LEON.

costello. boss. brother. husband. man.

[leoncostello]

paityn.

Paityn stiffened as her brother-in-law brushed by her and made a snarky remark about her drinking habits. “Not earlier enough, apparently,” she sighed, closing the door behind Leon. She went back to the counter and fixed her double triple screwdriver.

Paityn did as she was told, eventually. She sat on the couch and crossed her legs, quickly joined by Tallulah, always perceptive to her distress. Paityn placed her drink on the coffee table and pet the dog curled in her lap. 

“What do you want?” she asked. Paityn felt like a broken record. How many times would she have to say she didn’t know what happened to her? At least one time more, it seemed. 

Sure people must’ve inquired about her disappearance. But Leon had heard all the reports and retellings of her little misadventure already--which had left him both annoyed and indifferent. Considering she had nothing useful to report; not a single lead or description. 

“I’m here because Luca is my brother.” And her husband, much to his displeasure. “And what I want is to grant you the assurance that you are safe.” It hadn’t been his wish for them to marry, but Luca was a man and he’d made his decision. And now the rest of them were learning to live with it. 

Choosing to take the seat across from her, Leon pulled free a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it though they were indoors. “Maybe not by blood, but you are a Costello and we will find out who did this to you.” And they’d pay for it with their lives, either dangling from telephone poles or bodies six feet deep. “I give you my word that by the end of this, they will understand you do not mess with a Costell.”  

[fletchergrxy]

One of their accountants hadn’t been able to reach Leon, at least, not in the timely manner they’d wanted, which meant Violet had to take a trip to Aurea. Since the separation, she’d tried to avoid it, since it was Leon’s main office and she wasn’t sure she could handle the crashing, stormy wave of emotion that’d come the second she saw his face. Even as she drove there now, she could feel the anxiety, the anger, the grief, all of it, forming into a steel ball between her ribs. Heavy. Too fuckin’ heavy.

So much so, she’d been nursing a cigarette during it, hood of her car down as she let the wind whip across her face, hoping it take with it some of that weight. She dropped the smoke as she entered the club, crushing it out in a nearby ashtray before entering the club. The place wasn’t open, practically empty, except for a few employees who greeted her as she passed through toward the back. Of course, she still had a key to his office. And thankfully, it was locked — which meant Leon wasn’t there.

Or so she hoped.

So she thought.

She didn’t notice him right away, shutting the door behind her with a heavy sigh before she turned to face the rest of the room. She’d been wrong. There he was. And that steel ball dropped, landing in her gut with such force she almost bent forward. Her jaw clenched, the muscle rippling as she tried to find the words. Any fucking words.

I don’t wanna fight.

All I want to do is fight. Cause at least then we’re talking.

“Hi.” It came out hoarse, as if the sight of him alone had closed up her throat, even though it was probably the cigarette. Probably the lack of sleep. Probably the sight of him alone. Another sigh as she directed her gaze toward the ceiling, taking off her sunglasses to tuck them in her hair. “I didn’t think you’d be here… so… yeah.”

You’re a twat, Violet. A giant fucking twat.

@leoncostello​

[leoncostello]

It was hard to surprise Leon, in fact, most genuine shocks still came as normalcy to the man. Perhaps in many ways, he’d have to grant that favor to his upbringing. Because the poker face he so boldly wore day in and day out was all due to the strict set of standards he’d been taught growing up. Which was to periodically suspect the unexpected, and to have a secure backup plan for when things fell through. 

Hence when he heard the hushed clicking of the locks on his office door, Leon reacted calmly, his hand slipping to the gun placed ever so casually under his desk. It wasn’t until the door was thrust open, and the familiar fragrance of jasmine caught him, that his shoulders grew more rigid, staring at the woman. She didn’t discern him instantly, granting him a moment to compose himself, features clouding over with rectified nonchalance. 

“These are my office hours.”

It was the one thing he could think to mention as she stood just mere feet away. As if the common sense of it all might straighten out their situation, and help him grasp onto the straws that were becoming his lifeline. “Were you looking for something?” 

Or someone. The thought alone echoed in his mind, though he refrained from voicing it. No use in beating a dead horse as his hands moved, working to release his chair from his desk as he stood. “What do you need?”

So formal and indifferent, his father would've been pleased. Achieving to separate business from pleasure, though the expression on his wife’s estranged wife's face was anything but entertained. 

[ofcostello]

Ezra looks down at this watch for what felt like the tenth time ( actually it was more like the twentieth. ) The waitress; a pretty young thing; who is waiting on ‘their’ table attentively pours him another glass of wine. He says ‘theirs’ his lunch mate hasn’t shown yet. Ezra wasn’t surprised, he often felt like he was waiting around for his older brother to show up. No doubt he probably had a reason ( he always did ) and him, ever loyal, waits, knowing himself too well to believe he’ll ever actually leaving no matter how many childish texts he sends ( when it comes to Leon their always going to be little kids, competing to see who’s tougher. ) 

He almost envies that about his other siblings; Mia; a girl ( not in a bad way ) didn’t feel the same competitive twinge, close in age; or at least close enough. The twins were too young, he was never going to duke it out with them. That left just the two of them; a pissing contest he often felt he was playing alone. He grabs the wine glass, takes another rather large gulp; letting it easily slip down his throat; he sighs and waits. When his brother does enter the establishment, Ezra just about makes out his figure from where his sitting; the velvet curtain shielding the table from the tables. They weren’t here to take about anything confidential, Ezra just fond of his privacy. 

“So,” he said dragged out the word lazily; “what time do you call this?” he asked, shaking the wrist for added effect. “I only booked this place because they’re lax on smoking inside.” That was if you knew how to tip right; meals with Leon always involved a considerable amount of smoking, mostly on Ezra’s side - lunches between the two of them, always had him fidgety, and he needed something to quell his nerves. “Especially since you know,” - ( he shacked up with the owner’s daughter and never called her back. ) It was aeons ago now, but Sal held a grudge. 

[ @leoncostello​ ]

[leoncostello]

Late again or just eternally late. Though he continually possessed a series of excuses that were unquestionable and had never been taunted for them. Perhaps because it appeared most knew better, though his brother was not most. Thus he’d attempted to be on schedule, every intention in line, and yet somehow had still failed. Ironic how that worked, with his thoughts a musing of unkept time. And so he slammed the town car door behind him as he made his way into the building. Annoyingly conscious of the paparazzi and their flashing bulbs marking his every step into the restaurant. 

“Fix that.” He barked towards the hostess stand, their startled lovely features nodding eagerly in response to the man. Of course, they recognized him and knew better than to question his appeal, already moving forward towards the window and pulling the shades, in an attempt to honor his request. “My table?” Not his brother’s and their theirs, just merely his as he followed their gazes towards the one in the far back, both intimate and secure. Ezra must’ve requested it, and a shimmer of regard and appreciation for his younger brother swelled his chest. They may be contrasting in both position and character, but it seemed they both understood the rank of secrecy in their very public lives. Which was something one could not acquire Leon felt, but could only be born with acknowledging his younger siblings did not all harbor it. 

“I’m late.” He announced, sliding into the seat across from Ezra. They both knew it, and Leon made no act of hiding it. “What are you drinking?” Dark hues glanced over his brother’s newly filled glass, as he reached forward, digits accruing a cigarette he gladly picked up. A nasty practice, but one that had grown even more constantly since Violet had moved out. “Whatever it is, get a second bottle.” Lighting the cancer stick, he encouraged it to hang loosely from his lips, the smoke spiraling towards the ceiling in cloudy wisps. “I’m sure you’ve seen Paityn around, Luca’s over the moon.” And yet they still had no answers. “What are your thoughts on that?” It wasn’t usually that Leon asked for another’s judgments, preferring instead to center on his own. But this time was different, and he valued his younger brother’s verdicts--as long as they weren’t too far off from his own.  

[leoncostello]

Costello Siblings 

@miacostello ; @ofcostello ; @scfiacostello & @lucacostello

[drogons]

[leoncostello]

@violetcostello

[paityncostello]

Despite being home, days and nights still bled together. Paityn tried to settle into reality, but nightmares and fear kept her awake. Phantom aches of past injuries lingered and she quelled the pain with her usual vices. Liquor, weed and a few too many Xanax would put her out for a few hours. At least this way she wouldn’t dream.

She woke up mid-morning to a note from her husband; Leon kept him busy. Out for the day. He told her not to worry, that there was an army watching to keep her safe. She bit her nail and climbed out of bed, despite the urge to bury herself in sheets all day. 

Paityn pulled vodka and orange juice from the fridge to start easing the severity of her thoughts. Though, a knock at the door interrupted her before she could pour a glass. 

Anyone who could make it this far, either killed all of Luca’s security or was someone she could trust. She assumed the latter was the truth this time. Paityn opened the door and smiled softly. “Hi,” she greeted. “I wasn’t expecting anyone.”

[leoncostello]

For decades of his life, Leon had instructed himself to hate the Saintclairs. It was as much in his blood as his upbringing. But leave it to Luca to go out and change everything, forcing his will to be tested as he stood just outside the door. “Paityn.” He says stiffly, moving past the woman to enter into the apartment. “Drinking already?” 

Dark hues shifted over the liquor bottle placed so casually atop the table, sure she’d been through hell, but had no one heard of therapy? After all, Leon paid a pretty penny to have some of the best and most discreet therapists on his payroll. 

“I think we should have a discussion.” The news had gotten out, and people were starting to wonder, and if Leon could be anything, it’d be proactive. “Sit down.”

[theojamesunofficial]