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Paradisa, unknown.
That night, Stephanie surprises Ezio by climbing into bed with him. She straddles his hips and he immediately presses up against her, and with her weight leant forward on her hands, her blonde hair falls around their faces in a sheet.
"As sudden as this is, I like this," he grins, before capturing her in a hard kiss. One of his hands finds the side of her face, the other on her waist. She indulges him for a moment, pressing back just as hard, but then breaks off. She shifts her weight so that she can take his wrist with her free hand. There's a blush around her cheeks, but everything else about her says confidence.
"Hands up," she says, forcing his hand over his head. He laughs, indulging her by putting his other hand up, too, and she reaches behind herself and pulls a pair of handcuffs out of the back of her jeans. He grins up at her, clearly excited, and she threads the chain through the bars of the headboard before locking his wrists in.
"Really?" Ezio says, squirming comfortably underneath her. "This is how you would have our first time? Not that I'm complaining, but..."
"No. We just need to talk about something," she says.
Ezio looks up at her, incredulously.
"Now? Really?" he asks.
Stephanie nods, sitting up. She folds her arms, but the way she balances her weight against his pelvis tells him she doesn't intend on letting him go anywhere.
"Can you blame me? Every time we've had this conversation, you get annoyed and blow it off. Excuse me if pinning you to the bed by your dick is the only way to get you to stay here."
"You could have given me release first," Ezio replies, somewhat bitterly. He considers what too many people had warned him in the past decade: making yourself easy was making yourself an easy target. "But alright. You have my full attention."
She bounces on him, a little hard, and he closes his eyes for a second.
"Most of it, anyway," he corrects himself, through gritted teeth.
"Right," she replies. "I've known you for three years now and the only topic you ever avoid with me is who you intend to kill. For good reason, I get that, and I don't always want to know, but you get why I have to be suspicious when Juan Borgia goes missing, right? That's not surprising to you?"
Ezio frowns.
"So? Stephanie, you cannot truly expect me to know everything that dog does. I don't track his every movement."
"You definitely do," Stephanie replies. "You think you cover all your tracks, but you don't. I know what you're doing every time you hunt through the journals and stop when you find him, or when you eavesdrop on his conversations. You do the same with Cesare and Lucrezia, which is no less creepy, by the way."
"Looking through the journals is not stalking," Ezio argues.
"When you look that hard, it's stalking," Stephanie says, firmly. "I just want to know the truth: did you kill Juan?"
The tone of her voice told him that she was already convinced, and only wanted confirmation. Ezio racks his mind –– how would she have found out? He'd taken care to throw out the bloodied shirt, he'd cleaned up the mess best he could. The couch had been replaced entirely, but that was hardly cause to believe a murder had taken place in his room.
"Well?" Stephanie prompts.
"He's dead," he replies.
Stephanie pauses.
"And who killed him?"
Ezio's eyes narrow.
"Me."
Stephanie hits him, thumping him hard on the chest, and suddenly she's angry.
"What the hell is your problem!? Setting aside how wrong that is, you know he'll come back in two weeks, and you'll be in a world of trouble. Do you think he won't tell Cesare or Lucrezia? You realize how much they'll hate you?"
"Cesare already hates me," Ezio argues, dismissively. "And--"
"And Lucrezia? She's not going to blithely ignore this. Juan's a jerk, but he doesn't deserve to die."
"Lucrezia tried to kill Juan herself. I doubt she cares."
Stephanie scowls and climbs off of him. Ezio shifts, raising his head to see over his own arm, and he watches her pace. Every step is frustrated.
"What do you expect to do about it, beyond lecture me?" Ezio asks, finally. "You said you'd intervene if I tried to kill someone, and you failed. You've already lost."
Stephanie turns to look at him, mouth hanging open a bit, and she seems to fumble with what to say. Then, annoyed, she announces: "You know what? I'm going to leave you here to think about what you did. Really think about it. Have a nice night, Ezio."
And then she storms out.
That night, Stephanie surprises Ezio by climbing into bed with him. She straddles his hips and he immediately presses up against her, and with her weight leant forward on her hands, her blonde hair falls around their faces in a sheet.
"As sudden as this is, I like this," he grins, before capturing her in a hard kiss. One of his hands finds the side of her face, the other on her waist. She indulges him for a moment, pressing back just as hard, but then breaks off. She shifts her weight so that she can take his wrist with her free hand. There's a blush around her cheeks, but everything else about her says confidence.
"Hands up," she says, forcing his hand over his head. He laughs, indulging her by putting his other hand up, too, and she reaches behind herself and pulls a pair of handcuffs out of the back of her jeans. He grins up at her, clearly excited, and she threads the chain through the bars of the headboard before locking his wrists in.
"Really?" Ezio says, squirming comfortably underneath her. "This is how you would have our first time? Not that I'm complaining, but..."
"No. We just need to talk about something," she says.
Ezio looks up at her, incredulously.
"Now? Really?" he asks.
Stephanie nods, sitting up. She folds her arms, but the way she balances her weight against his pelvis tells him she doesn't intend on letting him go anywhere.
"Can you blame me? Every time we've had this conversation, you get annoyed and blow it off. Excuse me if pinning you to the bed by your dick is the only way to get you to stay here."
"You could have given me release first," Ezio replies, somewhat bitterly. He considers what too many people had warned him in the past decade: making yourself easy was making yourself an easy target. "But alright. You have my full attention."
She bounces on him, a little hard, and he closes his eyes for a second.
"Most of it, anyway," he corrects himself, through gritted teeth.
"Right," she replies. "I've known you for three years now and the only topic you ever avoid with me is who you intend to kill. For good reason, I get that, and I don't always want to know, but you get why I have to be suspicious when Juan Borgia goes missing, right? That's not surprising to you?"
Ezio frowns.
"So? Stephanie, you cannot truly expect me to know everything that dog does. I don't track his every movement."
"You definitely do," Stephanie replies. "You think you cover all your tracks, but you don't. I know what you're doing every time you hunt through the journals and stop when you find him, or when you eavesdrop on his conversations. You do the same with Cesare and Lucrezia, which is no less creepy, by the way."
"Looking through the journals is not stalking," Ezio argues.
"When you look that hard, it's stalking," Stephanie says, firmly. "I just want to know the truth: did you kill Juan?"
The tone of her voice told him that she was already convinced, and only wanted confirmation. Ezio racks his mind –– how would she have found out? He'd taken care to throw out the bloodied shirt, he'd cleaned up the mess best he could. The couch had been replaced entirely, but that was hardly cause to believe a murder had taken place in his room.
"Well?" Stephanie prompts.
"He's dead," he replies.
Stephanie pauses.
"And who killed him?"
Ezio's eyes narrow.
"Me."
Stephanie hits him, thumping him hard on the chest, and suddenly she's angry.
"What the hell is your problem!? Setting aside how wrong that is, you know he'll come back in two weeks, and you'll be in a world of trouble. Do you think he won't tell Cesare or Lucrezia? You realize how much they'll hate you?"
"Cesare already hates me," Ezio argues, dismissively. "And--"
"And Lucrezia? She's not going to blithely ignore this. Juan's a jerk, but he doesn't deserve to die."
"Lucrezia tried to kill Juan herself. I doubt she cares."
Stephanie scowls and climbs off of him. Ezio shifts, raising his head to see over his own arm, and he watches her pace. Every step is frustrated.
"What do you expect to do about it, beyond lecture me?" Ezio asks, finally. "You said you'd intervene if I tried to kill someone, and you failed. You've already lost."
Stephanie turns to look at him, mouth hanging open a bit, and she seems to fumble with what to say. Then, annoyed, she announces: "You know what? I'm going to leave you here to think about what you did. Really think about it. Have a nice night, Ezio."
And then she storms out.