hailstorm.

[bulletwnds]

MORENA AGUIRRE (30. informant for the contingency . eva de dominici.)

introduction. wanted connections. appearance. musings.

ROSALIA GALANIS (35. heist team for the reserve. melissa barrera.)

introduction. wanted connections. appearance. musings.

[fatalisms]

He had never seen a reflection of his own self in Rosa as clearly as the woman who faced him now, wrapped in cunning and sensuality, wisps of smoke tangling with diamonds and satin, suffocating enough to bring a man to his knees. Were she simply an intoxicated patron with a penchant for petty theft, or merely a low-level thug tasked with the impossible in order to move up the ranks, Alessandro would have had his knife in her side, cutting into flesh until his mother's necklace found its way back into the safety of his own, bloodied hands. But she was neither of those things, nor was she someone he could touch without repercussion, both as her employer and her colleague within the Reserve. And so, his hands, all at once aching for vengeance and restrained by respect, released her body and remained tight fists in his pockets, weighing him down from his usual lofty place of control to a ground upon which he was now expected to beg.

A derisive scoff rang out, immediately incredulous at her demand delivered with that sinful smile. His dark gaze regarded her with momentary humor, but any comedy in his mind dried up at the taste of serious intent on her tongue, rendering her words not a teasing request, but an outright command. "Rosa..." The man started, only to be cut off by his own words fed back to him, and he couldn't help but wonder — had he created this monster, or had she been in there all along?

His body was tense at the thought of being forced on his hands and knees in an act of dramatic repentence, particularly with the threat of the Marquee's cameras and his staff trickling it at any moment. The thought rendered him shaky, off-kilter, abandoning his suave sophistication in favor of a bite to the inner part of his cheek, careful to prevent himself from speaking aloud something he knew he'd regret. With a sigh, he reluctantly acquiesced, "It does look good on you, Rosalia. But I'd rather see you honor it properly and wear it as my mother would. On your neck or nowhere at all."

[bulletwnds]

Her gaze flicked over the man with a softness that she'd perfected throughout the years. It was in her gaze that she held all the cunning sharpness and the threat, which most men tended to ignore for the sake of racking their gaze down upon every delicate and sharp curve of her figure. Part of her wondered how many of her past targets would have been able to save themselves the trouble had they simply paid more attention and remarked that the woman who was fawning over them was far from ditzy, clueless, and interested. No, there was a clear plan. There always was.

"I didn't ask what you would prefer." The dynamic shifted from employee and employer to something more intangible. A shift that could knock them both down if not played carefully but Rosa was never one to back down from a bit of amusement and this was providing her with a thrill she hadn't found in weeks. "It's mine to do with as I please now unless you show me exactly how far you're willing to go to have your precious necklace returned." Perhaps she should have felt bad that the heavy piece that draped her thigh belonged to his mother but she was more interested in the lengths he would go to have it returned to its rightful owner.

She leaned closer to him and the once soft smile turned more sinister. There was no hiding now. No need to. He knew who she was and who she worked for — what she was capable of. "I think you need to beg and be more convincing. There's already a buyer interested in the diamonds, though I believe they mentioned that the necklace itself was outdated and boring so the intent was to take the diamonds apart and put them in another arrangement." Her fingers ran over the diamond necklace, peering down with a sense of pity almost. They truly were beautiful. "Maybe you should get on your knees and put some oomph into it."

[aylademirci]

Location: Central Park & open @pantheonhqstarters

There was a heat wave in New York and somehow that just felt right, as if the Demircis had brought a little bit of Miami up north along with them. As accustomed as she was to rising temperatures, even she had to admit it was a bit much, but she refused to stay shut up inside when there was so much ground to cover. Ayla was making it her mission to become as familiar with her new city as possible; knowledge was power, and her family needed all the power they could get as they took on the various factions surrounding them. Still, it was too nice of a day to spend all of her time working.

A group of laughing children came running across the grass and Ayla jumped out of the way just in time to avoid being run over. She had to smile as she watched them pass, trying to remember what it had been like to be that young and carefree. Not that she had ever really been carefree. She continued walking until she found a shady spot underneath a tree, then laid a blanket out on the ground. She had just sat down when she sensed somebody approaching. "Great minds, huh?" She popped her sunglasses up onto the top of her head and looked up to catch their eye. "Don't tell me I've stolen your spot."

[bulletwnds]

Ren had taken a few weeks off of work and from being out on the town in order to regain some semblance of normalcy in her life. After being ordered to provide a schedule that belonged to the councilman, she couldn't find herself doing anything other than obsessing over the news in fear that perhaps it would be used to hurt or kill the man. When nothing came, and the days slowly trickled by, she found herself refusing to sit at home and obsess over the ifs, whens, and potential outcomes.

"It looked like such a beautiful day that it would be a crime to stay inside." She placed her blanket down and pulled out a bottle of rose she'd shoved in a bag. A bit of day drinking felt like the quickest way to calm her nerves and if she did it in public rather than in the depths of her dark home, it felt a little less depressing. "I didn't bring two glasses but I can share." The bottle itself wasn't necessarily large so two large glasses was all it would hold. "I'll pour your glass and I'll have the bottle. If you're interested."

[fatalisms]

His eyes, all the more darkened by the swift violence that preceded her words, fixed onto her as she remained unmoved from her spot, mischief and revenge interlacing to form a pretty twist of a smile at her lips. For a moment, he was almost transfixed, brows knitting together in approving surprise at her apparent steadiness, one proven even more grounded as she named her request.

"With pleasure, princess," Achillas snarked back, combat-booted heel rolling from the back of the first thug's knees to his shaking feet, back and forth with varying degrees of pressure until he bent one ankle to the point of a break and kicked the back of the other leg's knee, hard enough to elicit a groan of pain and panic. "Now run," he whispered to the man, threat barely bitten back by teeth honed on brutality. Blood was in the air tonight; the soldier felt it with every sense afforded to him, that particular thirst for vengeance denied ringing in his ears as his grip on the other thug tightened. By now, the guy was a whimpering mess of himself, his pleas of mercy falling on intentionally deafened ears as Achillas shushed him like a parent to an irascible child. "We still got ourselves a chatty fuckin' Cathy, huh." With that, one heavy hand punched hard against his cheek, his Adam's apple, and finally his diaphragm, until the man was fully bowed over, choking on his own air. "You wanted mercy, yeah? Ten fingers, ten toes — and now, ten seconds to catch up to your friend over there. Ten... Nine..."

'Six' barely left his lips before the man caught enough of his breath and hobbled his way out of sight, and Achillas tore his gaze from the work of his hands and feet to the woman who, miraculously, remained planted amidst the open display of violence. Dark eyes gave her a once-over as he spun the pocketknife of her would-be assailant with his index finger, pointing it at the leg that launched a 3am alleyway scuffle. "You gonna buy me a thank-you gift with those diamonds strapped to your thigh, or what?"

[bulletwnds]

The grin that appeared on her expression when she heard the grunts and painful sounds escaping each men as skin met skin with enough force that made her cheeks feel like they were splitting in half. There was something delicious about being able to standby while someone else did the dirty work.

The sight of them being beaten and battered wasn't nearly as pleasant as watching the men stumble away in an attempt to run for their lives, sliding across the surface of the concrete, collecting themselves, grasping at walls and trying not to slip again until they disappeared behind a corner. It wasn't until she knew they were gone that her gaze finally settled upon her savior. Normally that thought would have left a bad taste on the back of her tongue but she had to admit that it was nice. No facade. No need to think of lies and stories to talk her way out of a sticky situation. "A thank you gift, huh?" The con woman echoed as her hand moved towards her thigh, peering down at the visible strap from the split in her skirt. She tugged at the material until it was hidden. Much less for his gaze but to ensure that someone else didn't put two and two together and decide that they wanted a chance at the pot also. "The least that I could do— that's an interesting statement given that you barely broke a sweat."

He could do that in his sleep. At least it appeared so. "I guess it depends what kind of thank you gift you'd like. I'm up for listening to a few options and then deciding just how grateful I'm feeling."

[fatalisms]

It was a strange thing to look into eyes of crystalline waters he knew well enough to swim in rather than sink under, only to realize the misplaced self-belief in his own safety. Looking in Morena's eyes now, he only felt the deadly, inescapable pull of a siren calling out to him instead, morbid curiosity threading all manner of thoughts and ideas through his mind. In this new light, the woman he'd called friend, even confidante, almost appeared like a shadow-self version of Alessandro himself arguably at his worst, threat and danger twisting with charm and cunning, and animalistic smile hiding teeth dripping with depravity.,

"Morena, I never..." The man started, rubbing a knuckle along his jaw in thought. "I never would have asked you to do that if I had known." It was an admittance of truth and tenderness, a rare acknowledgement that Alessandro, for the first time in a long while, held even fewer cards than he knew. An unfamiliar hesitation underscored his thoughts as he continued to parse through what had been and what now was, wondering if he'd uncovered some rare treasure in the revelation of Morena's hidden depths — or merely, a new threat.

Regardless of what she was, it was now in his best interest to fashion a weapon from the wreckage of this epiphany — which meant, for now, playing the game by her rules. A rare privilege, indeed. "I am...sorry for doubting you, Ren. You're right, I underestimated you. Tell me, what would erase that little indiscretion from your mind? Name anything in this world or the next, but understand..." At this, his eyes grew dark with teasing, the curve of a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. "...there is no world where you'd have my tongue on your heel."

[bulletwnds]

There was a clear understanding at his words. Perhaps it was almost shocking to think despite their friendship, his worry laid more with her own being, rather than the gain he'd gotten from her action. She'd been far too used to men always trying to seek something out of her that she'd grown adept at figuring out what she could gain from them first and ensuring that she come out on top. His reaction stripped back the professional aspect of it towards something much more vulnerable and intimate.

"I wouldn't have done it for anyone else." They were friends and there was some truth to that. She hadn't gained anything, thus the act had been selfless on her part as a means for him to get something out of the interaction between her and the man who'd darted his tongue out upon her shoe. Nevertheless, it was far less traumatizing for her than it seemed to be for Alessandro. "There is something powerful about seeing a man on their knees and as much as I love being able to do that, there wasn't any part of me who enjoyed having my expensive shoes tainted, if that's what you're shocked about." Her own private proclivities tethered more towards being a bit of a submissive and dominant in bed and being able to switch between them when necessary.

The admittance that he'd failed to recognize the power that she held, especially with the opposite sex, was all she needed to hear. But in true fashion, she wasn't going to shy away from some kind of reward. "An expensive night on the town." A dinner and shopping spree but she would let him plan whatever that meant, and she'd see how apologetic he was. A hand slid up towards the man's chin as she dragged a finger along his jaw. "Never say never, baby." She purred but it was much more of a teasing in jest than a serious statement. "I would never ask you to do something like that. Not that you wouldn't look especially good on your knees but your tongue would be better suited for other things." A beat later and her hand fell. "Now let's have a drink to erase that memory from our mind."

[henri-brooks]

"You only hate them because you didn't make them, let's be real." Henri rolled his eyes and settled in the seat across from her. "I forgot you hate delicious fun but yes, this one is less sugary and much more about the alcohol. Plus it's a whiskey base and since I know you're all lumberjack and serious I think you'll like it." Henri smiled, sliding the shorter glass over to her before indulging himself in the dragonfruit mojito he had just mentioned. "I mean don't you get tired of serving old fashions and gin and tonics?"

[bulletwnds]

"Drinks are much better when they're made by other people... except when you know by taste alone that you're going to wake up with an horrible hangover due to the sugar." Frankly, it was bringing her back to her early teenage years when she found herself nursing horrible headaches because of mixed, sweet drinks. "Whiskey is more my speed." She was more of a tequila girl but whiskey wasn't horrible, either. Now there came a smile. "More than you know and I judge people on their choice of drink. Should I take a guess on what type of guy you are and what you normally order?"

[jakemercer]

For a moment, his dark eyes searched her face. They wandered over features he'd long since committed to memory, looking for something she hadn't said, something she'd tucked neatly behind an expression she wore for the rest of the world. But he wouldn't pry. For whatever she decided to place in front of him would be enough. Perhaps he could blame that was on some strange pedestal he'd put her on somewhere along the way. Not because he believed she was incapable of lying to him, but because there remained an element he saw in trust - that when and if she was ready, she'd share it with him. Until then, the spaces between her words belonged to her.

His thumb dragged slowly across his lower lip before he settled back against the bike again, making no effort to look anywhere but at her. Following a beat, his attention finally gave way to the phone she'd extended his way. One that his rough fingers soon wrapped around, attention honing onto the screen as he read the words over. Ones that settled heavier each pass in the front of his mind. Eventually the phone found its way back into her hand and in turn prompted his own eyes to lift with it until they found their focal point on her.

In the next second, he'd pushed off the bike, rough hands hesitating momentarily before lifting to frame her face gently. "Not your fault." The words were spoken with unwavering conviction, not an ounce of hesitation behind it. "Whatever they wanted with him -" his head shook once, "it would've happened whether you did it or not." A firm believer that she did what she had to do and it went without saying. "You wanna tell me what they mean by this time?" There was no expectation attached to the question. If she chose to answer, he'd listen. Alternatively, if she didn't, he'd leave it where it was. Either way, the offer remained the same. Whatever she needed from him, whether help, somewhere to lean, someone willing to carry part of the weight - he'd be there for it.

[bulletwnds]

She felt her chest tighten while he peered down at her phone and read over the words that she'd received anonymously. The message wasn't threatening in itself. There wasn't a promise of something horrible happening to her if she didn't do it but there was an underlying message regarding the secret she hoped remained buried. As he shifted, she fought the urge to immediately run away ( not that there was anywhere to go given that they were miles outside of town and he was the only ride).

The touch instantly calmed her as she slowly reached out to settle her own fingers upon his chest, fiddling with the material of his shirt. She knew that he was right and she willed herself to find calm by his statement but there was still a ball of worry in the pit of her stomach. More so that if something did occur, was there a chance that it could be traced back to her? Perhaps they'd find the text message or look at the security camera and see her heading inside and outside of the office. She'd taken measures to hide her face but she didn't know that it was enough.

The question was one she anticipated and instead of wanting to reel away from it, she found herself wanting to lean into the protectiveness that she felt when she was around him. He made her feel safe. As if he'd be there to protect her despite knowing that perhaps that would be impossible for one person to do against.... whatever force she was up against. "I killed someone," she heard herself say, her heart pounding so hard in her chest that she'd be shocked if he couldn't feel it. Her form trembled slightly and she busied her hands by pushing hair from her face. "I got drunk and I wanted to leave quickly. I didn't want to wait for a ride so I drove and I hit someone. Someone stopped and I begged them to help me so they did. There wasn't any cop, no headlines in the morning, and I didn't ask any questions about what happened to the person. They helped me so now I help them."

[henri-brooks]

Location: The Champagne Room Open starter for @pantheonhqstarters

"You wanna try some of our new drinks? If you hate 'em I'll but your next round. If you like 'em, you can buy my next round." Henri was giving the people in front of him his best smile as he held a tray of drinks. He had taken over for a few shifts at the Champagne Room and he had been campaigning for more summer options. But first he had to prove they were worth it. So he had taken it upon himself to do his own market research. "What do you think? Best deal or what? Which one would you like to try first? I'd recommend this dragonfruit mojito."

[bulletwnds]

"I hate them, clearly." Rosa indicated before the drink even touched her lip. That deal wasn't one she was willing to take even if she had to lie and grimace at a drink that she enjoyed. But perhaps she wouldn't have to fake too hard when she noted the colorful drinks that appeared to hold a punch of sugar— which she tended to dislike with her liquor. 'I'm going to take a wild guess and say it's the pink one. Is there anything that won't feel like I've also taken a spoonful of sugar alongside a watered down flavoured drink? What about this amber colored one?"

[diviinus]

a quiet breath of laughter slips from him, gone almost as soon as it appears, swallowed by the music and the steady hum of conversation around them. it isn't so much amusement as quiet recognition.

"obligation," alexander answers, the word offered as though it ought to explain everything. for a moment, it does. his thumb traces the rim of his glass in an absent circle before his attention shifts to rosa fully, the practiced sweep of his gaze suggesting he'd been aware of her presence long before he'd looked at her.

"the older you get, the less these things resemble invitations." one shoulder lifts in a faint shrug. "eventually they become attendance records. someone notices when you're absent."

his eyes drift back across the terrace. a councilman laughing a shade too loudly at a joke that wasn't particularly funny. two donors embracing like old friends despite having spent the better part of the last year trying to undermine one another. familiar choreography. "and people tend to get careless in rooms like this," he continues after a measured sip. "they're usually too busy trying to convince everyone they're interesting to remember they're being observed."

the corner of his mouth threatens the ghost of a smile.

"so, i suppose i came for the entertainment." whether he means the orchestra, the champagne, or the collection of carefully curated masks wandering villa aurelia's terrace is left entirely to rosa's interpretation.

[bulletwnds]

she peered in his direction and nodded her head in comprehension. her own attendance had been expected, though she doubted that most of the crowd had truly been impacted by her own the way it would his. she was a con-artist who would easily fade within the crowd if need be, make her presence smaller until she disappeared without a trace.

he was the police commissioner. it was known across town and certainly throughout the crowd of criminals that lingered throughout. "i don't know that it has to do with age more than it has to do with certain affiliations and loyalty, right?"

now he could choose which affiliation or loyalty he was showing up for, that wasn't any of her interest for tonight. she wasn't here to tempt fate by pissing off someone who could inconvenince her with a stay in a prison cell for a few days.

the second part caught her attention, gaze peering in the direction of the councilman who was boisterous and ensuring that those around him pay attention to him. her eyes rolled with disgust. there was something about powerful men that would always annoy her, but also bring forth a desire to kick them down a few pegs.

"now that i can understand and get behind. if you look closely, you can see the crack amidst the facades people are putting on. the masks always fall and it's not always a pretty view but it can guarantee hours of entertainment." her eyes scanned the area a little further before it turned towards him. "shall we wage a friendly bet? perhaps about our dear councilman in the corner."

[silkbite]

her laugh came quietly, more breath than sound, though it carried enough warmth to betray genuine amusement. it wasn't the answer she'd expected, but perhaps it should have been. people who lingered at the edge of parties usually saw things differently than those standing beneath the brightest lights. her gaze followed the horizon for another moment before finally lifting her champagne to her lips. a single sip. crisp. expensive. forgettable. "no," she said, turning the glass slowly between slender fingers. “i think you're giving everyone here too much credit.” the corner of her mouth lifted again. “lies usually require effort.” her eyes drifted back toward the terrace where another chorus of laughter rose into the evening air. somewhere inside the villa, crystal chimed against crystal. a photographer called someone's name. half a dozen people instinctively angled themselves toward the camera before the flash had even gone off. "this..." she gestured vaguely toward the crowd, “...feels much easier than that.” there was no judgment in her voice. If anything, there was recognition. “i don't think most people arrive intending to pretend. i think they spend so long becoming what everyone expects that eventually they forget there was ever another version.” the words settled between them before leyla glanced sideways, studying the woman beside her with quiet curiosity. she'd seen that look before — the kind that belonged to someone watching the exits instead of the entertainment. “you don't strike me as someone who enjoys these kinds of things either.” a beat passed. "so what convinced you to come?"

[bulletwnds]

ren peered around while the girl spoke. she could see where the impression came from and even wondered if perhaps it had been something that had happened to her throughout the time she spent on men's lap and under the public eye. had she shifted in order to fit a mold that best suited what people were looking for? she knew she had, though she liked to believe that she'd kept fragments of herself in there to the point that she could still recognize the girl in the mirror. "i think that's normal in this world." her gaze shifted back to her companion, wondering if she'd lived amongst this crowd long or had she just stumbled her way in like ren had. "i came for work." as complicated and as simple as that. there was something for her to gain amidst the crowd and that meant she had to be here in order to get what she wanted— information, connection, money — whatever her heard desired and she stumbled into tonight. "and what about you? what's your excuse for being here?"

[jakemercer]

The request had come from Ren earlier that evening and there was no version of him that would have denied her. Not in this context or any other. Though this wasn't the kind he was used to being asked into where she was concerned. Others, surely. No doubt about it. It was a familiar game as an enforcer. But with Ren it was different. This request had sparked a concern within him for him. It was one that begged to wonder if she was okay. What was going on and how to pull her out of it.

He idled at the mouth of the alley with the engine low and one boot on the asphalt, waiting until he caught a glimpse of her. In turn, the helmet was held out when she got close enough, waiting for her arms to secure their place around his torso before the low rumble of the engine filled the alley prior to their speed off. Twenty minutes through Manhattan, the route varying twice as he opted against returning to his familiar stomping grounds of Brooklyn in the event they were being followed. They weren't. But cautionary nature wouldn't settle the instinct.

When they'd put enough distance between themselves and wherever he'd pulled her from, remaining within Manhattan city limits, he cut the engine. His own helmet came off first before he turned to help with hers, fingers finding the clasp to undo then remove it. The first words out of her mouth produced nothing more than a lopsided smirk to hook upon one side of his lips before he patted her thigh to signal aiding her off the bike. "You know I'm gonna ask, Ren." There would never be judgment on his part. "You in some kind of trouble?"

[bulletwnds]

with each mile that separated her from that building, she felt lighter. the weight that bore down on her chest alleviated and her grasp on the man only tightened, even allowing herself a moment to smile and laugh at the fact that she'd done what was asked and gotten away with it.

with the male's guidance, she descended from the bike and looked him over once she got the helmet off. her hand immediately travelled to her hair to smooth down the crazed flyaways. "i don't know," she told him truthfully. the text had been out of the blue and despite being under the thumb of the contingency— she'd never felt like she was in trouble or danger. they protected her and she helped.

"i got a text message," she started, pausing to chew the inside of her cheek. it wasn't like she'd been told to remain quiet about it. after a moment, she pulled out her phone and handed it towards him so he could see the text message. "what if they kill him because of me? now they know where he's going to be."

[diviinus]

in the golden hour of villa aurelia's opening night, ALEXANDER HOPE claims a spot near the edge of the terrace, close enough to the doors to track who comes and goes, far enough from the center of the party that no one would think to look for him there first. glass in hand, more prop than anything, he's nursed the same drink for the better part of an hour. open @pantheonhqstarters

a few familiar faces from the precinct had drifted into his orbit throughout the evening, the kind of easy, forgettable conversation that required at most half his attention. he gave them exactly that. the other half of him stayed on the room itself: who arrived together, who hadn't spoken all night, who kept checking their phone like they were waiting on something they didn't want anyone else to see land. old habits. he'd stopped calling it work a long time ago. it was just how he attended things now.

the gold light easing into violet over the water, the sound of a party that hadn't stopped moving since he'd arrived, none of it fully pulled him out of his own head. "i've been to a few hundred of these over the years." he takes a slow sip of his drink, gaze still tracking the terrace rather than whoever he's speaking to.

"can't say i've enjoyed one of them yet."

[bulletwnds]

rosa nodded her head as she settled along the edges where she could see most people. she'd already noted the exits and the faces of people she recognized, trusted most, and who she'd already brushed shoulders with and didn't like at all. "i don't know that anyone enjoys a noose around their neck or shapewear that makes it feel impossible to breathe." she had the latter on but it was more so certain items that were tucked in places remained where they were meant to rather than to hide lines and smooth out textures.

"what's your reasoning for showing up, then?"

[fatalisms]

His countenance naturally set into an easy smile when Ren was near, the jagged edges of his ego and his instincts relaxing just so in the comfort of knowing that the woman on his arm was entirely content to play the part of pretty trophy rather than dealmaker, and even earned herself a few shiny trinkets for her time. He liked her for precisely this reason — the decided lack of complication she presented. So, when her pretty lips wrapped around that rendering of punishment, Alessandro's ears could hardly hear it as anything but a joke at first, laughing gently to himself until he saw the way the man reached for a napkin while his beady eyes fixed on her stiletto.

"Ren..." The uttering of her name was tinged with uncertainty, and a cloud of warning darkened his gaze as he lightly squeezed her arm, as if doing so could somehow break the spell she clearly had over the man. Even after she confirmed her intent by telling the senator exactly how she wanted him to serve his punishment, his mind lingered in the land of confusion and disbelief for a few moments too long before registering the truth of what was happening before him. Senator Campagna slowly lowered himself, tongue darting out gingerly as he fulfilled her exact demand, and Alessandro found himself unable to look away, disgusted and fascinated in equal measure. From the corner of his eye, he saw one of his affiliates take a few clandestine shots of the utterly indecent act, and his arm quickly pulled Morena away. "Go wait for me in the limo. Now."

Alessandro ushered his companion away before returning to the man, uncertain if he should offer an apology or prolong the humiliation. "Senator..." His voice started a sentence he couldn't quite finish, though it seemed the other man was interested only in thanking him profusely, his reverence that of someone who'd been given life-saving water after days in the desert. Uncharacteristically fazed, Sandro muttered a half-hearted goodbye and made his way to the limo.

"Your bedside manners are...shocking, Miss Aguirre," he observed simply, eyes lingering on her as if seeing her for the first time, this new truth about her captivating him even in his uncertainty. "But undoubtedly effective."

[bulletwnds]

she'd heard rumours from friends. some girls who'd spent their evenings with the senator long enough to uncover some of his most desired proclivities. though those were often shared amongst most of the powerful men who continuously held control and enjoyed the ability to let someone else take the reigns for a few hours. while ren wasn't fond on taking on the role of dominatrix too much — outside of being in charge of money — she understood what needed to be done tonight.

there wasn't any wavering or hesitation in her request and the excitement that vibrated from the man only fuelled her further despite the ghastly look she received from alessandro. the woman ignored him as she looked down upon the male who knelt before her, only allowing him to see the content on her face when he was done with his task. "that's good. good boy," she added under her breath for the senator and alessandro's ears alone.

her gaze remained on alessandro as he approached the senator in a manner that indicated he must have been apologizing on her behalf— or perhaps his— and frankly ren didn't quite care. "you owe me an apology," ren regarded him with a dissaproving shake of her head. "you doubted me." while her methods were out there, they had landed them both exactly what they wanted and he should have known better than to assume any different.

"how will you make it up to me?"

[fatalisms]

Undoubtedly, the taunt from her lips was heard by the men as an invitation instead, only encouraging them to close further in. His eyes narrowed as they approached, their brazen and misplaced self-belief allowing him the opportunity to carefully inspect each one's form for any concealed carries or physical weak spots. The quieter of the two appeared to favor his left leg somewhat, implying pain or injury in his right, while the louder one subconsciously fidgeted with a small side pocket that likely contained a knife or another small, close-range weapon. Sensible choice, considering the largely residential neighborhood would surely react quite immediately to the sound of gunshots ringing through the late-night air.

"Never mind what I've got packin'. What'cha got over there, boys? A pretty little butter knife in your pocket and — lemme guess, just a mean ol' right kicker, huh?" Although he and the woman were veritable strangers, Achillas hoped his own taunt contained a clear enough message for her to understand. Sure, he could have easily taken the two men the moment they brushed past him, but if she was willing to steal to have diamonds on her skin, she'd have to be just as willing to see blood on them in equal measure.

Before the men had too much of a chance to respond, Achillas moved on the fidgety one first, his expert hands delivering a quick succession of jabs and disarmaments that left the guy kneeling before them, legs pinned back under the press of his heavy boot. He casually leaned an elbow on the man's shoulder and fixed his gaze intently on the woman's next moves. "Your choice, ladrona. Whaddya think? Go for the the weak spot, or somewhere he'll be feeling for days?"

[bulletwnds]

she could have easily snuck away and allowed achillas to disarm and handle both men who's attention had now shifted from her towards him. they likely believed that he wouldn't be much of an issue given that he was on his own. little did they know the force behind the tall and built man. she'd seen it a few times whenever she walked in on trainings, intent on doing some cardio for the day. evidently, it was the hawk-like attention that brought to attention the weaknesses the men held. one with a bad leg and the other without an ability to hide the item that was within reach in his pocket. fingers toyed with the material, indicating that he was thinking of reaching in but second-guessing whether it was the time or he was willing to give it away.

too late.

achillas was quick and rosa didn't have time to even think of making a run for it when he lunged and got both men disarmed and at his mercy. it was impressive and frightening. the question, however, brought forth interest and a newfound desire to remain in order to see where this went. "this shouldn't even be a question. make it hurt for a few days so they can remember that they shouldn't run after a pretty girl who is trying to enjoy her night."

her head tilted as she looked towards both men and smiled. "can you do it that it hurts for a few weeks? they did give me quite the scare."

[silkbite]

⋆˚☆˖° status: closed!! // utp!! (@bulletwnds)°˖☆˚⋆

⋆˚☆˖° location: the white party @ villa aurelia!! °˖☆˚⋆

the first thing she noticed wasn't the setting, but the silence. not the absence of sound — there was too much champagne being poured, too many conversations rising and falling beneath strings of music drifting over the terrace — but the kind of silence money cultivated. the confidence that came from never needing to rush. every laugh seemed measured. every smile practiced just enough to appear effortless. even the ocean felt invited. she had spent enough nights beneath crimson lights to recognize another kind of performance when she saw one. only this audience had traded velvet for linen. white fabric caught the last of the evening sun as guests drifted across the lawn, each of them looking as though they'd stepped from the same dream. villa aurelia stood impossibly pristine against the coastline, its lights beginning to glow as daylight surrendered to dusk. beautiful. almost too beautiful. leyla wandered toward the edge of the property where the terrace gave way to sand, slipping her heels off long enough to let the cool grains settle beneath her feet. the atlantic stretched endlessly before her, indifferent to the spectacle unfolding only a few yards away. she preferred that. the ocean had no interest in appearances. a passing server offered another glass of champagne. she accepted it more out of politeness than desire, turning the delicate stem between her fingers without taking a sip. "it's funny," she murmured after a while, not entirely sure whether she was speaking to herself or the person who'd come to stand nearby. “they tell you white symbolizes innocence.” her gaze drifted back toward the party. a sea of immaculate dresses. tailored suits. perfect smiles. then corner of her mouth curved, subtle enough to disappear if someone blinked. “and i've never seen a room wear it more convincingly.” only then did she glance toward the person beside her, curiosity quiet but unmistakable.

[bulletwnds]

such parties weren't the ones the preferred. she was more suited to the sweaty quarters of a night club, the chaotic bathroom scene while trying to share a line with a few friends. a night that smelled of regret and promised good stories. this was far different. there was something eery in the air and ren could only feel like it was the silence before the storm— something was going to happen and she hated the anticipation of it. she'd remained by the water as it seemed like the only comfort she could find. a familiarity that made her feel grounded compared to the various bodies she recognized from rendez-vous and nights out on the town alike. her gaze flicked from the water towards the woman beside her, unable to hide the smirk that played on her lips. her own flute of champagne had grown warm from her forgotten tight grasp. "some would say that white is worn because it makes the red pop better." it was twisted, disgusting, an horrible thought but it was one she'd thought about the moment she'd arrived. there were too many people for something not to go horribly wrong. "i don't believe anything is pure in this day and age and white is nothing but a lie." her shoulder rose and fell. "— but you probably weren't looking for a debby downer."

[bulletwnds]

starter for @jakemercer

after her text message

ren escaped from the bottom stairwell towards the back alley with a different change of clothes on her body. the skimpy dress was bundled up in her hand, tossed nearby when she noted jake waiting for her where he'd promised he would be. the pants and sweat shirt that hid her form were better suited for the quick escape but unlike anything she'd normally wear. which, granted, was the whole point.

their text exchange had been brief and she'd promised to explain the situation in full to him after he provided the quick escape she needed. now that she was facing the idea of voicing aloud that she was basically forced into stealing someone's intinerary for the next month, she wanted to avoid it at all cost.

sliding in the back of his bike, she wrapped her arms around his waist once the helmet was secure and she was ready. luckily by the time they arrived at their destination, she hoped he'd just forget about everything.

"if you don't ask, i won't need to tell and i think that may be for the best."

[fatalisms]

As he was inclined to do, Alessandro spent the rest of his working evening attending to business in his office, looking over expense reports and noting what — or, rather who — was best serving him and his interests, particularly when it came to matters of his staff. They were a trusted few, tasked with the project closest to him thus far in his career: The Marquee, the former theatre turned hedonist's den of electronica and erotica combined. It was not his only prized jewel, merely the one currently at the center of the crown, the city's spotlight shone on it while magpies were drawn in by the gleam.

His other prized possessions remained primarily in the safe solitude of his home, tucked away in his fortress of a penthouse. Away from the prying eyes of the city's nighthawks, Alessandro practiced his private rituals, his little methods of giving honor to the path that led him here—namely, touching the center diamond of his mother's necklace twice, a private prayer offered up to God along with the gesture. Later that evening, as he walked the long corridor (more a museum passageway than a mere hall) to his bedroom, his hands instinctively reached for the necklace, finding naught but vacant space in its place. He felt the hair at the back of his neck stand up, mental alarms blaring for his ears only, and raced to check his bedroom for any further signs of intrusion. His bed, strangely, was wrinkled after being meticulously pressed by his housekeeper, and a key few heirlooms — black diamond cuff links, a rosary made of sapphires, a couple Vacheron Constantin watches he wore in regular rotation, to name a few of the more valuable items gone — had vanished.

But his mother's necklace — that wasn't a simple theft. That was personal. A threat with bared, bloody teeth. A declaration of war against him. He scoured the external camera footage of the building, but came up empty. In the days immediately following the 'attack', Alessandro slept only in his office at the club — or, dozed for minutes and half-hours at a time, eyes by now bloodshot and body deeply unrested. He was a man built on control, and this heist team had stripped him entirely of it, leaving him a man drinking down his third — or was it fourth — G&T of the afternoon, pathetic and pitiful as his eyes scanned over the camera footage yet again. Rosa's familiar voice brought him out of his wallowing reverie, a mostly welcome invitation to pay attention to anything other than his loss.

"Cierto, bella, of course I'm here. I'm always here," he half-groaned, finally prying his eyes away from his phone and to his favorite bartender. It wasn't her pretty face that caught his attention this time, however — it was the piece of history hanging off her hips, dangling like simple decoration, careless and cruel. Rising to examine her, he silently flung every Italian curse he could in her general direction, but let the words die unspoken in his throat while his hands nestled upon the curve of her hips, touch light but present. "Rosa, Rosa... Driving me insane wasn't the kind of trouble I told you to get into..." He sucked in a breath, grip on her suddenly far more possessive. Rougher. Intending to hurt, not as a finality, but as a warning. "This belongs to one woman and one woman only, and you are not she. So, be a good girl and give it back."

[bulletwnds]

her gaze was fixed on his expression, anticipating the moment that it all came together and the whole picture formed. rosa was nothing if not someone who adored the thrill of a hunt and while getting away with it most often scratched the itch, there was something diabolically delicious about watching the reaction. she was normally long gone after a theft so she was savouring each second.

the excitement vibrated through her at his approach, savouring the frustration that poured out of him with each curse until his touch settled upon her skin. it was a contrasting brush as opposed to the booming sound of his voice—carefully angling her body towards him and her hip just out of reach as to ensure he wouldn't so easily slip it off of her dress.

"you should have been more specific." a hand settled upon the front of his shirt as she smoothed the material down.

there was something thrilling about having the upper hand and the control of a situation.

he'd soon learn that perhaps his charming tone would have had other woman lapping in the palm of his hand, she was not one of them.

and rosa did not respond well to being told to be a good girl.

she'd never been. nor had she ever had interest.

her tongue clicked against the roof of her mouth disapprovingly. the hand fell from his torso towards the gorgeous and expensive piece upon her hip. "i knew it was special the moment i saw it. it was taken care of well, but doesn't it look better on my body than behind some vaulted door?"

her head tilted to take him in, face splitting into a grin. "tell me how good it looks on me." while her features held innocence with the way she regarded him through her lashes, her tongue held nothing but. it was firm. an order.

"go on. be a good boy."