giocastiglione:
The screeching voice of Thea Collins exasperated the hell out of Gio. He’s used to politicians and their empty promises and flowery words, but Collins had a voice that was just utterly irritating. He had to watch this though. He wanted to be updated about things, especially when the Mayor wants to rant about cleaning the streets and whatever other bullshit she wants to spew.
“… and I will stand by my promise to purge Atlanta’s streets of the Mafia-style gangs that have come forth—“
Bang. A single gunshot. Chaos. Cameras were pushed to the floor as people ran aimlessly.
Gio pried his eyes away from the TV and got his phone. A few phone calls later and he would find out the DA Alastair Wright is dead.
The inevitable meetings and phone calls would happen soon. As far as he was concerned, everything was airtight on their side so it could only have been the Dixie Mafia’s doing. It was probably going to be a long day, and since it was the calm before the storm, he took the chance to come down to the steakhouse at his hotel to have a late lunch.
Seated alone as he cut through his medium rare, he took a swig of the red wine beside his plated before chewing down on his steak. He took a glance at the TV by the bar playing news reports of the shooting. Atlanta would be on lockdown. Everyone would be checked and vetted. Gio had to prepare, and what better way to prep than with wine and steak?
He felt someone come up to the table as he watched the TV from afar. When he finally was able to pry his eyes away from the screen, he looked up at the person. “Fancy seeing you here,” he said.
“Just pretend you didn’t,” he insisted, taking a seat across from the other, slumping his jacket over the back, he made himself comfortable with the intent of being nothing short of a nuisance. “Shit place you chose to chew on that chuck-eye,” he noted, vacant expression finally panning up to meet his. “Gotta wash it down with some Jackson Triggs, though. Anything else and you’ll sully that steer’s good name in the afterlife.” Approached with a menu, he waved it away before flitting a gaze to the television that had been seemingly blaring from behind the bar. “Pity, huh?” He mused, a bored gaze fixed to the ongoing news. “Used to escort that guy to charity events back’n New York. Terrible table-manners but he did tip well, f’you catch my drift.” A hint of a smile before he promptly dismissed it. Getting cozy with the higher-ups was a common practice of his. Even when he was just starting out, he solidified his stance with Gwyn and her brother. He should’ve been bodyguard at that point, but being just under the radar suited him. Just until he was old enough to take over, of course. Already having made himself comfortable, he rested back against his seat to affirm just that before opening his mouth again. “Don’t mind if I join ya, right? Lookin’ a bit lonely over here.”












