it! He had come home for lunch and was met with the media outside which he had foolishly thought was just spill over from Callum’s property. He had brushed past them on the way into his own home. New surely does travel fast in this technological age! None of the print newspapers would have the story until tomorrow. Damn you, Justin! I’ve got to stop this before it gets really out of control.

It was then that he got the dreaded phone call from the Trustees of Hollycove Prep, asking for an explanation which he could not honestly give at that moment. The consequent message had been both simple and sincere. Owing to the wealthy clientele of the academy, such news would naturally be seen as detrimental to the long term reputation of the institution. Therefore, it had been deemed best for Nathan to be on “paid leave” and the official press release would declare he would be taking an extended holiday until further notice. What the hell is wrong with my life? Brendon’s giving me the cold shoulder. Justin has it in for me. Austin wishes to remove him. There’s no one in my court. I can’t even reach Allison, who’s not returning my damn phone calls. Where is she?

Damien Rice’s “9 Crimes” begins playing softly in the background. As alienation swept over him, the stifling sensation made him think of the one person to whom he may be able to turn. I should go check on him. He’ll need me. Opening the door and stepping out, he attempted to dart over to Callum’s place, knowing it was futile. The swarms of media had seemingly increased outside his door, ready to pounce on him with numerous questions. He had cameras and microphones shoved at him as he held his head low, and his hands brushed away these nagging pests.

Once he reached the street, he broke into a sprint, clearly outrunning them, but he was met with a different crowd of media as he neared Callum’s home. He managed to successfully make it into the house, Godfrey his temporary savior.

Nathan: Thank you, Godfrey.

Callum (coming into the room as Godfrey exits): Nathan, what brings you here? I figured you had your own slate of problems to deal with.

Nathan: So you’ve heard?

Callum: Peyton told me.

Nathan (throwing his hands up): I don’t know what to do. Brendon’s not talking to me.

Callum: Surely he doesn’t believe such rubbish.

Nathan: You would think that after being with someone for over twelve years, you’d know when a lie is being told about him.

Callum: For what it’s worth, you know I could never—

Nathan: I know. The irony is that you didn’t give it a moment’s thought—unlike Brendon. You don’t know how much I appreciate that. (pause) In the short time I’ve come to know you, you’ve always put me at ease. I had no one else to turn to.

Callum (suppressing the urge to grin): So you came here of all places?

Nathan (moving closer to him): I don’t know why, but I needed to be here for you.

Callum (looking deeply into his eyes): Nathan, now’s not the time for—

Nathan suddenly pulled Callum towards him for an unexpected passionate kiss. Callum gave into the warmth of it, and Nathan pressed his mouth more ardently upon Callum’s, the heat of the moment astounding his beleaguered conscience. I should be making Edward my main concern right now. Callum tried to pull away, but Nathan held onto him, the strength of his hands holding their bodies firmly together. When their lips finally separated, it was Callum this time that fled the scene. He had known that his heart had been recently inflamed not by Nathan but by that of a former love returned to his life.

HOLLYWOOD HOSPITAL

Vittoria managed to reach Hollywood Hospital at an opportune time since security had successfully warded off the media from Justin’s room. Vittoria knew his story would be one of great sensationalism and prompt many outrageous news headlines. She peeked into Justin’s room and saw that he was in the bed, seemingly fast asleep. It would be easy to finish him off just like she had intended with Brendon that one night when she had attempted to smother him—had it not been for that other dyke stopping her and engaging in a confrontation. What’s with these damn lesbians getting in my way?

She crept into the room and carefully walked up to the bed, her hand fishing insider her purse for the knife when Justin’s eyes opened, his mouth following suit as he released a yawn. A pall of fear then fell over his face as his pupils dilated at the ominous sight of Vittoria.

Vittoria: Wake up, Sleepyhead. (brandishing the knife) You missed me?

Justin: What the fuck are you doing here?

Vittoria: I was bringing you a get-well-soon gift. (moving the blade toward him)

Justin: Look, I promise I won’t say a word about you.

Vittoria (withdrawing the knife): You know better. Besides, it might damage your credibility to be associated with me. That’s some lie you’re telling.

Justin: It’s the truth!

Vittoria: Yeah, right, and the tooth fairy is real. I know enough about Nathan to know he’s not capable of that. Hell, I’ll be a character witness for him in court if you—

Justin: My beef isn’t with you so don’t worry. It’s with Nate and Brendon. So you can leave. (pause) But I may need a fix from when you I get out of here. (winking) This pain is killing me.

Vittoria: As long as it’s on the sly. The cops are all on my case. Anyway, I better get the hell out of here before I’m seen.

Rushing to the door, elated with her victory, she hadn’t exited the room more than three yards when she stopped dead in her tracks, hearing the voice that scared her.

Brendon: Vittoria, what the hell were you doing in there?

Vittoria (to some extent mollified by the sight of Brendon in a wheelchair): Brendon, I-I was coming to see you, but—

Brendon: Cut the bullshit, Vittoria. Word has it that you’re selling drugs to my nephew.

Vittoria: Well, you both look as if you could use some painkillers.

Brendon: Yeah, you did a pretty bang up job on me and Nate.

Vittoria (courageously rushing to him, bending down into his face): Trust me, I didn’t mean to hurt Nathan. He was just at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Brendon (cryptically): Sort of like how you were. (long pause) I see that shut your trap. Let’s take this somewhere else.

Vittoria reluctantly went with him into an empty hospital room. All she wanted to do was grasp the handles of his wheelchair and push it through one of the glass windows. They were on the higher floors. That would take care of him once and for all.

Vittoria (cowardice washing over her): Look, Brendon, I-I-

Brendon: After all I’ve done for you, Vittoria, this is how you repay me (gesturing to his bandaged head) by beating my brains out and attempting to burn me alive.

Vittoria (in amazement): After all you’ve done for me? (growing angry) You’re not only pimping me and Tristan out, but you’re also blackmailing us, you heartless bastard!

Brendon: Well, this heartless bastard holds the key to your freedom. With one word from me, Mickey Giordano will track you and Tristan down for offing his brother, Rudy.

Vittoria: It was self-defense! Rudy attacked us first.

Brendon: Somehow I don’t think Mickey the mobster will accept self-defense as a plausible excuse. You know how you dagos are about family ties. You and Tristan owed his brother big time for all those gambling debts you racked up in Vegas.

Vittoria: Speaking of family, haven’t you got enough to worry about with your would-be hubby feeling all over your nephew?

Brendon: Shut up about that!

Vittoria (continuing): But then again Justin’s also a conniving liar like you. I guess bad blood runs in your family.

Brendon: I said shut up! As long as I know what I know about you and Tristan, you both will do as I say. Not only have I got you two on killing a mobster’s brother, but one call to Immigration, and you’re both back on a boat to Italy, where Mickey can easily find you. I’m sure Italy’s version of witness protection hardly fares any better than America’s.

Vittoria: Why are you doing this to us? We’ve done everything you’ve asked of us. We appear in your movies—both mainstream independent and your seedy softcore porn—and we’ve escorted for you. What more do you want?

Brendon: I thought you liked sex, Sugar Tits. Tristan surely does. That boy was made for it, and he never complains when he gets paid for it. Now as for you, I see it’s done a number on your sanity. After all, I’m in this damn wheelchair because of you.

Vittoria (bitterly): And I’d do it all over again! I hate you. (pause) I just want to be free of you.

Brendon: Look, I’m a forgiving man. I’m willing to put all this behind us. I have one more assignment for you, and I’ll let you off the hook for good.

Vittoria: Who do you need me to fuck or blow this time? Some producer you’re trying to impress?

Brendon: Oh, no, it’s not that kind of assignment. This one is more up your alley.

Vittoria: What are you talking about?

Brendon (gravely): I want you to permanently “take care” of Callum Sutcliffe for me.

TO BE CONTINUED…