@suturcd said: ❛ Men forget, that women have ears. ❜
* ( REIGN / SENTENCE PROMPTS. I have so many asks have mercy
"men forget a great deal of things about women."
outsourcing isn't something buccellati typically does. his reliance on his team is more than a matter of organizational hierarchy: it's deliberate and intentional, hand-picked off the streets or out of gutters or from cells with strong convictions and passione left as the only compassionate option (and under most circumstances buccellati would sooner offer a knife through the hand than an invitation into passione) who he could trust as he trusts his heart to beat. but that doesn't blind him to other members of their organization who, while not within buccellati's purview, are as close as anyone can get— one such sits across from him now, spoon in a slice of blueberry semifreddo.
fran's tepid expression doesn't break even as she recalls the murmurings of the men buccellati had asked her to eavesdrop on, the kind of vile, piggish talk that makes buccellati will his fingers to stay relaxed on his crossed arms. the information, at least, is good.
"this is good information. polpo will be pleased. I'll see that he sends a bonus in your direction," he says, finally unfurling his arms to tend to his own island of semifreddo, floating in a lake of dark chocolate. "as for those men..."
his spoon rends the dessert clean in half.
"let me know if they give you trouble, directly," he offers, because he always offers, because it is his job to do so. "I’ll see that they’re dealt with."
