[msmelissalin]

"If I have any brain damage, it's because one of your men took a baseball bat to my face," Melissa gave him a slow once over. The visual of Étienne's face still haunted her and crept up her spine at the proximity of Oliver. Don't say a word. It echoed through her mind, but she pushed it down. "Mr Parra, I don't do laxed punctuality. I didn't get to where I am by doing so." There was so much she shouldn't say. She could feel it in the hairs that stood on the back of her neck. "Am I going to be subject to outrageous insults the entire trip, or have you forgotten what it's like to be a human being?"

[aurelieparra]

"Good. They're learning."

Did she honestly believe he cared enough to have a solitary fucking second spare to hear about her self proclaimed success? Work ethic? Oliver's work ethic started and ended with the same fucking baseball bat that'd apparently made her such a joy to talk to. Same result in the end though, huh? Better for him, actually...

"Of course, of course. How exactly did you get to where you are, then? Was it Andrew or Johnathan who saw you on your knees first?"

A confused shrug. A moment spent hoping she'd just walk the fuck away.

"Yes. Frankly, I find it remarkably tone-deaf that you seemed irritated by that, instead of grateful that I'm limiting the abuse to verbal."

[laurent--stpierre]

@maksimkurylenko Event: Valentine's Day Auction. Time: After Party.

The after party was in full swing. People were too distracted with their own shit, their own drinks, their faltering fucking relationships...nobody was paying attention to anything outside of the bubble. They were the types that never really did, anyway. Finding him in the crowd was easy, because the creepy little scarecrow fuck stood out like a sore thumb amongst other, normal human beings.

If he'd thought he wouldn't notice earlier, he was wrong.

The two had already clashed over Maksim's inability to keep away from his very-uninvolved-in-mob-shit partner, and yet still, he'd sought her out pre-auction to taunt her. And this is why the Russians would never fucking learn. They always had to make shit personal. Weaving through a few drunk hookers, the Frenchman subtly switched his two Commandant rings onto his right hand.

"I warned you to stay away from Leyla. Evidently, you're too dumb a cunt to listen."

The Russian hardly had time to acknowledge he was being addressed before Laurent's silver and gold adorned fist collided hard with his jaw. Enough to do real damage? Nah. He wasn't looking to get kicked out. Enough to send him stumbling a few steps back into the bar, the girls around him shrieking in surprise? Yes.

"Next time, I'll kick your fucking teeth down your throat."

[maksimkurylenko]

Maksim, in retrospect, ought to have possessed the sagacity to learn not to push his luck when it came to taunting Laurent further. Lest their last interaction hadn't been lesson enough. The term 'dumb fuck' wasn't new to him.

The conversation at hand had dulled out, his acquaintances peeling off to find people they'd much rather talk with. He didn't blame them, his tastes were better suited to his own kind. And small talk had never been his forte.

He didn't see it coming.

A searing flame of pain coiled in his jaw. Metal upon the cheek. He faltered, taking an initial stumble, followed by a subsequent one. The surrounding crowd became that of ear-wrenching screeches and gasps.

Fucking St. Pierre.

His hand instinctively sought his jaw, clasping it tightly as an impulsive guffaw burst forth from his mouth. The metallic tang of blood lingered on his palate, his inside cheek bitten. "I've been told my listening skills aren't half bad," Tone mocked, as his tongue flashed over white teeth to test their strength as he stood to his full height. "I just don't listen to fuckin' frogs."

Leyla was simply entertainment.

"Careful, Laurent." His tone lowered. He knew he could fight better than most of this fucking room. Maksim had to make the call for Aviv's backup the last time. "Your henchmen look like they wanna' get involved. And that'd be good for no one." It was testing, his own hands curling into fists at his side.

"Scared of a little competition? Never thought you the type to worry." His head cocked to the side with a grin. "Though maybe you're overcompensating for something else? It's okay, you'll get over it."

[aurelieparra]

"You're right, it would be good for no one. Especially bad for you, though."

Given how the Russians liked to treat the people the French held most dear, a lesson he'd learned in the most soul-destroying way imaginable, asking for the mouth breather to keep distance from his partner seemed a reasonable request. Then again, could the uncivilised understand reasonable?

Oliver looked at the Kurylenko. Imagined his ugly head on an Auditore pike.

"It's paint, not blood, before anyone asks..." Definitely wasn't. Cigarette between his teeth, brushing awkwardly at the front of his Tom Ford, he turned to look at his best friend, confusion apparent: "Scared of a little competition? Him?" The Parisian scoffed. "You pitiful, projecting little Russki fuck. You wouldn't know confidence if it showed up in a blood stained jacket and told you to choke on its dick. Run along before I start overcompensating for the fact you inbreds murdered my wife."

[msmelissalin]

"It has me questioning why you, a man of such..." she paused, her lips pulling into a soured expression. "refined taste, would pick something so — you put it 'utterly fucking worthless'?"

[aurelieparra]

"The brain damage isn't helping your valuation, Melissa. If I'd known it was you, I'd have checked for ten cents down the back of the sofa and hoped for the best, not dropped fifty big ones. Even for a man with more money than God, you're an embarrassing investment. As this thing is in motion, though, how about you try not to be fucking late. Perhaps something productive will come of it."

[aurelieparra]

@msmelissalin Event: Valentine's Day Auction. Time: After Party.

"The irony of bidding so much on something so utterly fucking worthless."

[aurelieparra]

For: @lismarstclair​ Time: After party.

It was so nice to be at a party where she could actually party. No part of her begrudged her children, but she sure did begrudge having to do these things sober whilst she was giving them fucking life. But now she had enough gin to sink the ship, and Oliver was staying relatively sober in case of a situation arising, and she finally felt as though she could let her hair down. Seeking out Lisette and making sure she was feeling the same was a necessity. 

"Okay, I’m drunk, and I’m going to need you to also be very drunk so that I don’t have to feel bad about making questionable decisions. Thank you for your understanding.”

[aurelieparra]

mrofontaine​:

‘‘Probably not the smartest move, huh.’‘ Olivier muttered, practically quaking in his boots. ‘’I’m too fucked for this — ‘’ Yeah, fucked because he was certain he was going to die. ‘’I’m just gonna…’’ He made to walk past him.

.

“I’m talking to you. And I missed the part where I said I was finished.”

The insolence was fucking baffling.

“Sit down before I make you sit down.”

[aurelieparra]

mrofontaine​:

He knew that voice. 

Even worse he feared the man that came with that voice. 

Olivier felt like a teenage boy who’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, although instead of an angry father and a promise of a punishment that name came, it was a man he knew who had no care for making promises he wouldn’t keep. The sound of Varden’s last name on the others tongue had his eyes fluttering shut while nostrils flared.

Looking over his suit clad shoulder he met eyes of similar blue. 

‘‘Apparently getting his sister pregnant wasn’t on their agenda for this year.’’

.

“That’s the attitude you feel like running with?”

[aurelieparra]

For: @mrofontaine​​ Time: After party.

Winning Family of the Year was a fucking message. It was almost enough to detract from the embarrassing display made by some of the other absolute reprobates he begrudged associating with said family at all. Almost. Even though his wife had warned him to behave tonight, and even though the drinks were flowing just easily enough to take the edge off his mood, there were still a few that would’ve benefitted from avoiding him entirely. Oliver already resented sharing his fucking oxygen. 

This man who’d been unlucky enough to stumble into his path, one of them.

"Heard you’re on Lefebvre’s shit list now. Specialist.”

[aurelieparra]

Aurélie St. Clair attends The London Awards After Party. Date: Friday, March 31st, 2023. Escorted By: Oliver Parra.

[aurelieparra]

For: @leylayilmazx​ Time: pre-awards.

As soon as she’d caught sight of Laurent St. Pierre in all his pink glory, she’d almost thrown a champagne flute right at his blinding head. Then she saw Leyla not far behind him. Apparently, this was a co-ordinated attack. The idiot sure had found his match, in more ways than one...but at least she’d committed the crime relatively tastefully.

“I regret to inform you I’m going to murder the father of your child.”

[aurelieparra]

lefebvre-emilia​:

Emilia felt her body stiffen at the sight of Aurélie there. She knew the woman would be at the event, but perhaps they would not run into each other. Their families have been intermixed on a more personal level and she knew the heartache that came with the death of Emily. 

She knew what it did to her brother. 

“You look lovely.” Which was the truth. The blonde always did. 

“I hope it isn’t a interesting a night.” She knew some of the awards she was nominated for and would rather not win any of them. Her eyes flicker down to her stomach and can’t help but let out a small sigh. “I didn’t mean to hurt or upset anyone.” There is almost a defeated tone in her voice. 

.

“Thank you. Chanel always does an impeccable job."

When the woman before her reiterated that she hadn’t intended for any of this to unfold the way it had, to a degree, she could empathise. Perhaps that was why she was holding back when she usually would’ve defended the man like nobody else.

“I know that. That doesn’t mean it didn’t upset and hurt people, though...” It was said gently. Meant as a quiet reminder that apologies were good, but people weren’t obliged to accept them just because they were offered. “Your brother is having a difficult time right now. You and I both know he’ll move past all of this eventually, but please, tread carefully in the meantime. Be patient with him, and let him deal with it on his own time. Pushing him now might only push him away.”

[aurelieparra]

lefebvre-emilia​:

@mobscene-starters​ Time: Pre-Awards

Emilia sat in the car, the driver opening the door for her and she took a deep breath. Once she stepped out and all eyes were on her, there would be no turning back. She didn’t hide it from social media, but all would know. Her life could be in more danger, but the amount of bodyguards she had, along with Lisette’s, they would well protected. 

The blonde slides out of the car, camera’s flashing in her direction and her hands smoothed over her growing belly and down the dress. We got this. Peyton was waiting for her and she didn’t like to keep people waiting. 

Each step she felt her confidence grow and the smile on her face widen. She was after all Emilia Lefebvre. She stopped at the top, letting a few pictures be taken of her before she stepped inside, letting out a breath of air. “I feel more relaxed away from the cameras.” She mutters to herself, letting her gaze drift around the room in awe, landing on someone a few feet from her. 

“This will be an interesting night.” 

.

“You look lovely, Emilia.”

It wasn’t the typically warm greeting she’d usually offer the woman, in spite of her best efforts. Aurélie’s relationship with the Lefebvre family had existed for as long as she could remember; the fondness she had for them only peaking when her mother had been set to marry Varden. The man was still like a father to her, even after all the years without her, and even with all the distance between them. 

Perhaps that’s why she was so protective of him.

Emilia hadn’t done anything unforgiveable, but she hadn’t exactly given him the easiest ride since she’d arrived in London. That, she knew for sure. Aurélie didn’t want to set her night off on a sour note, but as she seemed incapable of behaving when it was asked of her by others, maybe she would listen to her.

“I’d say I hope not too interesting, but I know that ship has already sailed.”

[aurelieparra]

Aurélie St. Clair attends The London Awards @ The Royal Albert Hall. Date: Friday, March 31st, 2023. Escorted By: Oliver Parra.

[aurelieparra]

@AurelieStClair: Bienvenue, Benoît. 💙 [22/11/22]

[aurelieparra]

etiennecanet​:

“Yes.” 

It wasn’t only an order coming from both of his bosses; it was also something he wanted to do himself. Étienne’s blood boiled by the sol fact that not only the people who signed up for it died, but the people who were associated with them, too. They had done nothing wrong, just exist simultaneously in the same world. The Russians had always been heartless, and this was to be expected, however it was still something he wanted to be paid for. And when he got angry, he really got angry. A few people knew, the woman will soon find out. 

“I am already looking and no matter how, I will find her.” 

He was grateful for Aurélie, always had been as he held so much respect for her. He understood her and followed both her and Oliver because he believed in them and their capabilities. He had never questioned them, nor he believed there would ever be a time where he would need to. 

Placing his hand over hers, he turned to her, nodding gratefully. “Thank you, I know you did. I won’t make the same mistake twice and will not let you down.” 

.

“I know you won’t.”

Because she knew Étienne understood there was no such thing as a third chance.

Not when it came to something like this.

After a silent moment, now conscious her hand was still beneath his, Aurélie withdrew with from the Commandant with a small smile. Perhaps not all of her concerns were appeased, but for now, she was content that her message was heard loud and clear. The woman had faith he would not fall short of her husband’s expectations. Once she was on her feet and ready to leave, she spoke up one last time:

“Can I ask one more thing of you?” It hardly mattered what his answer was when she was going to go ahead and ask anyway... “I know you and Laurent are friends. And as much as he likes to downplay my concerns about him being in the same city as Konstantin Vorshevsky, I am concerned. As I am about his sudden interest in Hackney. Would you please keep an eye on him? Make sure he’s not being...reckless.”

[aurelieparra]

msmelissalin​:​

‘‘You’re a hard woman to get a meeting with.’‘ Melissa states, taking a seat with the same poise she kept with all the people in her own organization. She never faltered, especially not now. ‘’However, I thought woman to woman we may be able to cut through this bullshit.’’

.

“That would be because my time is valuable, Ms. Lin. Don’t waste it.”

The audacity alone—to reach out after everything that’d happened and request a meeting—was just curious enough for Aurélie to spare her an audience. Perhaps, they should’ve thought about cutting through the bullshit, woman to woman, before her ex-husband gunned down several of her unarmed Commandants in Porto Velho.

“What is it that you want?”

[aurelieparra]

theo-chaussard​:

“I know, but vengeance can also be a tool that we’re using, if it’s aimed correctly. And considering that the Russians have been trying to start trafficking the Vixens into B-Girls again, having one of the dancers act as protection is in Cece’s best interest, considering that we’re going to need all of our soldiers elsewhere,” Théo pointed out. 

The Hathaways were hurting just as much as they were in London, and the more that he could do to help Vixen the better. It was in his territory, so it took it personally when things went wrong. And there was only so much security he could beef up, cameras that he could install - but whenever things went bad and they were pulled otherwise the Russians always seemed to strike. Having someone there gave them a better chance of it not happening again. And again. And again. 

“Melissa Lin and Konstantin Vorshevsky decided to pay me a joint visit where they both let me know that they’re going be coming after us. Hard. And while the warning was unnecessary, we need more people who are going to fight that fire with fire.  I’m just so ready to watch this stupid city burn for all the losses we’ve taken, and with our enemies announcing they’re planning on making us take more, and that they’re making the fight personal, I think it’s only fair that we fight with the same energy and anger.” 

.

Vengeance can also be a tool, if it’s aimed correctly.

It felt like a particularly condescending and flippant explanation when she’d seen it rip her own family apart. As if she didn’t know first hand the fucking power said ‘tool’ wielded. How it consumed people who deserved better.

Aurélie did him the courtesy of ignoring everything that’d just come out of his mouth.

“I’m not happy about this, and you can consider this me making that abundantly clear to you. But I trust your judgement. I always have, and you know that.” Yet, the sense of a ‘but’ loomed over her concession: “That said, if anything happens to this woman, it’s your responsibility and yours alone to deal with the consequences, Théo. Should Cecelia come knocking, I’ll throw you under the bus a lot faster than you did Étienne.”