Friends... I FINALLY FINISHED COLLEGE! In celebration, here is the long awaited update! Now that I have a life and not mounting piles of homework, I plan to update much more often. I would appreciate it so much if you reviewed (you can totally yell at me for taking FOREVER to update) and let me know what you think of the new chapter :)

Enjoy!

The morning sunlight streamed through the castle window, illuminating stacks of parchment on a grand desk and the Captain General, Cesare Borgia, sitting in just as spacious chair. He caressed his clean cut beard in contemplation as he read the morning's report, relaxed and focused. The morning was Cesare's private time: a time for strategy development, a time for schemes, and a time for his desires and dreams to become reality. That is, unless he is interrupted. And that he was, harshly, by a blood encrusted cross skidding across his desk and resting beneath his report. The Captain General took a slow, deep breath as he moved the report he held to inspect the cross and then, even more slowly, raised his eyes to glare at his intruder. Of course it was Fiora. The once courtesan stood in front of his desk, her hip cocked to the side and arms folded.

"What is this?" Cesare whispered, trying to keep some semblance of the quiet morning he was previously enjoying.

"Oh? Do you not know?" Fiora teased, cocking her head to the side. "I thought you would surely recognize the cross of one of your own agents."

"I know who this belongs to, Fiora," Cesare hissed, throwing aside his report. "I am asking you why it is on my desk and covered in blood?"

Fiora walked to the side of Cesare's study and toyed with one of his many ancient artifacts he displayed on one of his side tables. Fiora's back was to the General Captain and she could sense his irritated gaze on her neck at her silence. He was never a patient man.

"It is quite an interesting tale, actually," Fiora began, turning to face Cesare as she passed a wooden model between her hands. "I was doing as you ordered, delivering fresh meat to the slaughter of Ristoro's appetite, when I noticed the guards of his church faced down in their own blood."

Cesare's eyes narrowed.

"I sent the girls away, naturally, and investigated the church. And guess what I found?" Fiora walked forward and placed the model on Cesare's desk.

"Stop delaying and tell me what happened," Cesare hissed again, a vein beginning to appear on his forehead. His calm morning was gone.

"I walked in just in time to see an assassin retrieve his blade from Ristoro's throat." For punctuation, Fiora tipped over the wooden model. It rolled until the bloodied cross halted its movement.

Cesare closed his eyes with a snarl on his lips.

"And it was not just any assassino," Fiora said, folding her arms and watching Cesare try to remain calm. "It was Ezio Auditore."

At this, Cesare's rage entered the room with violent force as he stood from his desk and harshly batted away the wooden model and cross, sending them flying across the room.

"How do you know this?" he bellowed, his weight in his hands as he leaned onto his desk. Spittle flew from his mouth and the vein on his forehead was even more pronounce.

"I followed him after he left the church and watched him enter a tavern in the Antico District. He was greeted by the boy at the door who used his name," Fiora replied, keeping eye contact with Cesare.

Most of what she said was truth. But Fiora would be a fool to admit her meetings and conversations with the Master Assassin with Cesare. The Templar leader was already fuming and if she were to expose her escapades with Ezio Auditore now, her beheading was a high possibility.

"Auditore is scheming," growled Cesare, his attention not wholly on Fiora anymore. "The retch will try to get revenge and thwart my rule. This must not happen."

His eyes came to Fiora.

"Why did you not follow him into the inn? Or perhaps kill him when he left?"

Fiora scoffed. "I am no coward but I am also no fool. That inn was being watched by his allies. If I went in, there would have been suspicion. If I waited outside until he left, suspicion again. I did what I could without jeopardizing our cause."

"Sounds like a coward to me."

"If I had tried something, Ristoro would not be the only agent you lost last night," Fiora said through gritted teeth.

This quieted Cesare's anger. He inhaled and stood, the light from the window casting his dark shadow over Fiora.

"Forgive me, Fiora," he said as he rounded his desk to stand next to the ex-courtesan.

"Thank you for bringing this information to me. I now know that Auditore is moving against me by targeting those who work with me. This is nothing to fear. For I have an… asset… arriving next week that will aid me."

Fiora raised an eyebrow. "An asset?"

Cesare smirked and placed a hand on her lower back, beginning to walk her toward the door of his study.

"Caterina Sforza is my captive from the attack on Monteriggioni. I will take her lands and use her to get to Auditore."

"And why would the Master Assassino care about Sforza?"

"Auditore was her lover and he is a gentleman. He will try to rescue her and waste his efforts in the process."

"You think he will be too concentrated on Sforza and therefore, distracted?" Fiora tried not to let her doubt sound in her voice or show on her face.

Was Cesare mad? From her limited encounters with Auditore, Fiora did not take the master assassin to be so simple minded to be distracted by pretty legs. Or was he? He did seem to take an interest in her awfully fast. Cesare opened the door with no answer and revealed Lucretia Borgia with her hand extended, about to open the door herself. Her eyes fell on the hand at Fiora's backed and narrowed. Fiora smirked and leaned a little closer to Cesare. Lucretia was a spoiled cow. No one dared saying no to her and when they did, they often found Cesare's knife in their back. She was also quick to be jealous and Fiora loved to antagonize her.

"Lucretia, cara mia. How pleasant to see you," Fiora purred, walking away from Cesare's touch to pass the lady. Lucretia's hand seized her arm, jerking Fiora close with their faces inches away from each other.

"Are you going to kiss me?" Fiora taunted, giving Lucretia's outrageously red lips a coquettish glance.

"You worthless puttana. Cesare does not need you to do his work," the Borgia woman jeered.

"This sounds like a conversation for him then. Perhaps you could waste his time instead of mine."

"Dirty-"

"Enough, amore mio"

Lucretia did not removed her stare from Fiora as Cesare pulled her away, slinging his long arms around her waist and nuzzling her neck.

"You know I do not approve," Lucretia complained.

"Yes, amore mio. But it is business only."

Fiora rolled her eyes and walked away from the incestuous couple.

"Fiora! Tell the guard to double their patrol."

With only a small, lazy wave in acknowledgement, she exited the hallway.

After two hours and six blacksmiths later, Ezio had the strong impulse to throw his hidden blade into the Tiber. All six of the blacksmiths he approached were completely useless and claimed he asked for a miracle. No common metal smith could fix the contraption he possessed, only a genius, they said.

"How correct they are," muttered Ezio, as he headed for a blacksmith the previous visited blacksmith recommended.

He missed Leonardo. Not only for his genius intellect but for his conversation and good company. Ezio missed the times in Venezia when he would spend late nights trying to convince Leonardo to stop working and drink themselves into oblivion. A small smile came to the master assassin's shadowed face as he approached the door to a sparsely decorated building with a faded lion's head with a hammer in its mouth on a ragged flag. As Ezio entered the building, the door swung open awkwardly, it's top hinge detaching from the frame and causing a fair amount of trouble for the assassin as he fumbled to close the broken door. He turned to find a dimly lit, haggard room as the front of the shop. However, despite no thought being given to display, the shop looked like it could supply an army for months. Every inch of the tables and walls were filled with armor and weapons. Ezio weaved his way through the dangerous maze to the front desk where a tall, wizened man sat behind the counter with a large leather book.

"Buon giorno, signore," said Ezio, lowering his hood as he reached the counter.

The man looked up at Ezio with just his eyes, his pen poised over his ledger. After several seconds of evaluation, the man straightened and rose to several inches taller than the master assassin. The man reflected the image of his shop. His skin was weathered and akin to leather, every wrinkle seemed to mark a year of his life but his frame and muscles were built for work. He nodded to Ezio before he said, "How may I help you, Messer?"

"I have a very unique problem that I am hoping you can help me with," replied Ezio, unbuckling his accursed assassin's blade on his forearm and handing it across the counter.

The blacksmith took the vambrace from Ezio and rolled it around in his fingers until he saw the side with the blade. "What is your issue?" he grunted, sitting and holding the blade side up to his eyes.

"Usually, I can initiate the weapon from here and then the blade withdraws and sheathes," said Ezio, pointing to the respective areas. "But the blade seems to be lodged inside and I do not have the skill to fix it."

"Who made this for you?" the man questioned, laying the vambrace on his ledger and giving Ezio a suspicious look.

"A dear friend that I no longer am in contact with," Ezio responded, deciding it was best to leave Leonardo's name out of the conversation.

No emotion or response passed across the man's face at Ezio's replay, his gaze still fixed on the master assassin's face. He eventually exhaled deeply, picked up the blade and held it out for Ezio.

"Your friend was a talented man but I do not have the mind to fix your weapon."

Ezio's frustration rose again as he took his blade back with pursed lips and a stiff nod.

"I am grateful for your time, sign-"

"But the boy in the back could possibly aid you."

Ezio stopped turning away and looked back to the blacksmith. The man had picked up his pen again and gestured to a door leading deeper into the shop.

"My apprentice is out back. He tinkers with unusual weapons and may be able to help where I cannot," he grunted and then continued his writing.

Ezio looked to the door and then back at the blacksmith.

"Grazie."

The door led to a small, open courtyard. As Ezio closed the door behind him, he observed smoke rising from an open furnace and a young man working diligently on a half-shaped, bright orange sword over a large anvil. The boy's hair was drawn back into a low queue, his clothes simple and his shirt damp with sweat.

"Scusi, amico!" Ezio called over the sound of the hammer against metal reverberating off the stone wall.

The boy stopped his strike mid swing and turned towards the call, revealing intelligent, light brown eyes and a strong jaw.

"Scusi but your master sent me back to speak with you," said Ezio, sensing the confusion in the boy's stance.

The young blacksmith set aside his tools and wiped his hands on his apron before extending a hand out.

"Massimo, Messer. I suspect the master sent you back with a unique project."

Ezio cocked his head in curiosity as he shook the extended hand.

"Ezio. Do you get these requests often?"

The boy shrugged with a knowing smile and motioned for Ezio to follow him to a work bench, motioning for the master assassin to sit on the nearby stool.

"The master is as old fashioned as his steel. He believes in the strength of the sword more than the power of the rifle," replied Massimo, grabbing a rag from the table and wiping his face free of perspiration. "However, I am not blind to the appeal of the firearm and other strange weapons. I have made several myself. Therefore, I am usually given the tasks that extend beyond the master's patience."

Ezio smirked. He liked this boy.

"Then here is an especially unique project for you," said Ezio, extending his vambrace to Massimo.

The boy rolled the armor in his hands, much like his master, to the side with the hidden blade. His brows nit together and he set the weapon on the workbench, grabbing a small delicate tool and eye glass, much like the ones he had seen in Leonardo's possession.

"Affascinante…" whispered the boy, using the foreign tool to prod at the mechanism. "This is indeed complicated, Messer Ezio. But with time, I could fix it."

Ezio sighed with relief, the frustration in his chest slowly dissipating.

"This is the best news I have heard all day," the master assassin expressed with a sigh, rubbing his brow. "If I had known you would be my solution, I would not have wasted time with the other six blacksmiths."

Massimo straightened from the workbench and gave Ezio a smirk that reminded the master assassin of his younger self.

"It was the blacksmith by the Castello that told you to come here, yes?"

Ezio nodded, "he was quite confidant this shop would solve my problem."

Massimo chuckled. "I once bet the master of the shop I could make a better rifle than he. I received double the wages that month," he laughed, swiftly using his small tool on the vambrace to detached the hidden blade.

Handing back the vambrace to Ezio, he spoke, "Give me till the evening and your weapon will be good as new."

Ezio stood, taking back his armor and strapping the vambrace to his left forearm.

"Grazie, Massimo. You are a miracle worker," Ezio said with a smile, clasping forearms with the young man.

The boy laughed in return. "So I have been told!"

Ezio chuckled and turned towards the door to the main shop as the sound of metal and hammer began again behind him.

"Fiora!"

The ex-courtesan turned amongst a sea of bustling bodies to see Il Lupo weaving his way towards her. The city was already buzzing with activity and the guards were on full patrol as the young Templar made his way toward Fiora.

"Il Lupo," she greeted with a smile, kissing his cheek. He returned the gestured but paused when he saw her cheek. His eyes met hers and then back to her cheek.

"Cesare has been in a foul mood of late. He should not have struck you."

Fiora pulled her face away from his hand and turned to continue her way down the street.

"Cesare does a lot of things he should not," she sighed.

"I have just come from visiting him," Il Lupo said.

"Oh? You must have arrived just as I left."

"Cesare was… busy… doing things he should not," Il Lupo grimaced. Fiora quirked an eyebrow in puzzlement but then remembered how she had left Cesare. With Lucretia.

Fiora laughed loud, causing several people to turn their heads. "You need to start knocking before you enter his study."

Il Lupo grumbled resembling "you never do" while dodging a man carrying wares to his booth.

"That is because I know the sounds of sex without opening doors."

Il Lupo grunted as he kept surveying the crowd, pulling Fiora close to him to avoid a fast moving horses.

"He told me about Ristoro. And that Auditore killed him," Il Lupo whispered in her ear while their bodies were close and then let Fiora move away when the entourage of riders had passed.

At this change of topic and Il Lupo's careful tone, Fiora also glanced around the crowd. Il Lupo was not rash. She, along with Baltasar, had been grooming him to compete with the skill of the assassins by using their own techniques to train him. He must have surmised, just as she had, that the people were beginning to talk to the assassins and idle chit chat in the streets is conversation that any ears could hear. Anything pertaining to assassin business discussed out in the open was a dangerous risk for Templars.

"We must begin to warn the others," spoke Fiora, trying to keep their conversation vague enough for the passing civilian to not understand.

"Si," replied Il Lupo, "Do you want to tell the barber or shall I?"

"I will inform him once I finish some business. You inform our fellow pickpocket."

Il Lupo nodded.

"I will meet you at the barber's later for business and we will discuss this complication further then," Fiora dismissed, giving a sharp look at a beggar slowly inching their way towards their conversation.

"Understood."

Fiora kept walking forward as Il Lupo disappeared into the crowd behind her. Whenever they feared conversation to be overheard, they used their occupations as their code names. The barber was Baltasar and the pickpocket was Faustina, another fellow Templar agent. Fiora was of course the courtesan, though she had left that life long ago.

Fiora continued down the street when she instinctively glanced behind her. There, leaning on an alley wall not far from when she parted ways with Il Lupo, was the thief man from last night. His stance was casual, flipping a coin into the air over and over again, keeping his eyes on the coin. Fiora forced herself to take her gaze forward and to not visually react. Why was he here? Coincidence? To answer her question, the ex-courtesan took a sharp left into another street. The moment she broke his line of sight, she dashed into the nearest shop, which happened to be a tailor shop. Pressing close to the fabrics of the room, Fiora casually mimed searching through fabric as she kept her eyes on the window. Three seconds later, the thief man passed by, still flipping his coin and keeping his gait casual. But his eyes were sweeping the street, intently and swiftly. Fiora pressed herself further into the fabric. Thief man continued on, no sign of spotting her. She waited until he turned the corner before extricating herself from the fabric just as a young woman stepped forward.

"How may I help you, Signora?"

"You already have, cara mia," Fiora replied, patting her once on the cheek as she exited the building and left the young woman standing confused.

As she continued her way towards her destination, Fiora puzzled over the thief man. Had he followed her on his own volition or was he doing Il Volpe's dirty work? Part of her wanted to follow the thief man, see if he reported back or not. But she had to make a special visit today. Fiora did not know whether she would be able to visit again any time soon if she did not today. Shoving down her curiosity away, Fiora made her way back where she came and continued down the street until she found herself outside a blacksmith's shop possessing a lion holding a hammer in its mouth.

Fiora did not enter the shop from the front. Since the smithy was on the corner of the street, there was a side entrance that led into the courtyard. Besides, she was not here to visit the owner. Gently pushing open the gate, Fiora slipped inside. Usually when she came, the air was thick with heat from the furnace and the loud sound of metal crashing against metal filled the tiny courtyard. However, today the heat was not as intense and there was no sound ringing through the air. Was he not here? Rounding the furnace, Fiora came in full view of the workbench and found a young man hunched over, his hands busy with something she could not see. Fiora halted, smirked and then stepped as quietly as she could on the stone floor, sneaking past the furnace area to just behind the young man. Bringing her hands up to hover next to his sides, Fiora paused. The young man still worked, completely unaware of the dangers looming behind him. Fiora waited one more breath. Then pounced.

"Massi!" she yelled loudly in his ear, jabbing her fingers into the young man's sides.

Massimo cried out in surprise and sprung to his feet, tossing the instrument he had in his hand forward into the wall. The tool rebounded off the wall over their heads and as it clacked down onto the stone floor, he spun around to find Fiora doubled over with laughter.

"Fiora! I was working on something important!" Massimo cried, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he elbowed Fiora out of the way to get to his projectile tool.

Fiora continued to laugh as she struggled to speak. "Your face!" she choked out, one hand pointing at his face and the other clutching her burning stomach.

Massimo's eyebrows knitted together in disapproval as he watched his older sister chortle. Then, in a sudden desire for vengeance, he lunged for Fiora.

"Ack!" she exclaimed, who was too busy wiping tears from her eyes to dodges his attack.

Massimo wrapped his lean arms around Fiora, who began to fight the hold but quickly dissolved into more laughter as the young blacksmith began tickling her sides.

"How does vengeance feel, dear sister?!" yelled Massimo, a smile on his face as he wrestled to keep his control.

"No! Stop! Please!" Fiora gasped, fighting but having no strength to fight from her hard laughter.

"I'll stop once you say the words!"

"No!"

"Fine!"

The tickling intensified to an unbearable level.

"Massimo Cavazza…. is the most amazing… and handsome blacksmith… in on all of Roma!" she barely managed to say through loud bouts of laughter.

"Now see," Massi replied, ceasing his tickling but crushing Fiora in a strong hug from behind, "that is all you had to say for the torture to stop."

It was Fiora's turn for her eyebrows to knit together in mock disapproval and then promptly elbow her little brother in the ribs. Massi doubled over and laughed as he let go of her.

"You are only embarrassed that I manage to sneak up on you all the time," Fiora retorted, giving her younger brother a shove as she moved towards the workbench to see what called his intense focus.

"Yet, no matter how many times you do, I still win the fight," he smirked, up righting his stool that had been knocked over in the scuffle.

Fiora rolled her eyes and sent him a scowl, expecting his usually smirking face but found his countenance marked with concern.

"Sister…" he started, approaching and turning her body to face him," who did this to you?"

Fiora cocked her head in question and almost voiced her thoughts when his hand drifted slightly over her cheek. The one marked by Cesare. She sighed.

"It is nothing, brother," Fiora replied, pulling away from his touch to face the workbench. "A client was more intoxicated than he should have been."

She hated lying to Massi. Ever since she held her baby brother and watched their mother walk through the door, never to return, she vowed to give him a good life. Even if that meant the cost of her own. She never wanted to be a courtesan and she never wanted to kill another human being. Nevertheless, earning money and a life of security in this dark city was a luxury for the rich. Trying to move from the bottom to the top was impossible without sordid deeds and gambles. Fiora lead the life she lived for Massi. She dealt with Cesare's tantrums, killed those who owed money, and slept with greasy men to protect and uplift her brother's future. This meant there were many things she could not reveal and that there were deeds that left marks difficult to hide.

"Fiora, why do you subject yourself to such lowly work?" questioned Massi, turning her head towards him once more so he could examine her injury closer.

Massimo believed that she worked as a freelance hostess combined courtesan (which was not a complete lie) for the rich and powerful. It was the best excuse she could develop at the time for her sudden departure of the Rosa in Fiore.

"And what other work would I do, hm? I have no experience in any trade and have no intention of ever marrying," Fiora scoffed.

Deciding that a distraction from the topic was needed, Fiora swiped the strange weapon Massi was working on from the workbench.

"Hey!"

Fiora avoided his outreaching hands and backed away in an attempt to return to their playful banter.

"I just want to look at what distracted by baby brother so perfectly," Fiora said, dodging another lunge from Massi.

"Fiora, enough," Massi sighed, holding out his hand in a sign of peace but his body was still coiled for another attack. "That is the property of a client and I just barely figured out how to fix it."

"Very important is it?" Fiora teased, bringing up the mechanism up to her eyes for further examination. At first glance she thought it was strange but something familiar was in the mechanism design. Something…

"Careful-"

Fiora's thumb pressed into the edge of one side. Suddenly, a blade jutted out from the casing and almost removed her eye if she had not jerked her head backwards.

"See," Massi scolded, pulling the blade from her hands and situated himself back on his stool with his previously tossed tool.

Fortunately, her brother did not realize that there was more to her look of shock than a blade coming towards her eye. Her brother was working on an assassin's blade. Fiora walked to stand behind Massi as he worked, observing his cleaning and repairing of the blade. Did he know what this blade was?

"That is a rather unusual blade…" Fiora prompted, watching her brother's face carefully.

"Truly fascinating," agreed Massi, touching the same area Fiora's thumb accidentally nudged to sheath the blade. "I have never seen such a weapon before."

Relief eased Fiora's worry. He was not familiar with assassins' blades.

"Let me guess," Fiora started, leaning onto the workbench with her forearms," it was a smelly, old scholar with a strange fetish for pointy things."

Massimo laughed," Quite the opposite, actually."

"Oh? So it was tall, dark, and handsome with the perfume of his last conquest on his tunic?"

"I would not say tall…"

"Everyone is short to you, Massi," Fiora sighed.

"I cannot help my amazing height."

"Or deformity."

Massi jabbed his sharp instrument into her arm and she recoiled with a chuckle.

Tall, dark and handsome assassin asks Massimo to fix his blade…

Fiora could not help but be suspicious of Ezio Auditore. In supposed coincidences, she had already had three encounters with the master assassin. Perhaps curiosity drove him to investigate Fiora and he found Massimo. So far, Fiora had done well in hiding the existence of her baby brother from the assassins and the Templars. But Auditore was cunning and much smarter than the average assassin or Templar. She feared for his safety and if Auditore was trying to use Massi as leverage against her, she needed to keep her distance.

"Well, I must return to work," sighed Fiora, seeking a quick getaway and looking to the roofs for any signs of assassins.

Massi set down his instruments and turned to face her, his eyes intense and serious.

"Fiora, must you continue this work?" his voice was quiet and sincere.

She gave him a sad smile and touched his cheek.

"You have such a big heart, Massi. But I do this for us."

"Is that completely necessary anymore? I work enough that if done properly, you would not need to work." Massi's voice grew more passionate. It was clear he had put much thought into this.

In answer, Fiora pulled a coin pouch from her side and dropped it onto his workbench with a heavy thud. Neither of them needed to acknowledge that there was most likely 3 months of Massi's wages in her single week of work. Massi sighed and lowered his head. Heart full of care for the sibling she raised from birth, Fiora placed her hands on either side of his face and gently urged him to look at her.

"There will be a day that we will no longer struggle. However, until that day, peace and comfort is not something I have the luxury to possess."

Massi's eyes shifted away from her.

"You do not need to be the only one sacrificing, Fiora."

"And you are too good for this world, Massi."

His eyes returned to hers. Standing, her brother drew her into a strong hug, his tall form creating a sense of security.

"You know what needs to happen?" he said after time.

"Hm?" came Fiora's muffled reply.

"You just need to marry some old, fat noble and inherit his money when he dies."

Fiora laughed and playfully shoved Massi away.

"Call me shallow but I put a bit more importance in appearance than that."

"How about my tall, dark, and handsome client? Despite your speculation, he did not have any perfume coming off his tunic," Massi suggested, obnoxiously wagging his eyebrows. Fiora rolled her eyes. If Massi's client was indeed Auditore, Fiora could already see the smirk that would dominate the master assassin's face from this conversation.

"And how did you know that? Did you embrace him yourself?"

"I know a good man when I see one," teased Massimo as he returned to his seat.

"Hmm," hummed Fiora, not convinced, as she walked towards the courtyard entrance.

"I will make sure to mention you when he returns!" called Massi.

"He better be rich!" Fiora called back with a chuckle, opening the door to leave the light and enter a world of darkness and danger.

She did not get far from Massimo's shop before Fiora spotted another stalker. Dirty, faded clothes and twitchy fingers. Another thief. Fiora kept her lazy gait and followed the flow of the crowds, her eyes shifting all around and taking in the details. Almost every time her gaze slipped behind her, the boy panicked and was quick to hide. Too suspicious. Making sure the pathetic boy could see her, Fiora slipped into an empty alleyway. She was at the top of the ladder when she saw the dirty thief peeked his head into the alley and Fiora made sure he saw the tails of her tunic disappear onto the rooftop. She dashed behind a chimney as the ladder creaked and waited. The boy was breathing hard, half was probably from the effort to catch up to her and the other half of shear fear of losing her. The thief walked completely past her, unaware that his mark was no longer the hunted but the hunter. Terrible. This boy is absolutely terrible.

Fiora pounced. The boy thief was at the edge, peering over. He let out a shout of surprise as Fiora pushed him from behind, not enough to make him fall but enough to make him have to change his trousers later. The boy spun around and found the sharp edge of her fan under his adam's apple. Fiora smirked as she reached forward and gripped the front of his disgusting shirt.

"You, bambino," Fiora began as she apply pressure on the hand holding his shirt, making him swing his arms to keep his balance on the edge of the roof, "are terrible at trailing a mark. La Volpe is suppose to be the best thief in all of Italia! And yet his training has taught you nothing."

The boy's breath increased to hyperventilating as a smirk grew on Fiora's face. Since their meeting last night, Fiora had her suspicions about Ezio's friend Gilberto. A man in charge of so many thieves and such cunning eyes did not go without a moniker. Plus, Baltasar had found evidence that suggesred that the master thief was working with the assassins. This boy only confirmed her feelings.

"H-how did you know La Volpe sent me?"

"I did not know. But now I do."

The boy's breath increased to hyperventilating as a smirk grew on Fiora's face.

"And now I see it is not the training that failed you but your thick skull."

"P-p-please, spare me!"

Fiora rolled her eyes. La Volpe needs to be more selective about who he makes a thief.

"Alright… I will spare you," Fiora sighed but then pushed him a little further, his heels dangling off the edge. The boy grasped at her hand that held his shirt.

"At least, I will not kill you if you answer some of my questions… bambino."

The Master Assassin passed through the twilight crowds of Rome, traveling back to young blacksmith from earlier. His ability to move through crowds unnoticed was efficient, precise and habitual. And luckily for the latter, for Ezio's mind was far away from the current streets he passed through. His thoughts were dwelling over his visit to Rosa in Fiore.

"Claudia," Ezio said with a stiff nod to his sister, who returned an equally stiff nod as he entered the bordello.

Every part of his being disliked his family being here. First, they were ripped from their elegant home in Firenze to move to a dilapidated mansion in the country. And now, just after he finished the renovations to Monteriggioni and it was leveled by a Roman army. His family lowered themselves even more and found refuge in a bordello.

"Coming to check if I have run this place to the ground?" Claudia said with a clipped tone, writing quickly into her many books.

"I do not think that you cannot run this place, Claudia. I just wish it was not my baby sister running it," replied Ezio.

Of course that comment ended up in a heated argument that Ezio's mother had intervened and placated her two children. Again. Ezio let out a sigh. He needed a drink. A strong one. Maybe a woman to go with it. Fiora's smirking face entered his mind then and the corner of his mouth twitch upwards into a smirk of his own. He did need to visit the minx and uphold their bet. As Ezio rounded the corner and drew near to the blacksmith, his revelry was suddenly halted as he heard shouting coming from Massimo's shop. Angry shouting. And then there was a clash of metal on metal. The Master Assassin instantly crouched low and quietly but swiftly made his way to the back wooden gate and peered through the cracks of the planks.

"No more!" shouted Massimo as he lunged for a Borgia guard, brandishing his blade with surprising accuracy and pierced one man through the stomach.

Unfortunately, there were four others. Ezio did not take anymore time to assess the situation before he started to climb the shop's walls, deftly pulling himself up onto the roof and moving to the edge connected to the back of shop. Massimo was miraculously fending the four guards off but was purely on the defense. His form was decent but it was clear that he was still a novice. To the side of the guards lay the master of the shop, bruised and beaten. Not dead but clearly immobile and unconscious. Ezio raised his arm, preparing his strike before silently cursing. His assassin's blade was on the blacksmith's table. Quickly opting for a dagger at his side, the assassin leaped. The rush of falling had always been something Ezio enjoyed. Even now, his adrenaline spiked and his focus sharpened from his descent, his heart leaping as he fell. Without warning, Ezio plunged his dagger into the nearest Borgia guard's spine. The guard instantly crumpled under the assassin's weight and Ezio rolled to the side, swiping viciously at the next guard's hamstrings. This guard instantly buckled and cried out in pain. The other two guards and Massimo were both shocked by the sudden appearance of another fighter, watching the second guard fall and die with a dagger in his chest. Massimo, recognizing Ezio, recovered quickly and used the master assassin's sudden appearance to plunged his sword into the stomach of the closest guard. Ezio straightened as the third guard fell and the last living guard's eyes widened in panic.

"Assassino… " the guard whispered and then began to stumble away toward the wooden gate.

But he was too slow. Ezio only had to take two large strides before leaping onto the guards back, driving his dagger into the base of the neck as he used his weight to bring the man down. He was dead before he hit the floor. The master assassin slowly withdrew his blade and stood, turning to face the young blacksmith. Massimo was breathing hard and holding his side, his gaze watching Ezio with both caution and awe. The master of the shop groaned suddenly and the young man's attention instantly went to his mentor.

"Mentore!"

Massimo rushed to his mentor's side and dropped his blade.

"Massimo?" the old man choked, holding a hand to his head and the other for the young blacksmith.

"Careful, Mentore. We were attacked by the Borgia guards again."

The old man spat very colorful curse words that made Ezio smirked as he wandered over to the guards and started to search the bodies. Perhaps there was something useful amongst these useless men.

"I have had enough of these cordardi! Attacking me while my back is turned. Tu!" And the old man spit onto the ground, crimson with blood, as Massimo helped him to his feet.

"They are getting bolder and more aggressive each time," Massimo muttered, reaching to drape one of his mentor's arms over his shoulders but the old man forcefully pulled away from the young man and stubbornly stood on his own.

"And now they will bring more!" the old man gestured to the dead guards on the ground.

"I can see to it that they do not," replied Ezio, stepping forward and pocketing a letter from one of the bodies into his tunic.

The old man eyed Ezio, his wizen looks combined with blood giving him a fierce scowl.

"What are you doing here?" spat the old man accusingly.

"He helped, mentore. He is the one that fell these guards," Massimo answered, looking to the dead bodies.

"Not all of them. Your apprentice has a talent for the blade," Ezio said, nodding to Massimo who looked down at his boots.

"Only because he play fights out here like a small child half the time," the old man grunted, giving a look to Massimo that Ezio recognized from his mother often giving it to him. Exasperation and affection. "How do you propose to fix this? You cannot explain away five dead guards."

"You are correct," Ezio agreed, stepping closer to the two blacksmiths. "But a few lies can cover the truth."

The old man's eyes narrowed. "Go on…"

"Blame your irrational apprentice. Anger got the best of him and by the time you entered the back, the boy had killed the guards."

Massimo's eyes widened. "But… It was not my fault!" cried the young man.

"Quiet, boy. He is not finished," the old man said sharply.

Ezio continued, "Tell the guards that your apprentice ran off after you discovered him and you have no idea where he went."

The master assassin turned to the young blacksmith and approached him. "Did the unjust actions of the guards anger you?"

Massimo seemed taken aback by the question and sudden shift of topic but answered, "Of course."

"Why did you fight them?"

"Someone must. I could not let-" Massimo paused and his eyes flicked to his mentor. "I could not let them kill an innocent man. I could not sit by and watch."

Ezio nodded and then turned back to the old man.

"With your permission, I ask you to release the boy of his duties and let me take him with me. I can make use of him and his skills."

The old man made no move to speak. He simply looked from Ezio to the young man and back.

"I know who you are, assassino," the old man grunted and at the mention of assassino Massimo's head jerked to Ezio.

"Assassino?" Massimo whispered and then a look of realization crossed his features as his eyes flicked to the assassin blade on his workbench.

"I know your cause," the old man continued as if Massimo had not spoken," I have heard the rumors. If I understand you correctly, you desire to recruit my apprentice to your cause."

Ezio nodded. The old man stood in silence again, his eyes never leaving Ezio's as if he were trying to read the master assassin's mind.

"Take him."

The old man looked once at his shocked and confused apprentice and then turned, entering the shop and closing it sharply behind him.

"Do I not have a choice?"

Ezio turned to Massimo and saw the fierceness of youth in his features. He too once looked like that, right before he left Florence forever.

"You always have a choice, Massimo. But I offer you a way to save those innocents you desire to protect. Do you have family?"

Massimo's eyes shifted towards his workbench. Ezio followed is gaze to a large pouch on the table.

"I have a sister."

"Do you desire to protect her from these men? What if she had been here?"

Surprisingly, Massimo smiled faintly. "Honestly, she would have struck down all these men before I could even draw my sword. Where do you think I learned to fight?"

Ezio smiled at the mental picture. Strangely, he imagined Fiora dancing and striking these guards.

"But… I am tired of sitting back and watching my sister-" the young man stopped and his features hardened into determination. He walked over to the workbench, grabbing Ezio's blade and walked back. He thrust out the blade for Ezio and his eyes lit with the fires of purpose.

"I will join you and your cause."

Ezio smirked.

"Welcome to the Brotherhood, Massimo…"

"Cavazza. Massimo Cavazza."

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Big thanks to EverMystical, lilbobcatgrl88, and Inquisitek for reviewing! Another big thanks to xXxDragonxPhoenixXx, icevsfire721, Antyto-sama, HyGamr, chickadeebabe, emj0515, wag11137, Inquisitek, deadlydeerman, midm922, Sinbad729, AlchemistLyn and EagleEye505 for the follows!