Nicknames: T, anything really, Troystopher (only by Charlie)
Character Age: 38
Height: 6 ft
Parents: Edmund and Victoria Windsor
Siblings: Charles Edmund Windsor III
Occupation: Attorney General of the State of New York
Birthday: December 27th (Capricorn)
Faceclaim: Theo James
Hometown: NYC
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Character Inspiration: Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer), Sebastian Valmont (Cruel Intentions), Elijah Mikaelson (TVD), Logan Echolls (Veronica Mars), Derek Hale (Teen Wolf), Ryan Atwood (The OC)
tldr;
– TROY WINDSOR had always had it all, until he didn’t. He grew up in a family of lawyers, therefore he always felt as if he had his future already planned out for him. It was a surprise to no one when the only child ended up in Law School. What was surprising though was when he married right after graduation. His job was something was great at, but never loved it, his heart laid with his wife and son. Until the night of the accident; where Troy not only lost himself but his family. A hit and run had left the DA at the time all by himself. This was when he realized the power that he could have and how he ended up as the Attorney General just a few years later. Gone were the family nights and soccer practices, turned into late nights of drinking, lust and mornings that started with popping pills for breakfast. A profession that he’d despised became an easy escape, he had so much power and so much and so little to lose that he used his position to his advantage and often chooses the highest bidder when it comes to the gangs, some would call it being smart, others call it a path to self-destruction. The past year Troy found love again, and he's not navigated it well, but recently, he feels as if his life is taking course again - almost if he now has a second chance.
READ BELOW for fun facts, biography, possible connections.
biography
TW: drugs, car accident
troy was born and raised in NYC. His father, a lawyer like most of the side of his family and his mother a wannabe actress that never really made it to hollywood, but that seemed quite happy when both her boys were born and decided to simply be their mother
growing up, troy mostly saw the good things in life. he was a lucky child, that saw real love between his parents despite how dysfunctional their relationship could be. no marriage was perfect but Edmund and Victoria were a team, through everything
after many catholic boarding schools, Yale felt like a breath of fresh air and troy didn't take it for granted. he had fun, and eventually, he found love.
marriage happened right after college, soon after he was working in the DA's office. troy never really loved his job back then, it was more something that he did because it was expected of him. but he was good at it, so good that he began to move up in his department with time.
he was already a district attorney by the time that his son was born and it felt like a blessing; a fairly easy job that allowed him to spend time with his loved ones, he couldn't really ask for more. his family, at one point, had become his entire world.
until one night, five years ago, when they were driving back from a work event and a car ran a red light. it hit them hard enough to turn the car upside down. when troy woke up hours later, he was the sole survivor.
since then, troy has struggled to find a purpose in anything that he does. he couldn't figure out what happened back then and to this day, has yet to find the person behind the wheel. it almost feels like he has gone completely.
before this, troy's knowledge about the gangs came solely from his brother's, Charlie, involvement in them - the youngest windsor had always known to look out for him, where he could help, even when he was still a relatively clean member of law enforcement
it was this accident that allowed him to see how much power he could hold with his job. what had once been a profession that was instilled in him at a young age, became everything to him. he could hire people to look for answers, and in the process, he could get things from them as well. with money, all the small vices from his college days came back in full force
while his drive to work with the organizations initially came from his path of self-destruction, nowadays troy found multiple connections that make emotionally invested in their safety: his brother, the biggest one and then a man that eventually became a part of their family. he will work for any gang but will always be partial to his brother, just won't say it out loud
random facts
went to a few catholic schools growing up, got expelled out of one and he can't remember why
still wears his wedding ring, but on his right hand
loves spending money, especially on clothes
addiction problem remains, though lately he's found himself trying to let go of it, still feels attached to the feeling
loves reading and art and will come off as very pretentious (also another thing he spends millions of dollars on probs)
can be very calculating, but is also very easily distracted
will do anything for charlie and those he considers his close friends
obsessed with esra durmaz - a feeling he never thought he'd be able to have again
possible connections
work related: he was an ADA, then a DA so he did the court system for years. so lawyers, detectives, maybe civilians involved in some of the cases that he prosecuted. could be positive or negative connections, very open.
business: when it comes to the gangs, he really doesn't care. his office is open for anyone willing to pay good enough and/or to service him in any way. he keeps his options open and while sometimes probably picks and chooses, the only person that he ultimately is loyal to is no one but himself. that could change, who knows.
ex-party friends, and still party friends: he's been a mess the past five years. his image is very clean to the public eye, but he definitely attends parties, clubs and simply knows how to hide it all to keep his reputation in tact. opportunities are endless, maybe they hate each other because troy is a douche or maybe they have used his lil secret against him, or maybe they're simply just friends that party?
past flings/hook ups/exes: self-explanatory. was married for a long time and then his wife passed away, so anything in the past five years has probably been kind of rocky, lots of ups and downs, and very confusing (at least for him)
enemies: whatever comes to mind really, could be for a reason, could be personalities don’t match, he's probably crossed a lot of people in his lifetime, actually so go wild on this, etc.
+ anything that comes to mind, could be drug dealers that his supply stocked, work friends, people that he basically drinks with, etc.
When he volleyed her compliment right back, Esra merely inclined her head to one side in consideration rather than doubt. Only a year prior and she might have questioned his motives, scoured every syllable for an underlying gotcha waiting to reveal itself. Nothing ever came and Troy more than proved himself worth being taken at face value, however that hardly kept good natured teases from landing between them, "You're just glad to be out of the line of fire for once." Ironic how he pursued her in the midst of it anyway. Unwavering and determined despite every smoke screen or rebuff she set in his path to keep him out, a true marvel of tenacity.
"Figured you liked that about me." And truthfully, if she were an easy crowd then he probably wouldn't be standing here. The moment between them doesn't cease when they exit the building, her attention still wrapped around the only person worth holding it as they approached Troy's infamous Aston Martin. No longer the source of unwanted butterflies and a burgeoning sense that something irreversible had shifted between them overnight. Now it was their refuge, a place where hundreds of intimate and mundane conversations took place that led them precisely to this very moment. She loved that damn car.
Her fingers interlaced with his as soon as they touched. Zero hesitation in the movement, as if they were already waiting for him. Sometimes Esra wondered if her entire life had been a series of waiting until he unceremoniously crashed into it. “No, I don't hate your cooking." Reassurance accompanied by an eye roll. He'd been the source of several versions of that gesture over the years, only this time it sprung from a place of genuine amusement. "I just can’t believe you still have the energy."
Her gaze shifted to their hands, observing the way he delicately caressed the back of her palm as if it were second nature. Then up to his arms, a safe haven where she fully intended to drift off tonight. To the jawline she could trace on paper, in her sleep, and at the drop of a hat. Finally, inevitably, devastatingly even after all this time, their eyes met and Esra lost hold of the self-preservation gate between her thoughts and words. “You know, I was terrified the first time I sat in this car.” A lifetime ago it seemed, when the temptation of toeing over the line with him felt akin to running from a bear. “Thought you might kidnap me.”
Troy did hardly anything to hide his smile at her words, even if his gaze remained ahead, focused on the road. "We could say it's one of the many things I like about you." He allowed the half truth to come out, for there was hardly anything that he knew about her that Troy didn't like. It often felt as if this had always been the plan - for them to be together, to help each other heal in ways that neither of them were even aware of. A part of him still needed to work on himself, still needed to let go of things, but my god, was it easier now that he knew she was next to him.
He was used to few hours of sleep from before he even met her. The nightmares that had once taken place after the accident had yet to go away, though he had found ways to make them easier on himself. Often times, exhaustion was an even better remedy. Though they didn't happen as often nowadays, Troy still thought of them often. He was lucky enough that Esra understood so much about him without ever asking him for more than he could share.
"More time spent together." came his reply, a shrug followed though he obviously meant it. Even if they worked together, this was what he considered real time spent with her. Where they could forget about all the issues that came with their jobs, and putting out fires, and could just be together. Not in a rush despite how late it was and how early they had to be up. "Oh yeah?" He almost laughed at her words, turning his head momentarily to meet her gaze with his once traffic was at a standstill. "Hard to pull that off knowing who your brother is, don't you think?"
The only remotely visible response on Aslan's end was a slight tightening of lips at the mention of his sister. The controlled containment of the tumultuous guilt that had taken up permanent residence in him toward Esra. Toward Miray. The kind he would carry with him to his last breath, regardless of how thoroughly he settled what he could in the present. Though there's a tinge of something that eases with the awareness that she's trusted Troy, a man Aslan considered family, enough to share details of her life with. That she's found solace somewhere, in someone that would do what was necessary to ensure nothing further touched her.
"Already moving on the financials and offshore activity, anything that doesn't fit the income." Aslan had assumed as much from the moment Esra had said the commissioner's name. Men like Harvey didn't run a single con. They ran a system that refined over time and applied to anyone whose vulnerabilities matched the right shape. Esra was one. There would be more. Finding every additional point of pressure narrowed the room the commissioner had to maneuver in. "If your files bring any names to standout, I'd like those when you have them. Got a few detectives on my payroll that can dig into things at the department level if that helps you."
It went without saying that Troy, before he even began looking into Harvey, had made sure the entire Durmaz family was absolutely covered. He didn't need to tell Aslan that was the first thing he did when Esra finally told him what Harvey Knight had been doing to her. He knew Harvey well enough to know they weren't empty threats, but nobody was even remotely aware of just how easily Troy could make things disappear. As easy as Aslan's name had been removed from the list of phone numbers attached to ADA Grayson's case. One phone call was all it would take. He and Miray had nothing to worry about - as Troy was more than sure that Aslan would make the Commissioner pay for even considering going after his sister.
Troy nodded, taking a seat. "I'll send you anything I can find." With the knowledge that he wasn't clean by any means, all they needed to find was a good lead and it would be enough. Just one thing that connected him to something. Troy thought he knew where to look, he just had be careful with what he unveiled. "By the way, keep your eyes out for more fed and cop presence around. We're expecting some changes after the fires, I'll be involved so I'll give you details whenever I get them."
He doesn't turn up at the AG's office to start a fight, or rub Troy's nose into it. Despite the embarrassment of a suspension and the fallout that comes from it, Maddox is sound enough to recognize an emergency when he sees one. Certainly kinder and more sensitive than he appears, by the way he shows up with the usual orders (Ralph's coffee, doughnuts, and egg bites for the keto fanatics in the office). He's just made his rounds in the office before finally landing at the end, where the overworked Attorney General is poised.
"I brought you coffee." Maddox announces, lightly tapping at his office door. "And me; ready to work, two weeks early." He knows Troy would rather stick to his guns. But in the midst of every government official being brought up to task, it's a small thing to do away with the suspension.
Truthfully, his decision to suspend Maddox Hope that was in true nature for the younger man's well-being. Troy recognized a crash out from a mile away, he was too familiarized with the signs that he was sure that Charlie, his brother, often noticed when Troy went into one of those. Mourning did things to people. Fortunately for Troy, he had never tried to destroy his job, it was himself who he had tried to get rid of in his own way - without really meaning it. Looking up for the stacks of folders as he heard a knock on the door, Troy only watched at the yungest Hope stepped in. "Are you?" He removed his reading glasses, gesturing for him to sit. "Why the change of heart?"
Breslin heaved a sigh and nodded upon hearing the confirmation. Her first official calls were to fire chiefs around the city as they tried to organize to control the simultaneously ignited fires around the city, trying to get some quick insight as to what they needed in the moment to keep all of this under control. She'd made calls to departments close but outside the city itself to provide relief, and she'd done a bit to facilitate coordination between hospitals, though most of them had contingencies of their own for major events like this. It left her now with the exact questions Troy now posed. How on Earth did a group like this wield so much power to such violent ends without detection? How did they manage to escalate like this without so much as a soul knowing. "Inside job," she said flatly, her first impulse from years of experience seeing it, but her brow furrowed as she followed the thought. It would be a widespread web of such betrayals, a network so vast she could hardly comprehend it. The money, the influence... "We need people we can trust, and we need to make a plan with them. Harvey, some of his most trusted officers and detectives. We can't keep playing catch up. People are dead."
Troy nodded slowly, watching one of his best friends in the world as she processed everything. One didn't get to the role of Mayor without significant pull in the community, or without hard work. Breslin had sacrificed a lot for a city that Troy, himself, often put behind his own wants. For someone that had always been able to hide his involvement with the underworld, he struggled with being who he needed to be to lead that double life where Breslin was concerned. "I think Harvey needs to focus on resting." Troy admitted, though that was more for his own gain than the Police Commissioner. He would be involved in it, too, of course. But it was best to let him heal, see how seriously he would take the anonymous source now that it was his own blood on the ground. Standing up from his chair, Troy rubbed at his eyes gently, fully aware that he needed to make a move. "So, assemble a task force? The best of the best - people with clean records, maybe find a way to keep the information they find without any leaks?"
The hour was late, well and truly past when any reasonable person should be working, yet the grind so rarely halted in their world— nor did they allow themselves reprieve. Esra stood with her back against a pillar, watching the conference outside via her personal phone while its work counterpart sat cradled against one ear. Despite having run a marathon of briefings throughout the day, she had to admit this might have been Troy's best address yet. Prime for the coveted eight and ten o'clock spots on local and national channels, which she fully intended to push with her contacts before he'd even finished speaking.
The conversation around where this fit into the upcoming news segments faded slightly, some producer's paltry voice in her ear turning into little more than a drone as she instead hung on every word the Attorney General spoke. No better than some of the other livestream viewers whose shameless ogling in the comments flickered by in her periphery. Difficult to blame them. Something about his demeanor held that familiar, effortless confidence a little differently tonight. More authority and conviction towards the cause perhaps. Woven into a natural charisma in front of the public that others might spend their entire lifetimes attempting, and failing, to emulate. Admiration seemed too weak a sentiment for the swell in her chest when he ended the update and disappeared into the same lobby where she'd camped out for the last hour.
With a curve to her lips at the telltale prickle that she was being watched, her body turned of its own volition as if magnetically drawn to the unspoken pull of his approach. By the time he entered her orbit, no longer just some figment on a miniature screen, the work phone slowly lowered while the producer continued chattering away. “Just do it.” One thumb ended the call on him mid-sentence, the harsh cadence of her business voice contrasting so starkly against the way dark eyes softened at the edges, never leaving Troy's face.
Her agreement wasn't verbal, living only in the way she smiled privately, secretly, into the kiss. "You looked good out there." Understatement of the week, but a well-deserved compliment nonetheless. "More than ready," Esra affirmed, which felt significantly tamer than acknowledging how the weight of his touch meant she was already there. "An entire day in front of the cameras and you still want to make dinner for two. I think you're officially worse than me at this toxic productivity thing."
The smile on his face - one that he was used to pull off even when he wasn't genuinely happy - reached his eyes as it only ever did when it came to her; brighter and more open. To think that once upon a time, they had hid behind masks, that once upon a time Esra hadn't trusted him. It was almost silly now. Because Troy could barely remember a time when his world didn't seem to revolve around her and he didn't hang onto her every word. He never compared his feelings for her with the only other time that he had been in love; as Esra had once said, it wasn't the same. But he often did wonder how much of their lives had simple happened for them to end up where they were now.
Not at the Attorney General's office and planning what to have for dinner, but in a moment in time where everything had aligned for them to feel free enough to let each other know what they wanted. His hand rested on her lower back as she complimented him, uncharacteristically modest with her. Instead choosing to comment on her, clearly, harsh words as he approached her. "You look good when you're biting someone's head off." He had been in the receiving end of that more often than not before she had, somehow, decided to give him a chance.
"Are you calling me toxic because I want to cook for you? Tough crowd over here." He retorted lightly, a smile melting into his grave voice. Troy began leading her out of the building, the other way around, to the parking lot where his Aston Martin was waiting for them instead of the Yukon that usually came with a driver.
He reached over to place his hand on hers after he began driving, thumb drawing circles against her skin gently.. "Is it because you hate my cooking?" Troy asked after a moment of silence, eyes narrowed, although there was no real bite behind his words. He was confident in his cooking skills, however, he was curious.
"A bunch of men with big thighs tackling each other? Yes, yes i've watched it before. Can't say it's my favorite but it sure doesn't hurt the eyes," Cesar replied with a shrugged before looking out at his hands. He had opted for longsleeves tonight but the bandages on his hands were still visible. "It looks like someone who doesn't really give a shit about who lives or dies," he said with a bit more honesty than he expected. He took a few sips before answering Troy. "Not really but I haven't really been trying if I'm being honest. I kind of value my life. I mean I'm nosey but i'm not stupid. The more you mind your business, the better your chance to stay alive."
Troy merely smirked at his friend's answer, clearly as uninterested in rugby as the other man was. He was every cliche that people thought of when it came to people with generational wealth, except for being an athlete. The closest he ever did to that was horseback riding when the Windsor's spent summers in Upstate or in Europe. "You think?" Troy thought the opposite, actually. It seemed to him, based on the victims taken by the fire, and the fact that he didn't recognize any of them - that you became an easier target if you knew less. "You're saying that you think the three women that died at the fires knew too much? My gut is telling me that the less you know, the more helpless you are." He admitted, his tone more serious than usual.
The silence sat between them long enough for Charlie to feel the weight of every word he hadn’t yet said. He drug his hand over his chin, more to give himself something to do than because it helped, and let out a breath that sounded tired even to him. The world had seven billion people in it, give or take, but for Charlie it had always narrowed to one. Troy. His little brother, no matter the suits he wore or the office he held. He still saw the freckled face kid with scabbed knees with too much faith in his older brother. The same kid who used to look over his shoulder and expect Charlie to know what to do.
His gaze stayed lowered, fixed on the floorboards while his thumb scraped across the center of his palm until the skin flushed. The quiet pressed closer. At last, he lifted his eyes. “You remember Ana?” Even now, saying her name made his jaw tighten until it ached. “I found out what she was holding over your head.” He didn’t fill in the rest. He didn’t have to. Ana Bartone had half the city ready to crown her before the ballots were even counted. Then it started coming apart piece by piece, right around the time the federal agents showed up. By the end of that week, her name was enough to clear a room. Charlie leaned back in the chair and then his shoulders lifted once. “I took care of it.” His voice remained steady despite the weight of the truth his words held. “If I had to guess, that’s what they’ve got on me.”
Troy hadn't thought that much about his past rival if he were being honest. He had ran for Attorney General at the highest of his addiction to substances and narcotics. It was a miracle that he even remembered her name. Back then, Troy hadn't functioned properly - if at all. So as Charlie's words finally registered in his brain, Troy couldn't help but focus on the fact that his older brother was, not only the reason why he now had his title, but that he had cleaned up after his mess once again. This time without Troy even realizing it. It wasn't hard to put two and two together as Charlie mentioned taking care of it, and for a moment there was only silence. Troy only stared back at Charles with an almost empty expression on his face. "You-" Troy started, face finally falling. Despite how it looked, his reaction had very little to do with how he won his elections, but rather his entire focus was on what Charlie had sacrificed for him to get there.
It didn't matter that his brother was used to dealing with things worse than this situation, it mattered that Troy was just finding out. That very likely, an anonymous force that some of the most powerful criminal organizations in the city couldn't beat, could now know this and use it against Charlie. "You need to tell me exactly what you did," he said slowly. Because once Troy knew everything, then he would make sure that nothing could ever get back to his older brother - even if it cost him. Troy was careful with his job and how he handled it and he wouldn't change his M.O. with this, but he was fully aware that with how much he had been hiding recently, he needed to be even smarter. "You should've told me. As soon as it happened, you should have told me."
Most of the time it was Breslin who'd deal with certain people, but there were times when the deputy mayor would make her push. Right then and there it wasn't just her reality of that job tied to her, but something much further that brought her there. Perhaps the ever-pressing and constant assaults on people's privacy and safety had bothered the brunette. There was some irony in the fact that the hacker masking as a public figure would find herself bothered by the situation at hand, but there were the recent fires and so much more that she had yet to fully grasp beyond what was known.
"Thank you for meeting with me." She paused as she got comfortable. "I was rather hoping we could have a little talk about some things." Oh she was tired of it already, the topic. She just wanted them to be gone, wiped off the face of New York. "It's been rather messy recently." And Troy seemed among those good to consider an ally, if he was willing.
Troy was curious about the woman's request for a meeting. Though he knew what it could be about, or at least had an idea, he did wonder how someone who claimed to be so proper would bring up the Pantheon and what was happening in New York. Call him jaded, the only person in politics whose ethics he did not question was his best friend, Mayor Breslin Royce. He didn't judge other for living their lives like he did, lying and manipulating those around him - but he was always curious about how they decided to show their true colors. He only nodded, gesturing for Leah to take a seat. "Coffee?" He offered as he picked up his phone, planning to call his assistant. "Messy isn't the word I'd use but considering how much has happened, I'd like to know what we're talking about here."
LOCATION: Attorney General's office building in Manhattan
It seemed as if Troy went from one press conference to another. With six figures across the city, and the announcement about them being arson to the public, the media was working overtime. Which meant that Troy was, too. Along with every government employee that was available. They had to be unified, appear strong, when in reality there was not much revealed of whoever was behind the murders of three women and the injuries of several others.
With the last press conference taking place on the front steps of the building, Troy finally stepped back into the safety of it - camera flashes, and questions from reporters still heard through the massive front doors. However, all he could see was Esra Durmaz right on the spot he'd left her, waiting for him. Obviously working while she did. A workaholic, just like Troy. The smile on his face appeared right away when he began walking in her direction.
"Could get used to this, you know?" Troy teased lightly as reached her, leaning down to press a quick kiss to her lips, one of his hands reaching up to the side of her neck. At work, no less. Though, to be fair, everyone was too focused on getting out of the building. It was late, everyone was working for way longer than needed. Which led to his next words to his girlfriend. "Ready to go home? I was thinking we could skip takeout and I could cook instead."
"I'm just saying, if you keep stressing so much that little vein in the center of your head is going to pop. And you're too handsome for that. We're in a shortage of handsome men these days, didn't you know?" Cesar laughed, putting his cigar dow for a moment before reaching for his drink as they sat in the outdoor space of the bar. It was crowded, and Cesar preferred, feeling like no one would be listening too closely to their conversation. "I'm serious though. Is shit really as bad as people are saying it is? No leads, no sign of who's causing all this chaos? I mean they're doing a pretty damn good job but listen to me, I'm supposed to be making your stress less. Let's talk about something less stressful like...sports."
Troy shrugged lightly, taking a drag of his own cigar. He could handle pressure just fine, it was that whoever was playing games was crossing lines that he'd yet to witness from a group like theirs. "You like rugby?" Sports had never been much of his focus, if anything horseback riding at the ranch, maybe tossing a rugby ball. Despite Cesar's offer to change the topic, Troy didn't spend too long without bringing it back up. "There's not been an official announcement, but you tell me what six fires across the city on the same day look like to you?" People would have to be stupid not to realize that something was happening, and to Troy's dislike, it seemed to be getting out of their hands. "Have you heard anything?"
By now, the pair of them were well past the need for pleasantries or prior warning when appearing at the other's home, particularly in situations like this. She'd spent the evening trying to use everything in her power as mayor to leverage resources and emergency funding to combat the surge of fires across the city as well as the casualties that inevitably stemmed from them. By the time she pushed the door open to Troy's office, she probably looked like she'd been through a storm--hair up, glasses on top of her head and dressed for comfort rather than a press conference. She dropped into a chair with a heavy sigh, purse hitting the floor as she placed her phone face-down on top of his desk while she waited for him to finish his call.
"She's home, we're good--" she answered, waving a hand half-heartedly as she used the other to rub her eyes. "Esra and Charlie?" she shot back, though she knew the answer. Troy would not be quite so even-keeled if either of them were in any kind of danger. "How the fuck does this happen?"
"They're fine." Esra was in the other room, either sleeping or using her connections to get more information on anything that they had yet to hear about. And Charlie had been his first call after he'd learned about the fires. It seemed easy enough for Troy to understand, these fires were planned and perfectly executed by people that had too many resources. No warning, no time to react. The loss of lives though, although not yet confirmed, meant that they were escalating. Pantheon, that was. Troy tried to figure out how to approach the subject of Pantheon, taking a deep breath. "I don't know, Breslin. How does a bomb end up in an island that was closed since 1993? How do they know about something that you did even before you became Mayor - something that deeply buried?"
A nod of his head conveyed his understanding and agreement that Harvey had racked up a number of enemies across the city - spanning into the innerworkings and outward. "Made a good reputation for himself." Good being a sarcastic hit in all sense. "I'm looking into it. Let you know what I can find." The police commissioner had a particular talent for playing every side and then again against each other, and that was precisely what had caused Aslan to decline any deals with Harvey. Though he'd proven useful once or twice, there always would be the larger paranoia that lived in the back of Aslan's mind that Harvey was waiting for the day to fuck him over. A day that would be cold in hell. For the moment the commissioners usefulness stopped outweighing his predictability, his worth dissolved entirely. "Also having someone look into him personally." There wasn't further need to state that a hacker was who was reaching into Harvey's life. It was obvious, in Aslan's eyes. "Anything else you think is worth looking at, let me know."
Troy sat down to move some of the folders he'd brought with him, as he was currently looking into old case files, from before Harvey was even Police Commissioner. If there was something to find, Troy would find it - without a doubt. "He has a lot of power as the Commissioner, but his reputation matters greatly. Anything that we can find that affects that would be good." Although it seemed like something very small, Knight was sitting there because the Mayor had appointed him, so that was another angle that Troy could work on. If Breslin could even smell that Harvey wasn't in his position with the purest of intentions, she'd see to it that he could never work again in law enforcement in New York. The thing was that Troy had to be careful to ensure she didn't know about his own meddling in that world.
"If he has been doing this to Esra, there are others. If we can trace some of his bank accounts somehow, maybe we could find something there." Illicit payments, tax evasion, so many things that the Commissioner was very clearly doing based on what Troy had just found out. "I'm looking at every single one of his cases, if I find anything I'll let you know."
To his credit, Troy sat patiently as the complicated story snaked through intentional holes in her memory, revisiting rooms with doors that were closed long ago and eventually avoided altogether. Until, at last, there it all stood in full contrast. Every sordid detail dug up from the grave she’d buried them in, forced out of the darkness and into the blistering light. A fragile branch of trust Esra never willingly bestowed to those outside of her family and more raw of a confession than anything else she could give him. The unequivocal message underpinned all of it and she could only hope that he read it in her eyes: I love you. I love you. I love you.
Pity sat the furthest distance in her mind, neither a requirement nor desire, but it felt strangely nice to hear someone apologize for what they endured. Nobody ever had. So they all marched forward, more machines than people as a means to keep from shattering under the weight of their collective trauma. Instinctively, because every impulse when it came to Troy defied logical thought, she leaned into his hand and let herself rest there for awhile. No need to soldier on, not tonight.
Before her mind fully adjusted to the realization that he clearly planned to stay after hearing an entire odyssey, he took it a step further by reaffirming his infamous declaration from a year prior— the very same remark which propelled forward every interaction coaxing them to this point. Allowing another person to take care of her was perhaps the most foreign concept of all, but he earned the trust necessary to grant it. He'd earned everything. Awed silence seemed a welcome reprieve from all the monologue as her eyes traced every angle of his perfectly sculpted face, startlingly aware that she would be more than content to memorize it from the safety of his arms for the rest of her life.
"Just you and Aslan. I haven't even told Miray yet." And it felt horrendous keeping something this important from her.
Although the beginning of their relationship had been the opposite, it was simple for Troy to take on the weight off her shoulders. Second nature, almost. He would do anything for her, even if she didn't ask him - finding out that she'd been dealing with this by herself was enough to infuriate him. The fact that the police commissioner was behind it made it even worse.
"This won't a problem for you anymore." Because even if Harvey ever tried anything against her or her siblings, Troy wouldn't ever allow that to happen. He kissed her forehead gently, his arms still around her. She didn't need to worry anymore, she never had to, for even if Troy was unaware of this happening, he would protect her family in every way that he could from the position that he was in.
"I think I'm advocating for due fucking diligence." He barrels back, argumentative for sport. That's why Troy brought him in the DA's office in the first place. The last thing Maddox ever condoned was peace, especially for causes he was passionate about. "You and the police put things to bed without turning out the sheets. Like my cousin's murder is just a foregone conclusion." And he's keenly away of how Troy sees him; the over-emotional, childish Hope who put his government's office on display. But he would be remiss not to argue, "What would you do if it was someone you loved, hm? Just bite your tongue and play the dutiful ADA?"
All Troy did was take a deep breath as the younger man continued to press him on the investigation. It was easy for Troy to lie though, he was used to it in ways that Maddox Hope would never understand. The ADA was completely unaware of the fact that Troy's family had become just an statistic years ago - their killer never found. The very system that he had to make work every day had failed him in the worst possible way after he had lost everything. He didn't care for sharing that with someone that worked for him, whose priorities seemed to not align with the department at the moment. "If you want to be on the other side, you can do that Maddox. I am not here to babysit you or to monitor your temper tantrums. You are here to do your job, which includes putting your duty over your personal opinion." Troy wasted no time to let him that he was, indeed, suspended. "Take the time off, clearly you need it."
He answered his brother with nothing more than a one shouldered shrug, his attention fixed on the last of his burger as he finished it off. Yet when Troy mentioned the his distraction methods at the masquerade, Charlie finally looked at him again, though he didn't reply immediately. Instead, he let the question settle, turning over his answer in silence before giving a small shake of his head, the gesture as instinctive as breathing. It came from the part of him that had always been the older brother, the one who had long since learned to shoulder his own burdens and keep his baby brother clear of the fallout whenever he could.
"No." Charlie didn't want him involved. "You're dealing with your own shit, and Esra's." He waved Troy off before taking a drink, as if that small gesture might settle the matter once and for all, but it did nothing to still the truth that pressed at the back of his mind. Of all the damning things he had done in his life, there was one that refused to remain buried, rising again and again with the weight of regret. It wouldn't just ruin him, it would drag his brother down with him too. Charlie would burn down the city before he allowed that to happen. "Besides, it was just karaoke. Think I did pretty damn good, if you ask me."
Troy's eyebrows furrowed together at his older brother's words. Deflecting was normal, but straight up hearing him say that he wouldn't share it with him - that was new. Troy sat up, his eyes scanning his brother as if a complete stranger was sitting across from him instead. "Now I'm worried. Why don't you want to tell me?" See, he understood that Charlie was the older brother. He had always protected Troy, crash out after crash out, after the accident. He was always there. And though Troy was aware that his brother and Aslan had unlimited resources, Troy could still help in ways that they didn't have unless he provided them.
Scoffing lightly, Troy set his burger down and folded his arms across his chest, clearly not buying it. "Oh well, what I did is something that I do all the time. Also do it well, but we all agreed it was a problem, so we'll go ahead and group it with mine." It wasn't that Troy needed to know. It was that he wanted to help, just like Charlie had always helped him.
