"My children. I have something to tell you."

"Mama." The young girl was fisting at her over sized black hoodie, making sure it hi her face as she sobbed. "Oh Mama."

"Oh my darling daughter." A fallen Spanish angel lay in a hospital bed, an unnatural white tint to her honey skin. Her deep brown eyes were sunken; her thick ebony hair was matted to the hospital pillows. The soft dropping sound of the morphine in the IV echoed like drums in the background, along with the beeping of heart monitors and the distant sound of doctors and nurses running around. The woman gulped; her throat dry and the action sending shooting pain through her head. She lifted a shaking hand onto her daughter's head, the patient tag with her name, Catherina Mendez, sliding down her wasting wrist. "My little Angelica."

"It's not fair Mama. You don't deserve this." Catherina slipped her weak hand under the hood and caressed her beloved child's face.

"I know child. But I am dying. Which is why I must ask you to hear something I never wanted to tell you." She watched her daughter slowly lift her head and press her cheek into her hand. Two gleaming watery amber eyes stared back at the wasting woman. "I thought one day I might have to tell you. But I wanted to wait until you were all grown up, not a child." She gulped, finding it harder and harder to talk.

"Mama, what do you mean?"

"Oh child. You are my little angel. But I need to tell you of my past. Only then will you be able to move forward however you wish. But despite how sordid this tale becomes, listen to me. You must listen to me." She took as deep a breath as her aching lungs would allow. "Only at the end will you understand who you two really are, and why I've kept this from you. Before we moved to Metropolis, before you were born, I lived in Gotham..."

(from now on all italics is the narrative of the mother, Catherina Mendez).

"Ladies and Gentle men, welcome back our leading lady, Catherina Mendez, our lady in red."

Smooth tones of Jazz music and sweet piano cords danced through the air of the hottest Jazz Bar in all of Gotham. The carpets were purple velvet, the tables on the floor were round and dark mahogany with golden frames. The chairs were a lush deep black with high backs and dark wooden legs. There were purple and gold velvet curtains covering the walls and a long bar shimmering with bottles of every kind of liquor against the wall on tap. 5 waiters dressed in full tux's, minus the jacket, with a dark red waist jacket and tie manned the bar with perfect hair and smiles. This was a luxurious club, where only the finest, richest...

...scum on the Falcone friends and associates list relaxed and conducted business in private.

Now you have to understand. I was the only daughter of my single parent mother, Sophia Mendez, and we grew up in the Queen's Harlem. I was born in Falcone land, and that made me their property.

Young women in the slummed out areas of Gotham could do one of three things. They could marry a gangster, and have their protection. This meant being their woman, and being at their mercy.

Second, you could become a working girl, and hope you have a pimp that protects his merchandise. That of course was also a dangerous life, and it would have killed me to do this.

And third, you could have a skill that the Falcone want. And this is how I supported myself and my mother over 20 years ago...

An Espanic beauty sashayed onto the stage, 5ft 6 with long ebony wavy hair down her back, her bangs framing her sharp feline face and high silver stilettos. They matched her three layered diamond encrusted choker and sparkling bracelets on each wrist, part of a set. She wore a long ruby red dress with a V neck, long sleeves and a slit up either side to her mid thigh, exposing her shapely honey legs. Her lips were also ruby red and her deep brown eyes framed with smoky eye shadow. The woman smoothed her hands down her dress, took a deep breath and nodded to the jazz band. She released a soft hum into the microphone to test it was working, and right on cue released a barrage of husky tunes which would lull with higher feather soft harmonies.

I was talent scouted at my school. I had just graduated and I was singing in the ceremony when a very smartly dressed man approached my mother. He said I was perfect for a new opening they had at the hottest jazz club in Gotham. The Blue Moon. My mother and I were so excited. They would pay me $1000 a night, give me luxury accommodation and all my bills would be included. I'd get to sing for a career, and earn enough to take care of my mother. I was 18 and looking forward to life for the first time in my life.

Catherina's voice lulled and excited all who heard it, and quickly became the headline act of The Blue Moon. Life was good.

That was, until she was reminded that she 'belonged' to the Falcone gang.

Life was good. Very good. For a while. Men paid me attention of course. And I was no fool. I knew that the Falcone Gang owned that club. As I knew they owned all of the Queens area in Gotham. It was expected that everyone in this part of town worked for them.

What I didn't realise was I was expected to have more than one obligation to the gang. Because I was a woman.

After a few weeks and she had become established in the club and became accustomed to the life style. That's when it all went south.

A few of the regulars at the club. They belonged to the Falcone gang, actually gang members. They always watched me from the shadows. This night they jumped me. Forced me to...the three of them took turns with me. Afterwards they said if I didn't like it I should take it up with the boss.

I did.

He laughed.

He said I belonged to him, and his men. And he liked to reward his men for good work with fine women.

Catherina stared at Eric Falcone, the head of the club and one of the lesser generals of the Falcone gang, as he told her to go home, clean up and be on time for rehearsals tomorrow. He also informed her, that if she ever told the police, he would personally make sure her mother turned up in the river.

So the battered, traumatised and bleeding woman hobbled home and cried in the bottom of the luxurious bathtub. She held herself, scrubbing her body clean over and over again. She saw flashes of those men leering at her, the feel of their hands on her body, the cold stone of the brick wall pressing against her back as they rammed her into it over and over and over. Catharina was in the bath for over an hour cleaning herself. Even after the water ran cold and her skin became covered in Goosebumps, she still sat in that murky bath.

She only stopped crying when the phone rang. She turned and looked out of the bathroom door, as if unsure what that ringing noise was or if it was safe to leave the confines of her bath to go and answer it. after the 5th ring she slowly pulled herself out of the bath and wrapped a large fluffy white towel around her body. She ignored the wet footprints she made in the chocolate shag carpet, making her way to the telephone. She fell to her knees by the small table and lifted the phone with shaking hands.

"Catherina? Oh my baby, I was worried when you did not answer straight away. I always call at 9, like you say, and you no answer?" Catharina wiped the tears from her face and took a deep breath. Her mother's English wasn't as good as hers, but it added to her charm. Her Spanish twang always made her sound gentle, even when she was angry. That was of course, until she was very angry. "Is everything ok?"

"Yes Mama." She worked hard to hold back her tears and her shaky breathing. "I was late from work. I just got out of the bath."

"Oh good. I just wanted to let you know that my new chair is here! It is so soft and good on my back. I press the button and it lifts me to my feet. My back is singing its praises to the heavens."

"Oh good." Catherina started dabbing the towel to her legs, staring down at the bruises as she let her mother chuckle about how good their lives were now.

I belonged to the Falcone; I couldn't leave even if I wanted to. The only ways out were to go to the police or to die. I would never leave my mother alone. I was all she had left in this world. She had managed to work all of her life in a corner shop, which had been robbed more times that we could count and she had been shot three times. The last time was in her back and caused her pain all the time. all I wanted to do was take care of my mother.

If I told her what happened to me that night she would call the police.

And the Falcone gang would kill her.

"You are very quiet tonight baby?"

"I'm just tired Mama." She pulled the towel from her middle and dabbed her hair. "I'm probably going to go to bed soon." She cleared her throat, trying not to sound as typically nasal as you did after crying your heart out.

"Alright child. You work so hard. Take care of yourself baby."

"I will Mama. Good night."

Catherina put the phone down and released a breath she didn't realise she'd been holding.

I couldn't tell my mother what had happened. It wasn't just my life that was in danger, it was hers as well. My mother worked hard all her life just so I could go to school and graduate. She was so proud when I got a job as a singer. If she found out I'd been gang raped, and that I had to put up with it, it would break her heart. She'd have insisted that I had to go to the police, regardless what might happen to her.

I couldn't do that to her.

The next day she showered again, and pulled on a pair of black pumps, a pink play suit and a black denim jacket. She tied her hair up into a high ponytail, curved her fringe over her forehead and her bangs to frame her face. She picked up her black sequin handbag and headed into Gotham.

First stop...the pharmacy. She bought a morning after pill and immediately downed it with some mineral water. In light of the state of Gotham, despite the recent drop in crime, women only needed to prove they were over 18 now to get emergency contraception over the counter.

Which was great, as she didn't want to have to explain what had happened to her...

Her next stop was a place she'd never been before. A gun shop.

If they thought she was just going to let them rape her, they had another thing coming. She couldn't quit her job. She couldn't go to the police.

So I decided to take matters into my own hands. I bought a small revolver and a box of bullets for it. Then I bought a special knife.

"Listen lady." A aging man with soft white hair and a matching moustache folded his arms over his chequered shirt and denim jeans. "I can't count how many women I've sold 38 special revolvers to in this city. But sometimes you don't have your handbag on you. Now, I never used to be a knives person." he opened up the glass cabinet and pulled out what looked like a black USB pen, the length of a middle finger. "This is one of the smallest switch blades out there. You can conceal this in your purse, or more commonly these days, in your jeans pocket or down your bra. This button here-" he pointed to a small silver button on the side. He pressed it, and with a soft fwip, the long silver blade shot out of the handle. "-the blade comes out. it's not long enough to kill a man unless you aim for the neck. Not that that's what I think you want it for, but it's long enough to cause some serious pain and damage. Enough for you to get away." There was a knowing look in his blue eyes. "You need someone to talk to hun? I have a daughter about your age so-"

"No sir." Catherina paid in cash and showed him her id. She managed to convince him not to take a copy of it. "Thank you sir. Good day."

I went straight home, and built up the courage to go to rehearsals at the club that day. I walked in carrying my dress over my arm in a carrier and my accessories and makeup in my handbag. I walked straight through the club and into the dressing room. The dancers were already getting into their feather carnival outfits for the exotic dancing entertainment, the show opener.

"Hay honey, slow down." The leading lady of the exotics, as they were nicknamed, called her over. "You're shaking like a leaf deary." Catherina looked the woman over. She was the only one to have shown her any kindness in her weeks here. She was a tall busty blonde with brilliant blue eyes and signature bubblegum pink lips. Her outfits always matched this shade, and she was referred to the pink lady. Today's outfit consisted of pink high heels, pink fishnet tights attached to her showgirl pink dress with feathers framing the bust and the skirt of the dress. Her long sleeved gloves were again, pink as were the gems on her diamante choker and eye shadow. She had her hair pinned up on her head in curls with pink feathers sticking up like a fan at the back. They bounced with the movement of her head. Her real name was Lucy Meadows, and she was the only one who would talk to the 'new girl'. "Sit down sweetie."

"Oh Lucy." Catherina dropped into her seat next to the woman. "I need go back out there. But I ca-ca." She whimpered and held her face in her hands. "After the show last night..." her body shook, her bones were cold under her skin and the phantom touch of those men made her stomach churn.

"Oh dear." Lucy stopped her there, lifting the latino's face from her hands and smoothing away the start of tears. "I didn't think this would happen to you so soon. When you ran off last night...did those goons who followed you...?"

"You knew this would happen?!" her big brown eyes stared at her new friend who looked sympathetic, but knowing. "Why didn't you-"

"Warn you? I was going to. But I didn't think I'd have to warn you so soon. It was 4 months before they...I mean with me..." Lucy released her chin and looked down at her dresser. Each artist had a station with a dresser, a small wardrobe to the right and a large mirror with all their accessories and toiletries in front of them. Lucy started to fuss over her hair brush rather than look at the shaking woman. "Listen kid." She turned and flashed her sorry baby blues at her. "I was exactly the same as you. Bright eyed, bushy tailed, and totally innocent. You lost that last night. And that isn't right. And that-" Lucy pointed at the revolver poking out of her handbag. "Might make you feel safer, but not against these guys." She leaned closer, picking up a tissue to dab the younger woman's face with. "Cathy, these men are cold blooded killers. They ain't gonna stop doing what they do, because one of their girlies went and bought herself a gun. They don't come after you on their own. Can you shoot more than one man before they draw their gun? And they pack some serious heat sugar. Big semi and full automatic guns. Not tiny little 38 specials."

I listened to new friend, feeling my short lived feeling of security slip away from me. With every word she spoke I felt helpless again, but I knew she was telling the truth. I listened to her with such desperation, hoping she would give me an answer. And...in her way...she did.

"There has to be something I can do? I will not let them rape me." Catherina hissed under her breath, not wanting the other girls to hear them as the dressing room became a hustle with ladies getting ready. Her body ached as she leaned in to the blonde, trying to keep their conversation private.

"Girls have come and gone, many have fought and most have turned up in pieces in the back allies of Gotham for trying it." Lucy demanded her attention, holding either side of her face. "There is only one way to protect yourself in this life honey. This advice I'm about to lay down for you, was given to me by Lady Ana, who you will now know as Anya Falcone." Lucy pulled her Hispanic friend's silver brush from her dresser and ran it through her long black hair. This action started to calm her friend.

"The boss's wife?"

"Exactly."

Lucy told me the real reason she was making the effort to befriend and help me in this harsh world. When she was new, the leading act was a woman who plaid the piano beautifully. She was Lady Ana, a Russian diva who could sing as well as play. This experienced woman took young Lucy under her wing, and helped her pick herself up of the floor when 'they' were done with her. "I asked her one day why the boys never bothered her like they did the rest of us."

"How did she stay safe?" a stage hand ran in and told them they had to get ready, it was curtain up in 20 minutes. So Catherina hurried out of her clothes and into a long red mermaid style dress. Long red gloves, a halter neck dress with clung to her shapely body and followed her curves to her knees, where the dress flared out over her red heels. Lucy helped her straighten her hair as she applied her makeup. Red lips and smoky eyes as always.

"She got herself a man. She said to me, if you want to stay safe, you need to commit the lesser of two evils. Pick a man who will make sure no other man touches you. Belong to someone strong enough to protect you. She did, and now she's married to him. And I've done the exact same thing." Cathy fluffed her hair and got to her feet.

"Who's woman are you?"

"Finny Kent. Eric Falcone's right hand man. He's the one always sat with the boss man." Lucy held the younger woman's hands and nodded at her. "He's a pig. But he's only one pig who is grateful for my...willingness."

"But-"

"Get in line ladies! Exotics are on the stage in five minutes!" the stage hand barked through the dressing room door, making Lucy shuffle on the spot for the door.

"Like I said sugar. The lesser of two evils. Trust me, better than the alternative!" The blonde bombshell joined the other multicoloured show girls and filed out for the stage.

Catherina lowered to her seat and stared at the door. There were other acts in the large dressing room waiting to go on apart from her. but at that moment, she felt alone.

The words of my wiser friend vibrated through me. What happened to me last night was evil and would always be my worst nightmare. I still couldn't look a man sideways 24 hours later. I probably could have used some counselling, but that would involve telling someone what happened to me. And I couldn't do that. Lucy only knows because she already knew. Looking back, I couldn't believe I'd even managed to get up that morning, never mind ran errands and turned up for work as normal.

"Miss Mendez, you're on in 10."

"Si, thank you." She stared at herself in the mirror. How long had she been sat there? She was at least the 4th act, and each act took at least 30 minutes to an hour.

My mind was a blur with everything and nothing, thinking over what my friend Lucy had said. I had to either accept this life, and be the play thing for those brutes every night for the rest of my life, use a gun to protect myself and risk turning up in an alleyway in bite size chunks, or...give myself to a man who has enough fear and respect to stop any other man from using me. The more I thought about it, the more I could see how Lucy could be right. It was the lesser of two evils. Being one man's whore, was much better than being at the mercy of the any Falcone thug that fancied a taste of me.

"Come on, it's time." Catherina turned and looked at the stage hand, nodding and raising to her feet with as much elegance as her aching and bruised body would allow. She wobbled on the way to the door, as she had all day.

"Arny, I'm going to need a high stool and a mic on a stand."

"Already on the stage. I'll move it into position for you. Now hurry!"

She cautiously followed him out and waited for him to run around the stage, putting the high stool and mic in the middle of the stage. Catherina put on a brave face and held her head high as she walked out and took her place on the stool.

I wouldn't give those fools the satisfaction of seeing my fear and pain.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the one, the only, the lady in red Catherina Mendez!"

The pianist plaid a soft tune to start with, and danced through the instrumental introduction to get everyone's attention. She expanded her diaphragm and ribs at the right time, and released her voice onto the room. The soft and passionate melody of Cry me a river lulled through the club like invisible smoke, turning and dancing around the audience's ears with delight.

She performed many of the best jazz songs over the night, getting much applause and praise from the audience. Her encore song was 'At last'.

As I sang that night I had an agenda. I scanned the crowd, looking at my...would-be suitors. There were many men there, as always. Most were the likes of top brass police men, judges, lawyers and an array of Falcone thugs.

Catherina needed someone powerful, someone possessive, and she needed them fast. She couldn't be raped again. She'd die first.

She had no answer to the question of 'who' by the time she had finished singing. The Latino princess in the red dress gingerly lowered from her stool to her high heels. She did what she usually did and sat at the entertainer's table.

After each performer finished their act they stepped off the stage and sat on a table to the right. Between the stage and the bar. It was made clear on their first day that they were expected to look pretty for the customers and even keep them company if it was cleared with the boss. And by cleared with the boss, I mean they have paid the correct boon to convince the boss to allow it.

As of yet no one had paid to have Catherina's company. Lucy was always with her boyfriend and protector Finny Kent. He was a stout kind of man. He wasn't very tall or attractive and clearly loved the richer food groups, but he took care of himself. He was always clean shaven and wearing a new Armani suit. Custom made from the look of it. His eyes were a sharp brown and he was laughing with the big man Eric Falcone and his wife, Anya sat with some of their richer clients over cards, cigars and of course, booze. Their table was at the far left from the stage, at the back of the club and out of sight. It was designed that way to give the boss the most privacy when conducting business.

At first she cursed when she saw Lucy waving for her to come over, having just sat down at the entertainers table and hoping for some peace and quiet. She put on a smile, pushed herself back onto her aching feet and forced herself walk with as much elegance as she could muster. As she reached the table, she scanned her eyes over the clients. One was in a very nice gray suit with a matching fedora hat. He hat it tipped forward to hide his face from on lookers and cameras. The other looked a bit scrappier with a long raincoat over a black track suit and a stubbly black beard to go with his messy black hair and dark eyes. This messy guy looked her up and down with such a hunger it made her freeze in place with fear.

"Cathy." Lucy forced a giggle and grabbed her friend's hand, yanking her both out of the terror trance she was in and down onto her lap at the end of the table. The blond wrapped her arms around her raven haired friend and beamed at her with a determined smile. "This is my man Finny, you know the boss and Lady Anya, and this is his honour Judge Reynolds and Denny the fist. He's Finny's second in command."

Which meant he was the next most powerful member of this faction. He was my best choice in the Falcone ranks.

Catherina smiled at them all, and said nothing. She was just glad to be on Lucy's lap and not anyone else's. As she looked at the leering man that was 'Denny the fist' she felt physically sick. There was no way she could lay down and take it for this man. Just by looking at him she could tell he wasn't interested in making sure no other man touched her. He was just interested on having a piece of her himself. Not a comforting thought.

"You feeling better today?" she snapped her head to the boss, Eric Falcone, still looking like a beautiful deer caught in the headlights of fear. "You were feeling...unwell yesterday. Back to normal?"

"Of course she is." Lucy sang, holding the terrified young woman's hands on her lap, on top of her lap. "She's only 18 so all this is a bit much for her. Practically a baby really."

"And what a fine mother hen she has found herself." Anya tipped her raven head to one side at her. Her blue eyes were steel and sharp as they analysed Catherina up and down. "A fine voice too."

"Gracias." Her voice came out in a whisper and raised the brow of the Russian diva and her gangster husband. It looked like said gangster was about to say something, when a tall figure appeared before the table. Slowly her deep brown eyes moved over to the figure, and then swept upwards. He was a large man, bigger than she had ever seen in her life. The brown raincoat he wore could have been a tent it was that big. His hat was also enormous and tipped so far forward, you couldn't see any of his face. His hands were in his coat pockets, and he didn't say a word.

"Right, everyone make yourself busy. Now." Eric shooed everyone and his wife off the table to sit alone with the mass of a man. As Lucy dragged Catherina past the tall man she couldn't help but stare. The mystery of the man commanded her eyes to desperately seek for his face. He seemed to turn his head to watch her pass him, but she couldn't tell.

She was hurried back to the entertainers table and sat next to Lucy, who started fussing over her immediately.

Lucy was worried about me, I could tell. I should have listened to her. she was talking to me, telling me that it wouldn't be good for me to freeze up like that again in front of the boss. She was also saying something about Denny, about him being a suitable match for me, but...

I wasn't listening.

I was staring at the tall man in the raincoat and hat, hunched over as he sat with Eric Falcone.

He was too big for the chair. He had to hunch over just to keep his legs tucked under the table and his coat wrapped around his form. Catherina cocked her head to one side as she saw his hands finally appear on the table. Big black leather gloves. Interesting, she thought.

Who was his mystery man?

He spoke secretly, leaning down to Eric's level. They were probably talking about gang business.

"Lucy." Catherina cut her friend off in her wittering, and pointed to the tall man in the large coat. "Who is the large man talking to Señor Falcone?"

When I didn't get an answer I turned back to Lucy to find her hand over her mouth and her eyes wide.

"Oh sweety, that's one of the baddest men in all of Gotham. He hides his face, but we all know who he is." Catherina finally turned away from the tall man to look quizzically at her friend.

"Who is he?" Lucy tucked a stray lock of blonde hair behind her ear and looked down between them anxiously.

"Bad news."

"But-"

"Killer Croc." The blonde whispered and nervously and then looked around, seeing if anyone had heard them.

"Really?" Catherina immediately turned back to look at the man in the coat. "The Killer Croc?"

Now, she hadn't raised her voice. If anything, she hushed her words. But she had been looking at the man as she spoke his name.

And he had been watching her.

He saw her ruby lips form the words.

Her body stiffened, but she didn't look away. She couldn't.

She and every other person in Gotham knew about Killer Croc. She'd seen blurred pictures of him in the papers, his evil deeds described in the news, and his reputation definitely preceded him.

He was a known Falcone muscle man.

And he was still staring back at her.

"Cathy!" Lucy yanked on her arm and pulled her round to face her. "What the hell are you doing?! Don't stare at him?! You nuts lady?!"

"I have to sing." Catherina was running on dark instinct now. She didn't know it, but she was hatching a plan. A very stupid and dangerous plan. "Right now."

"Well, sure, there isn't anyone up there right now so- hold on!"

Before anyone could stop me I was on that stage, stood at the front, holding the mic and hissing secret instructions to the band. The hairs on my arms stood on end and my heart was hammering in my chest.

Catherina took a deep breath and calmed herself through the musical introduction to a song she hadn't yet sang in public. She turned to the table with Eric and Killer Croc on it, and nodded. She released the mic on the stand, and swayed her arms and body to the music.

"I put a spell on you. Because your mine." She sang it husky and full bodied. She rolled her hips, lips and eyes with the music, finding her gaze turning to look at the table with him on it. Even with the lights on her, she could see he was watching her and ignoring whatever Eric was trying to tell him.

It was him.

He was the one.

Everyone feared Killer Croc. My only other option was that pig Denny the fist. I would probably turn up in a ditch being his woman, after doing horrible things with him. I couldn't do it. But Killer Croc? No one would ever touch me again if I was his woman. But I was still scared, even as I sang. This man was a mass murderer, one of the deadliest hit men in all of history, and what he did to his victims...could I really do this?

Catherina finished her song with a ballad style finish, powerful and loud. As the song finished the audience got to the feet and applauded her. She blushed at their response, having not expected their enthusiasm. She hadn't sang that song for them, after all. She turned coyly to see if he was still watching. It was then he got up from the table and took a brown paper bag from Eric. He looked in her direction as she stepped off the stage, then headed for the exit.

Catherina tensed up then. Her target was getting away from her! She ignored how her legs and pelvis screamed at her for moving this much, and blanked her excited blonde friend. She pushed her way through the crowd of applauding people to the back door. He literally stepped out of it a minute before her, and he was already down the other end of the alley.

"Señor! Wait a moment! Señor!" he stopped at the end of the alley and turned to look over his shoulder at her. She smiled gently and walked towards him.