HEY, i think i just saw WILLIAM PETER WEISS walking down the strip. stop by to catch up and you’ll learn the FIFTY EIGHT YEAR OLD is working as a GODFATHER/ DON OF THE WEISS FAMILY and lives in THE WEISS MANOR. given they are AUTHORITATIVE but VOLATILE, it’s likely that they ARE NOT a vampire. on the flipside, rumor has it that HE IS RESPONSIBLE FOR HIS OLDER SIBLING’S DEATH, HAVING HAD GOTTEN RID OF THEM SO HE COULD ACHIEVE HIS GOALS, and it keeps them looking over their shoulder . i bet you can find them tearing up the dance floor to ALL ALONG THE WATCHTOWER BY JIMMI HENDRIX and you’ll know why they’re called THE DEADLY EYE. ☾ .⭒˚ mads mikkelsen. cis man + he/him. heterosexual + scorpio.
basics
Full Name: William Peter Weiss
Age: Fifty-eight
DOB: 1938, November 2nd
Height: 6′4″
Built: Lean muscular
Hair colour: dark blonde/grey
Eye colour: brown
Gender & Pronouns: Cis man & he/him
Orientation: Heterosexual & heteromantic
Occupation: The Godfather
Association: The Weiss family
Relationship status: Engaged
Family status: three daughters
tw: implied murder
basics
Strong men are made, not born.
That was something William’s father used to say to his sibling when they were growing up. Not to William, never; as far as their father was concerned, that phrase did not suit the younger boy. It infuriated William, being reduced to someone who was barely there, someone who wasn’t worthy, when, in fact, he was. He knew his worth even then, and he knew that the anger towards his father and his sibling was only making him work harder towards acceptance, towards recognition. With the competition, a sense of being unworthy surrounding him, William grew up resentful, and more than willing to stand up for himself and what he was after.
As the world began to collapse around them, moving to the United States seemed like the logical next step. His father was already building somehing so promising, and whilst his sibling was bound to take over the family business, William knew that he could do so much better. He worked hard, building up on his own career, watching for the sidelines, waiting for the next opportunity, the step he could take to prove to everyone that he wasn't weak. That he could do so much.
Even if William's ideas were fresh and promising, his father, who was slowly succumbing to his age, refused to listen. His sibling was promised the chance to take over, and it infuriated the young. And when the sibling just disappeared one night, never to be seen again, nothing was question. His father, as if having had expected it, allowed William to take over the family reigns. Almost as if it was a sign, the move everyone had been expecting. Finally having had gotten what he wanted, William dove head first, working hard to prove that he was worth it, that he could make their family name to be the most feared and respected in the entire city, if not the entire region.
Then she came. They met on an absolutely impossible chance, and the love that blossomed amongst them was just as impossibly unique. William never thought he could love someone so much, not after the childhood he had, the neglect he had gone through. With her, he knew why people do stupid things for love, why they were so easy to manipulate; he did just the same, making every single wish of hers come true, showing the softest side of him only to her.
When their daughters came into this world, one shortly after another, it looked promising. William was busy with the matters concerning his family business, having to expand, take over the city once ruled by another family. He was ambitious, and whilst that translated easily into his business, over the time, his family life began to crumble. He wanted for his daughters to follow in his footsteps, and whilst it was inevitable, his wife still resisted. Perhaps it was human of her, to not wish for his lifestyle upon anyone, but he was far too gone to see it. It wasn‘t just a job for William, it was his whole life and then some more. The sacrifices, the blood, sweat and guts he had poured into it was overwhelming, and he wasn‘t going to leave it all behind even for the love of his life.
The falling out continued for years; nowadays, William knows that she probably wasn‘t willing to give up the extremely lavish lifestyle that he could offer to her and his daughters. Perhaps he foolishly believed that love for him was keeping her around. So, when one night got home to find her with her bags packed, he lost it. Words were exchanged, hearts were broken, and when the morning came, he was all alone.
His wife’s disappearance was quickly shoved under multiple rugs, with him refusing to talk about it even to his daughters. Instead, William dove head-first into his work, ruling the city stricter and harsher than ever before. His family life was reduced to keeping his daughters around, throwing money at their needs whenever anything was said, and refusing to speak a word of their mother. Instead, he pushed them harder than before, wanting to prove to his wife that his plan was successful, that he could put enough pressure and he would have three wonderfully strong diamonds in his hands.
Over the years, whilst William played the unfortunate widower quite well, his bed didn’t remain cold for too long. Whether it was someone trying to get something out of him, or someone trying to win his appreciation, it never lasted a long time. The man, ruthless than ever, was devoted to being the king, being feared and respect more than ever before. But the king also needed a valuable successor, and even whilst his daughters fought and crumbled around him, he saw no proper potential. Knowing that the empire he built could not end with him, William began his search, needing to find someone like him. Someone who, one day, could be even better than him.
You have been doing the bare minimum. That stung, far more than she'd wanted it to. "What the fuck are you talking about!?" she snapped back, unable to contain her full-blown rage at this point. How could he even say that? That didn't make any sense! And it wasn't fucking fair. And sure, 'life wasn't far,' she'd heard it all before, but if she wasn't going to get what she wanted out of this then what the hell was the point? Why was she running herself fucking ragged, trying to reach his expectations when clearly, she'd never, ever make the cut. What do you think happens afterwards? The higher you go up, the less work you do? Or that everyone pats you on the back for the smallest things you've done? His words cut her deep, as if to say that she was just a lazy do-nothing. "No, Dad, of course not but you won't even give me a fucking chance!" She was grasping at straws now--besides, it's not like you were able to test-run being the underboss to see if it worked out. That's not how it fucking worked. You either had it or you didn't. And it would seem as if he had determined that she didn't have it. Just like Sev had said he would.
Exactly. I made my way to the top. I clawed my way up there, did things you could never even think of doing. You are not me. You do not have what it takes to build an empire from a small ember, and to maintain it and keep it growing. You do not know the sacrifices it takes. She could feel the lump in her throat forming but she couldn't fucking let her tears well up. Digging her nails into her palm to keep herself from crying, she searched for something to say, something that would somehow prove his words incorrect but she had nothing. Because this very moment was the moment that all of her deep-seeded fears and insecurities had been dreading. This was her worst fucking nightmare come true--her father confirming that no, he in fact didn't believe that she had what it took to make it in this business, in his business. It was those words that were already ringing in her head, the words that would continue to ring in her head for god knows how long: You do not have what it takes. Suddenly, it's as if her world was crashing down all around her--almost everything she did, she did out of yearning for her father's approval. Yes, she'd secretly fallen in love with the enemy and yes, she was using again because quite frankly, her addiction was the only thing that helped her rid herself of all the stress and pressure that rest on her shoulders. Maybe she truly didn't have what it took to run the family business. Maybe her father was actually right. Maybe she truly was nothing.
So congratulations, you have been just like all the people who work for me. How does that make you stand out? All you have going for you is that you are my daughter. But you are not proving yourself to be good at it. You will never be my underboss just because you feel like you deserve it. And there it was. His last words suggested that perhaps, there was still a way to prove herself, but it didn't even sound like he had faith in her to accomplish much of anything. And more importantly, she couldn't fucking take this anymore. Maybe she didn't have what it took to be a part of this family after all. And for the first time in a long fucking time, maybe that was actually a good thing. And as much as she wanted to hold her head high and walk away from her father with her last shreds of dignity, she couldn't. Because when it came to her father, she'd always be that little girl who vied for his attention and wanted nothing more than to hear him say that he was proud of her. And so instead, her eyes welled up with tears and she couldn't hold her fury in any longer. "Oh, FUCK YOU!" she screamed, reaching out with her manicured hand and attempting to scratch his face. She threw all of her weight at her father, going for his face and trying to enact some sort of physical revenge. Of course, it was all for naught. He towered over her and she knew that he was stronger than her by far but she didn't fucking care. If she was going to go out, she was going to go out in a blind rage because that's all she had left inside of her.
“Do not raise yourself on a pedestal just because you have done what’s asked of you.” He warned her, although he highly doubted that she was even actually listening to him anymore. The kind of anger William could see in his daughter was familiar to him, although years, decades ago, he had taught himself how to control it. How to express it in ways that were beneficial to him, ways that were perhaps a little more controversial. And whilst it didn’t happen all the time, it worked, and he couldn’t not see the same in Romi. Instead, his daughter’s anger was raw, fuelled by whatever pain she seemed to feel, and yet it did not make him back down. If she wanted to demand for things after making a fool out of him, then he was going to treat her like any other worker of his.
William could almost see the wheels turning in Romi’s head whilst she processed his words. By no means did he consider himself to be harsh towards her; she clearly needed to hear the reality of things, the fact that she could not live up to his expectations. It would either make her crash and back away or work even hard to get what she’s after, although he wasn’t sure if the latter was even possible. Normally, it should have pained him to know that none of his own children could actually live up to his expectations, but today, he had other things to worry about. Perhaps one of his daughters not responding to the invite was the least of his troubles.
He was expecting another barrage of words, of more whining, but as Romi suddenly lunged at him, he was caught off guard. Granted, she couldn’t really do much damage to him – not with the differences between them – but it infuriated William nevertheless. He wasn’t one to raise his hands to his children, but this had crossed the line, so when he slapped Romi across her face, in hopes of pushing her away and forcing her to pull himself together, he didn’t even feel all too bad about it. “Enough.” He barked out an order, looking down at his daughter. “You do not raise your hands against me unless you don’t want to have hands.” He threated her. It was still mercy; anyone even willing to attack him did not get to see the next sunrise. “You do not raise your voice against me unless you don’t want to have a tongue anymore.” It wouldn’t be the first time that threat had come to life, either. His path was filled with violence, he just hoped he’d never have to do that to his own children, too. “I’m done with you. You do not get to disrespect me in public and in private and still consider yourself deserving of my money or my presence.” He took a step back, fixing his hair and his jacket; whilst Romi did not reach and scratch his face, the altercation was somewhat visible in the way he looked. And that was the last thing he needed before going back into the ballroom.
“Security will escort you out of the premises and out of the apartment I had so kindly given you. If you cannot behave as a Weiss, then you do not get the luxuries that come with being one.”
Looking at the man in front of her, she couldn't help but feel a sense of hollowness from him, like he wasn't all there--not mentally, of course, but emotionally. He seemed...detached. But that's just what she was picking up. Perhaps she was wrong. And even if she was right, she couldn't really blame a man like him in his position for feeling detached. She couldn't imagine how else someone could carry out acts that were so cruel. Hell, the way he'd pulled away his own daughter from the crowd told her all that she needed to know about his expectations that he put upon his children. Though Alice didn't really know the youngest Weiss daughter personally, she did know that her twin was the girl's sponsor and though she couldn't prove it, and really didn't intend to, she wondered if the girl was using again. There was no judgement on Alice's part, of course. She was an ex-addict herself.
Anyone with enough money to their name could host it at the Flamingo or anywhere else. If I was to follow what anyone else was doing, would I really be worthy of my name and reputation, Ms. Pallas? He had a point and it was clear that William Weiss was hellbent on making sure he stood out--but it wasn't desperate and it wasn't tacky. It was calculated. Image was clearly very important to him, which made his youngest daughter that much more of an issue that had to be dealt with. Chuckling, she nodded and said "I suppose that's true. It would seem you've always had that reputation." She was pretty well-versed with the recent history of the Weiss family but she'd done her research once her boss had told her she'd be covering the wedding. "It's quite imposing, really. It seems like you've always been willing to do whatever it takes to be on top--and your ambitions have obviously paid off," she said, gesturing to the grand ballroom that they were sitting in. "Do you have any advice for those with similar ambitions?"
"Has it always been that obvious?" William questioned the journalist, although his tone was almost light. He would much rather prefer to talk about himself, about tonight, about his new wife, than allow the other to think too much about the drama that had gone down. Besides, he'd lie if he said he wasn't used to having attention on himself; despite everything that he did, the empire he had built, he was still a public figure. It was part of his game, part of what made him so intimidating to the public; being so almost-approachable yet also so deadly. Perhaps that's what worked, bringing such a lifestyle out in the public, and making them fear you for not being the man in the shadows, but being the scary man out in the open.
"That's quite the compliment, however." He had to give her credit where credit was due, even if her anyone else could easily mistake it for something worse. So, playing the game, William paused, almost as if considering an answer to her question. "There is one. Never let anyone in on what made you successful. They'll step all over you and steal your ideas." It wasn't really advice, even if it was shaped like one; despite opening his mansion's doors to the public, he wasn't going to open the door on anything else.
You do not get to question my decisions. Neither in public nor in private. She couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh. This was so fucking typical. And did he have a right to be mad? Absolutely. She'd fucked up and she knew it. She couldn't deny that. But she also couldn't regret what she'd said--she couldn't let herself take it back, neither in public, nor in private, as her father had said. What's done was done. And she wasn't as stupid as she looked. She understood the hierarchy, she knew that he called the shots and no one else. But these said shots weren't fucking fair.
The speech was a simple task. If you cannot behave in front of the press, when can you behave? His words made her angrier this time around. "I have been behaving!" she yelled back. "What the fuck do you think I've been doing for the past two, almost three years!? I'm your fucking sous chef in your shitty ass restaurant, I hold business meetings for you and entertain your shareholders, and I have been the face of our business! People know that when they want to make a deal with William Peter Weiss, the come to see me to try and get some face time with you! Please tell me how that does not constitute as behaving?" Was she entitled? Sure. But had she not been raised to be entitled? After all, when your father walks around as if he's got the world on a string, what else is one supposed to think about their own potential? Didn't greatness beget greatness and all that bullshit?
However, when his frown turned into a sick smile, she felt her stomach lurch. Whatever anger he felt, he was now turning it into a game, as he always did. That's the thank you I get for providing you with everything you have? For still providing for you? For giving you one chance after another, for giving you the life of luxury anyone could dream of? He wasn't exactly wrong, yet she was furious either way. "I'm not asking you to give me the world in return for nothing, Daddy! I'm asking you to give me what is rightfully mine!" she yelled. Immediately, she knew that she'd made a mistake but just like her speech, the words had slipped out and it was all out on the table now. She obviously believed that the role of underboss was hers for the taking--even when she was the youngest. But had she not learned by example? "Is it such a crime that I want to do what you did? You were also the youngest, yet you made your way to the top! Why do you not think that I could do the same?" Of course, her uncle had conveniently passed away right before her father had become the heir to the throne, something she had her own thoughts about, but now wasn't the time to delve into that. Right now, she wanted to know why. Why wasn't anything that she did good enough for him?
Do you know what Cherry and Elias are doing now? The very same people you can't even attempt to trust? They're out there fixing your fuck up. And I know that, because they have actually worked to gain my trust. "So have I!" she protested. "I have done everything that you've asked me to do!" Okay, sure, the speech had been a disaster--but that speech was also the culmination of a realization that no matter what she did, her father never intended on giving her the job she wanted. Up until then, she'd been willing to just about anything to gain her father's approval. Yet, it still wasn't enough. And now he'd just confirmed it: You had the imagination to ever think I'd give you more? "I have been at your beck and call for years. I have jumped through every hoop and given you what you wanted! And now you're just going to stand there and act like it was nothing? Act like I haven't earned that spot of underboss? You know I fucking I deserve it!"
Her head was starting to pound by now and she knew that she was starting to comedown, which was not helping her in the slightest. Still, this argument had been simmering on the backburner for at least a year by now and even though she knew she was actively digging her own grave, she still felt relief for finally saying the words that had been on the tip of her tongue for what felt like forever. "Petra is gone, Cass doesn't want it anymore, but I want it!" Shaking her head in a sort of disbelief, she said "What more do I have to fucking do to prove that to you?... To prove that I fucking deserve it?" She knew that she sounded like a petulant child right now but she couldn't stop herself, now that it was all finally coming out. She had half the heart to bring up their mother but she held back, at least for now.
"You have been doing the bare minimum." William barked out once she listed out her achievements. As far as he was concerned, it was nothing. All of it was nothing but mere assignments, things that she was supposed to do. Did she ever go above and beyond? Showcase the skills a true leader needed? Not as far as he was concerned. Once, a long time ago, he had seen his qualities in her, yet the drive just wasn't there. And perhaps, after tonight, it would never be there. "What do you think happens afterwards? The higher you go up, the less work you do? Or that everyone pats you on the back for the smallest things you've done?" He questioned her, struggling to contain his anger underneath the regular cool facade. The man who had burned his daughters' dollhouse was still there, and the punishments nowadays were far, far worse.
"Nothing is rightfully yours you pathetic little brat. You have to work to earn what's yours, and not just play a pretty face whenever that's requested of you." He warned her, jaw clenching as she kept her attitude up. The little tasks, the assignments he sent her on over the years were nothing compared to the things that she'd have to end up doing if she was to go any further up in this hierarchy. Yet, clearly, she had no idea exactly what she wanted, and Romi comparing herself to him all those years ago made him laugh. He was still fueled by the anger and the annoyance of her silly little speech, but her demands were nothing more but a toddler's requests and foot stomping when the doll they were after wasn't there. "Exactly. I made my way to the top. I clawed my way up there, did things you could never even think of doing. You are not me. You do not have what it takes to build an empire from a small ember, and to maintain it and keep it growing. You do not know the sacrifices it takes." His tone had turned cold, without any regard towards his youngest daughter whatsoever. She was right that he had once been the youngest child in the family, but that was where their similiarities - apart from another unfortunate one - ended. She did not have the guts, the brains, the stamina to do what he did. And tonight's speech was a perfect proof of that, of her inability to manage and control herself.
"So congratulations, you have been just like all the people who work for me. How does that make you stand out? All you have going for you is that you are my daughter. But you are not proving yourself to be good at it." He knew his words stung, he knew that they had to be so painful to hear. But he knew it was correct, he knew Romi had to hear them at once. It would either break her or move her forward, and it was all up to her. "You are not taking over the hard work I've put in just because you feel like you deserve it. And if you have no idea how to prove yourself, that only drives my point forward." He was back to being his cold and cruel self, and if his daughter was at least smart enough (altough, after tonight's fiasco, he was doubting that), she'd know that it was time to take a hint. "You will never be my underboss just because you feel like you deserve it."
She smiled as the don talked about his bride. Did she believe it? Not really, though frankly, whether he was or wasn't in love wasn't really her business, nor was it the real reason that she'd agreed to cover this event. Getting in close proximity to a powerful family like the Weisses gave her access to information and perhaps if she hadn't been given 'warnings' before, she might even try her hand at sneaking around the huge mansion. However, she'd seen where sneaking had gotten her before--like, at the casino event last spring. So she was trying her best to not get herself into more trouble than she already had. "Well, you know what they say--it's the best day of your life," she smiled. She was familiar with the excitement and odd adrenaline that a wedding brought. She'd experienced it herself once, a long time ago.
"Of course," she said with a polite smile. There's no better place to start a new life than your own home. Besides, it isn't every day that we have the chance to open our home to the rest of the public to enjoy as well. It was certainly an interesting sentiment. At a time like this, especially after a display such as Romi's, Alice wished that these walls could talk and tell her all of the secrets they contained. She could only imagine what had happened at this house. "If you don't mind me asking, why did you decide to open up your home to the public? Why bother hosting it yourself when you could have it at, say, the Flamingo or another luxurious hotel?" She certainly knew the Weisses would never post up at somewhere like, say, the Riviera, for obvious reasons, but her suggestion of the Flamingo wasn't random, either. After all, it had been built by the founder of Las Vegas himself, infamous mobster Bugsy Siegel. Would it not be fitting for a mafioso to host his own wedding at a mobster's hotel?
"It is indeed." And once more, the fake smile did not reach his eyes. It was far from the best day of his life, not with one of his daughter's refusing to attend and the other throwing a yet another fit. There was so much that was happening behind the scenes, so much that Alice did not need to know about, so many that many, if not all, attendees tonight did not need to know about. So for now, William was going to go around and pretend that all was fine, because no one in their right mind was going to question him otherwise.
Finishing up his glass of champagne, he placed it on the passing by waiter's tray before looking back at the journalist, almost as if considering her question. He was surprised he hadn't heard it yet, but then again, she was just doing her job. And maybe, if she kept this up and understood the right assignment, she would be doing a fairly decent job. "Anyone with enough money to their name could host it at the Flamingo or anywhere else." He reasoned with her after a moment of consideration. "If I was to follow what anyone else was doing, would I really be worthy of my name and reputation, Ms Pallas?"
Was it really what you were planning to say in front of all of those people? All you could manage after being given such a simple task? She didn't respond to his question right away. Because truthfully, she wasn't sure of the answer herself. Had she been planning to say all of that? The truth was, initially, no. She'd spent the entire week attempting to write her speech and then trashing it, each time feeling more phony than the next. She'd started out well--but she just couldn't let it go. She couldn't let any of this go, really. Was she entitled? Sure. But didn't he appreciate her work? Didn't he notice how hard she was vying for his approval? Sure, maybe it was all shot to tell now but until she'd gone up there and started speaking into that microphone, she hadn't made one blunder (at least, she hoped to his knowledge) since before she'd gone to rehab for the first time. This was her first big slip-up. And did he care why she'd said it? She doubted it. But she wanted so badly for him to ask anyways. Are you okay? What's going on? Instead, he was clearly angry. She certainly couldn't blame him for that.
"No, it wasn't," she said honestly. She shook her head as she looked down, trying to decide if it was even worth it to choose her next words carefully or not. "But that doesn't make it untrue. And you know it!" She then let out a chuckle, figuring she might as well finish the job she'd started. No way her father was giving her shit now--and she still wanted to know why. Why had he not recognized all of her hard work for the past two-and-a-half-years? Why did he not see her potential? And while she wanted to ask him, she was a little too afraid to hear his answers--so instead, she figured she'd keep lashing out. "You also know that this fucking wedding is a sham. You hardly even know this woman and now she's our new mommy? And Elias? He's so clearly out for his-fucking-self, how can you not see that!?" She understood what Cherry and Elias got out of this marriage: they got money, security, nobility, all of it--but what the fuck did he get out of it? Quite frankly, Romi saw them as a threat and nothing more. They were a threat to all that she'd worked hard to earn. "Daddy, what is even the point of all this? Why all the pomp and circumstance? Is it just a distraction?" She knew her father well enough to know that he never did anything without good reason. So why this? Why now?
"And the speech was not a simple task," she stated, as if it were an obvious fact. "You wanted me to go up there and make you look good--make you look like a loving, doting father and family man. But that was never you. So why do you want everyone to think it is? Who's it fucking for? The press!?" This was clearly all pageantry. If it wasn't, he wouldn't have called the Las Vegas Sun to bear witness.
Here she was, standing in silence, and it took everything in William not to snap at her. Did she think she have the right to speak of him and their family to the public in such a manner? He was furious, and his anger was growing with every passing second, and here she was, not even looking apologetic. What kind of children had he raised? What kind of legacy was he leaving behind when none of them could behave properly?William clenched his jaw as she finally spoke, waiting for further explanation. He remained silent as she continued to whine, watching her collapse in on herself like a dying sun. Even that was giving her credit; no, she was simply acting out, probably hoping that it would somehow make things better. Still, he allowed her to speak, dig her own grave even further, his stare growing colder by the second.
"You do not get to question my decisions. Neither in public nor in private." William warned her, his tone ice cold. He wasn't going to have his own daughter question him as to why he was marrying Cherry. He had his reasons, and, granted, love wasn't exactly one of them, but that had long been impossible. Love went away with her mother, and it was replaced by something else. But it wasn't up to Romi to call him out on it, not with how untrustworthy she was.
"Are you done?" He finally questioned her at her last question, if one could call it that. It was a brat's meltdown, nothing more, and it had to be the last one she'd get to do in his presence. "The speech was a simple task. If you cannot behave in front of the press, when can you behave?" His face twisted into a smile, although it wasn't the fake nice one he had been showing off to the press for the whole day. "That's the thank you I get for providing you with everything you have? For still providing for you? For giving you one chance after another, for giving you the life of luxury anyone could dream of? Instead, you throw a temper tantrum like the spoiled brat you are and embarrass me in front of the masses. Do you know what Cherry and Elias are doing now? The very same people you can't even attempt to trust? They're out there fixing your fuck up. And I know that, because they have actually worked to gain my trust." He spat out, his anger finally beginning to show on the surface, too. As messy and hot-blooded Romi was, it was painfully obvious that she got it from her father. "And you had the imagination to ever think I'd give you more?"
yuck weddings. he didn't really do them. if he did, maybe he would actually have a partner in his life. but old remy almost liked being alone and without someone to call his own. he never got the idea of love or why anyone would want to marry. it seemed sort of final to the cleaner. hell, remington can get behind getting married when you're expecting to die. because to him it's like a double ending, one being your life....well both depending on how you look at it.
but one thing was for certain, drama usually came with weddings. he didn't really plan on coming, but he figured he ought to considering he's affiliation to the family. it was the respectable thing to do. that's one thing remy easily gave, respect. and well, the for sure had a lot of it for william weiss. always had, always will. he did have a feeling there would be some drama at the wedding. just not one involving the other's own daughter. if he was completely honest, he didn't really understand what she was speaking about. if someone saw him, they probably thought he felt symphony for the woman. but it wasn't true. if anything, he didn't agree that a wedding was the best place to throw family drama, especially in front of half the city that probably showed up. of course he wouldn't say anything. he held a stoic look on his face as everyone seemed to send judging looks towards william as he returned.
remy rose his glass towards william as well. he closed the little bit of distance between them just in case they talked about something a little bit more private. "ah...i honestly don't blame her. functions like these can be a bit overwhelming. maybe that's why i rarely go out myself." he takes a drink of his champagne, grimacing as it goes down his throat. he looks around them. he slowly realizes that maybe he doesn't really know that many people because he tends to keep to himself. no one seemed to notice him. except for a few looking their way, but he believes they're only look at william and not him. remy saw the photographers. he knew they would be around. it didn't mean he had to be okay with being filmed. he stands there, trying to get out of the view of the cameras by positioning himself to be slightly covered by william.
"it actually has been a good day...sort of dramatic. but that kind of comes with the type of work we do, right? i wouldn't say its been fantastic, but it's been...interesting."
The one person he could genuinely trust not to question him over his daughter's breakdown was Remy, and William was counting on it. Granted, not many people were stupid enough to approach him over that, not on a day that was supposed to be the happiest day on his life. Still, idiots were everywhere, and even as cameras were pointed at him and at his new wife, he could also feel the eyes on him. Watching his every move, almost expecting that he would somehow give out as to what had gone down when he dragged Romi out of the ballroom.
As the other raised his glass, William took a sip of his own champagne, observing the crowds before focusing back on the man next to him. It didn't go unnoticed the way he seemed to be almost hiding behind him, away from the flashes, from the prying eyes, and it amused the Don. Not everyone was used to being in the public eye all the time, and whilst it hindered his job at times, it was also part of it. Then again, it was also the exact reason why he had people like Remy working for him.
"You should go out more. The motel can't be the only place you can be found at." William pointed out, refusing to bring up the subject of his daughter. He could count on someone overhearing that the moment he brought her up. Instead, he took another sip of his champagne, allowing himself a moment or two of supposed silence. "Perhaps not dramatic, but necessary. Some weed removal has been long overdue. Regardless of the time and place."
Alice certainly knew how to hob-knob with those in the upper crust. After all, she'd grown up in the upper echelons of society in Chicago. Of course, to be fair, even though her father was an incredibly successful defense attorney, his connections and reach were nothing compared to the don of the Weiss family so it certainly was a bit different. Still, she'd been raised with manners and she knew how to play a game or two. Part of her wanted to dig a bit deeper but she knew she needed to wait until she did that. If she started grilling him right away, he'd see right through her. And something in the back of her mind told her that he already did.
I do hope tonight will stand out for all the positives. At least, I can assure you, it will for me and my dearest wife. She nodded and smiled, though she didn't really respond to his vague request to keep his daughter's meltdown out of her article. Instead, she said "As it should. It is a very important day. And you and your bride make such a lovely couple." They really did. Did she believe they were in love? Hell no. Though, she couldn't prove it. But regardless of feelings, they looked good together. "You have a lovely home, by the way. It's quite impressive." Also true. The ballroom alone was insane, really. Sometimes, Alice forget what an extravagance of wealth could buy.
"Well, I can only say that I'm the luckiest man out there to have a woman like Cherry agree to marry me." He agreed, playing the role of a happy groom. Whilst he was the one who had first approached Cherry, he knew it wasn't exactly love; it was a feeling William had forgotten about a long time ago, around the time his first wife had spat in his face and broken his heart. But now, it was convenient, and it was a status symbol. A union like that was also beneficial for the future of the Weiss' clan, especially with certain people being removed from it.
"Thank you." He could almost see the way she was picking her words, and he knew his job wasn't over just yet. No smart journalist would back away from writing something that would grab people's attention the way his daughter's meltdown would; but no smart journalist would be so willing to cross someone like him. "There's no better place to start a new life than your own home. Besides," William added, focusing on the journalist again, rather than the crowds around them. "it isn't every day that we have the chance to open our home to the rest of the public to enjoy as well."
"Most certainly," Gemma responded. She had a certain respect for William. Though it was born out of... well, the horrifying truth between them. The chaos that rolled around in her belly whenever she was close to the Weiss patriach was so delicious, she loved being near him. There was a danger to it, a love for that danger, an eagerness to start a fire and to kill for him all in the same breath. She was never certain if she would do as he asked or hurt him for asking. She was never certain if he trusted her fully or simply kept her close because he feared what she might do next.
She feared him too, to a point. Feared what he knew, what he was capable of, the forces he controlled.
But unlike her fear of losing her siblings, this fear tasted like more.
"It is very overwhelming. The camera's, the attention, the news. I see plenty of faces I am certain were never invited, many eyes gwacking, testing, hoping. Many minds not at all wishing for your happiness. Should I hurt those who take this opportunity to bad-mouth the family?" She stared at him through her one eye. She had given the other away for him, and her lover, a former Capo for the Weiss family, as well.
"That's the whole point of an event like this. Let it be so desirable to get in, those uninvited will be clawing their way in." William pointed out, taking a sip of his champage. She was absolutely right; there were so many people in here, really not after celebrating his amazing day but rather basking in their five minutes of fame or trying to see what it was like in the Weiss' manor. It wasn't every day that William opened the manor's doors to the commoners, and whilst only certain places were permissable - with plenty of security everywhere - it was still a big deal to many.
His focus finally shifted onto Gemma at her question. There was so dedication he could read in her stance, in her face, in her eye. He could always trust her to follow through her suggestions or his requests, and at times, he knew he had to be careful. Dedication could often be followed by obsession, by something that could lead to so much worse, and with Gemma, it could be anything. Still, it was the risk he was always willing to take, especially knowing that she was still willing to do anything for him- no matter what sort of harm it caused her. "Your dedication is always appreciated. But you should enjoy the night, for now. If I didn't ave people not wishing me happiness, I wouldn't be where I am tonight." He assured her.
"Tomorrow, I might come back to you on that suggestion."
rosalind's story made them living proof that everything could change in an instant. the old rosalind was naive, liked roller blading and didn't have much else to worry about (apart from the trauma of losing her biological parents) - life was life and now it was tainted. ros would never know that feeling again - the system had punished her, shaken her but it instilled something else within her. that was the part of the reason why she didn't attempt to hide the scar that scraped down her face... it was her new beginning. rose coloured glasses off, she'd fully accepted her time in prison thinking that it would be like that for some time but a technicality had released her from that and now she found herself in las vegas.
it would have been nice to go back to how things were but looking back, she was never actually happy but suppressing such emotions... maybe working at the club was making her look at people pouring themselves out (even if embarrassing) yet lacking the childlike manner she had presented previously. the innocence seemed to evaporate. not really knowing many, the other caught rosalind mid gulp of her drink and she had to gulp fast to avoid the alternative. "oh-" quickly widening her eyes, she nodded. "a lovely couple." ros nodded again. "enjoying, yeah. i'm kind of a plus one, honestly but it's been really lovely, seeing all this... that's such a lovely commitment." and there was the old ros, still living in paradise and not all of it could be knocked out of her. "i don't mean to intrude so i can go if you want."
"Hm." William merely nodded as he took another sip of the champagne, eyes scanning the place. The people who needed to be working after his daughter's meltdown were working, and the press was already beginning to focus on that. He knew there'd still be plenty of people to silence, but a meltdown and a complete breakdown lie seemed to be working just fine. Then again, after a fit that his youngest had thrown, was it really a lie?
"By all means, stay. My home is open to everyone tonight." He assured her. It wasn't like him to be this polite, but damage had already been done, and it was his way of fixing things. If others believed that he was so unlike to what Romi had described - not that she lied much - it would only further his cause. "Try the food. I do not mean to brag, but hiring the best chefs in the state was an obvious decision. It's the least I could do for a day like this."
where: the weiss wedding
when: march 20th, 1997
who: cherry turner-weiss & open ( @boneyardstarters )
The Turner-Weiss wedding reception is in full swing and everything is going according to plan. Cherry performs the role of the overinvolved bride with ease— only the most recent of many masks worn over her fifty or so years of life. She double checks the cutlery. Triple checks the flower arrangements. She would having nothing less than extraordinary on the day of her matrimony.
Extraordinary indeed is the speech delivered by the youngest Weiss daughter. As Cherry anticipates (hopes), the beginning of her speech is saccharine and sweet upon first glance, just as she is. The fragments begin to appear, until she falls apart entirely. Cherry's expression, which gradually metamorphosizes from delight to horror, and alongside Cassandra and Elias, is the main recipient of the crowd's scrutiny.
When Cherry is met with sympathy from other guests, she assures them she's only concerned with her stepdaughter's well-being. She'd been taking her mother's absence pretty hard, and her father's decision to remarry hadn't helped her... fragile state of existence. It was especially hard to take, especially in lieu of Petra's absence from the arrangement— but Cherry remained resilient, refusing to give up on family so easily.
How easily they eat that shit up. Like hoards of human vultures, they jump at the chance to feast on the misfortune of others. Cherry took measures to ensure she'd come out as the sympathetic party when the speech debacle took center stage in some socialites' gossip exchange.
"It's a shame, really. She's been trying her best, but..." she trails off, never addressing anything in specific, but enough to plant seeds of speculation. "It's a hard position to be in." She clutches her champagne glass close to her chest, grief and concern still evident in her voice, and sighs, offering the guest beside her a consolation smile. "Still, I hope you've been enjoying the festivities otherwise?"
“I’m sure they have been. With the hard work we have put into this, I’d expect nothing else.” William had appeared out of nowhere, always watching, always observing. He had seen his new bride interact with the guests, those who had the guts to approach anything at the top of this food and power chain and knew he could expect her to do as much damage control as she could. After all, he was doing the same, and whilst his methods were slightly different, he expected them to work. No one in their right minds were going to question him, not on a day like this.
His hand moved smoothly to her waist, bringing Cherry closer to him with careful precision that seemed so unlike him. Part of it was to ensure that they were playing the happy couple for the public, part of it was because he, in a way, cared about her. He couldn’t tell if it was love – a feeling so unusual – but they worked together well, and seeing her work hard to fix his daughter’s mistake proved him right. For now, that was more than enough.
“But you’ll have to excuse me, I must steal my beautiful bride all to myself.” He offered the person Cherry had been talking to a rare smile. And whilst it didn’t reach his eyes, not many were willing to look that far, or to question him over it. “I think we are long overdue for our first dance as a married couple.”
The room is still adjusting to the outburst, that much is clear. Elias had done the best he could to smooth things over, to do damage control because apparently that's what happens when you join a family of influence. It wouldn't look very good if he was encouraging chaos, would it? Besides, he tells these strangers he could care less about flitting around the Weiss manor, it's always difficult to adjust to such a big change in the family. Even if Romi Weiss is halfway through her twenties and far too old to be acting like an uneducated brat with her toys taken away.
When he returns, the room shifts, and Elias always watches the room before he watches the man. He makes a small toast, his own attempt at smoothing things over, at conducting business as usual - because make no mistake, Elias is fully aware this union is business, it's hard to be much else when you're as influential as William Weiss is. He wonders sometimes if he's aware of the game being played under his nose, feels awful for his mother, who has to share a bed with him. Alas, until plans change, Elias' true feelings will remain hidden, and he will be the good, respectful caporegime within William's hierarchy.
He takes his seat, Romi's seat, near the Godfather as he was instructed to do with a small smile on his face, not too eager, a respectful nod. Progress. Once he's done addressing the crowd, Elias turns to him. Business, he reminds himself, he's good at business. "The night's going smoothly, considering. No other... hiccups." A tight smile, a brief pause. "If there's anything you need handled tonight…" Elias adds, almost conversationally, though there's a weight under it that isn't accidental. "I'm here."
Whilst to many, it would sound horrifying to have his child’s presence replaced by someone else during an important event like a wedding, to William, it was somewhat of a relief. There was a reason why he had ordered Elias to do so, and it wasn’t just because he was now his stepchild. Over the years, Elias had worked hard to prove himself to the Don, and whilst William had plenty of other things to focus on, he always prided himself in noticing talent. It was a requirement in his position, and even if he often dolled out punishments and brought chaos to the world, he had to give credit where credit was done. In that way, he more than considered himself to be merciful and all-forgiving.
“I know.” He responded shortly, taking a sip of his champagne as he observed the crowds. Whispers could not be avoided, but no one had to be stupid enough to do anything further to annoy him. “And it’s appreciated. For now, all we need is to remain united and keep the alcohol flowing free. The less everyone gets to gossip about anything, the quicker they will move on to a yet another idiot.”
TOO ANNOYED TO REMAIN AT THE TABLE ANY LONGER with her non-date who so conveniently forgot to inform her of a fake girlfriend he had yet to have a fake breakup with, Farah had huffed away to grab another glass of champagne and possibly a liquid a little stronger. Love was alive and in the air for seemingly everyone but the courier, though she definitely couldn't say she was having the worst night out of all attendees after watching one of daughters make a fool of herself. Been there, done that, was unfortunately her first thought as she was all too familiar with unintentionally playing the role of jester, though she was thankful not to have the bells chiming around her own head for once. Or maybe she still was, as she had somehow been oblivious enough to miss the aforementioned fact that was affecting her own love life. Approaching the don was not an intelligent idea on her part, as she was inevitable to stick her foot in her mouth at least thrice in every conversation she partook in, though, it seemed rude to be attending the wedding and never having actually had a conversation with the big man himself, too lowly of a position to ever earned such previously. "Well, y'know, don't they always say the reception passes by in the blink of an eye for the bride and groom because it's just constant gogogo with greeting everyone and toasts and dancing and cake? Not that I would know." At this rate, she never was going to know. "Oh, definitely. Whoever you got to cater this thing did a fantastic job because the food is great. I mean, you get food good enough and no one will even remember anything else like weird speeches." A mention that was entirely unnecessary to make and yet her words flew past the broken filter on her mouth before she could think on it.
William barely raised his brows as the young girl spoke to him, almost ranting, yet after the showdown with his own daughter, he couldn’t even bring himself to be annoyed. He was done for the night, and whilst it still needed saving and so much firefighting, him mingling with the commoners always worked in his favour. In a way, it made him almost approachable, even if any other day that would simply not work. Perhaps this way, he could shoot two birds at once.
“Now that you mention it, it has gone by in a blink of an eye.” He agreed, taking a sip of his champagne. It felt like just moments ago that he was getting ready for the ceremony, but then again, that was just another day for William. Nothing stood out much these days, his own second wedding included. What did stand out to him was the girl’s mention of the speech, and he focused back on her, eyes unreadable, yet the message painfully clear. No one was to say a word of his child’s failure. “I can only offer the best of the best for my bride. Anything but that would be in poor taste, unnecessary questions or quips included.”
When Alice had opened her mouth, she hadn't realized how close the godfather was. While she could feel the flush of her cheeks, she kept a polite smile on her face, eager to play her role well in this conversation. Besides, she hadn't actually thought she'd be awarded facetime with William Peter Weiss himself. She had to make a good impression if she was going to be allowed to continue to cover the wedding--yet at the same time, she also knew that to some degree, he needed her approval as well. Did he actually care about what some reporter thought about him and his family? No, probably not. But in some instances, the phrase 'any press is good press' didn't always apply. In this instance, it would be very helpful to the crime family if they got good press, even with the youngest daughter's apparent meltdown. And while the brunette silently wondered where she'd been ushered off to, she knew it wasn't her business (naturally, she had to fight her natural nosiness but now was not the time to stray, not when she could talk to Mr. Weiss himself).
And I'd assume the guests, so cordially invited, can appreciate how lucky they are. She hadn't missed his reminder and it reminded her of Romi's speech--the Don wanted those around him to be grateful for what he'd given them. Nodding her head, she smiled and said "Of course, Mr. Weiss. Thank you so much for allowing the Las Vegas Sun to be here today. And all I meant was that I don't usually cover events like this." As she spoke, she took a moment to really take him in. He had a dark, yet refined presence. "I cover crime for the Sun so I'm not used to such elegance when on the job," she chuckled. Sticking her hand out for a handshake, she said "Alice Pallas. It's nice to meet you, Mr. Weiss. And congratulations to you and your wife."
It wasn’t all that obvious, but seeing the smallest hint of blush on the woman’s cheeks was somewhat satisfying. He knew she had to be relishing in his embarrassment, in a yet another public display of family dysfunction for the Weisses. All he could hope for was that it was the last time it would happen, and with the way he handled his youngest daughter, he could only but hope that it would stick for good this time. Her services, poor attempts at achieving her goals were over, and her time had run out. Not that he would ever reveal that to a journalist, but right now, he still needed to be in her good graces. As if she could ever write a single bad word about him.
“The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Pallas.” He took up her offer, shaking her hand ever-so-elegantly, his grip firm albeit not yet threatening. He knew he could still get her to forget the events that had transpired, or at least to gloss over them once the article was bound to come out. And whilst he could get his people to do the job, it was good for him to step up, too. “I do hope tonight will stand out for all the positives. At least, I can assure you, it will for me and my dearest wife.” He finally smiled, although it was rare that the smile would reach his eyes.
As soon as her father grabbed her by the arm and dragged her away, she knew it was over. She could tell just by his grip that he was angry and she really couldn't blame him. She supposed that if she was going to go out, she might as well go down in flames, right? As he pulled her along to a more private location, she didn't bother resisting. Instead, she walked with him in silence, though maybe she should've made more of a fuss. After all, wasn't it her goal to embarrass him? Why stop now?
Once they were somewhere deep in the Weiss Manor, somewhere where no one could hear any screaming, he shut the door and just looked at her. "What?" she snapped at him, almost wanting to provoke him. All of her life, she'd been scared of her father. And she still was. But the growing resentment that she had for him was starting to overpower that fear, the fear that maybe Sev and the others had been right all along. He was never going to promote her. Her father had simply used her devotion and drive to his advantage, always willing to take but never willing to give her what she wanted. And what she wanted more than anything was to be his underboss. But even if she'd stood up there and smiled and talked about how great of a father was, it wouldn't have made one damn difference. He probably would've patted her on the head and then gone on about his business.
"Not happy with my speech? Was it too honest for you?" If he was going to get rid of her, then he might as well do it right here and now. Quite frankly, she had nothing left to give of herself. She knew that she'd been making the wrong choices lately. Going to that shady motel and getting high with Lexie, dodging everyone that she knew, putting in a half-assed effort at work. It all left her feeling numb. As soon as her high wore off, all her old problems always came back tenfold. And she thought back to her conversation with Cyrek in January, when she'd still been struggling to cling to her sobriety. He'd told her that being sober wasn't working because she was still unhappy. He'd asked her what she cared about and what she actually wanted to do with her life. And that's when it had all sunk in, when she'd realized that she'd been chasing this dream of underboss not for herself, and not even for her father, but for her father's approval. And she was finally starting to understand that she may never get it, no matter if she were shiny and sober or fucked up and messy. It didn't seem to matter either way.
William considered himself to be a smart man, if not an exceptionally smart one; it took guts, brains and so much more to achieve what he did, and it took even more to maintain it. And yet, clearly, he had stumbled ridiculously and impressively when he had asked his daughter to make a speech at his own wedding. In a way, it was absolutely a test for her, a proof of her commitment and loyalty to him and the cause, and whilst he expected somewhat of a disappointment, this wasn’t it. Instead of applause and looks of approval and admiration, he was now left having to handle a brat and a situation that had escalated way too quickly.
On his own wedding day, nevertheless.
William kept his face as hard and cold as a stone as he dragged his daughter to a room further away from the prying eyes and curious ears, not willing to make this more of a spectacle than she had already made it out to be. Luckily – in a way – at least she wasn’t kicking and screaming, although nothing would have surprised him at this point. So, when they were finally by themselves, William let go of her, remaining silent as she snapped at him again and again. He wanted to do the same, tell her how stupid her antics were, how much she had embarrassed him, how unworthy she was.
Of course this was a game to her, nothing more. Of course she had no idea the damage she’s done. Had he been too soft on her? Too willing to do whatever she pleased, whatever all his daughters wished? Money was never an issue, and yet, no one seemed thankful for everything he brought them. As if all of it was expected.
“Was it really what you were planning to say in front of all of those people? All you could manage after being given such a simple task?” He needed a confirmation, in a way. Not that William expected much else, but if his daughter was going to fail him in such a way, he needed it to be perfectly and painfully clear.
A wedding that almost every socialite in the city would be at? Of course, Alessandro wormed his way into getting to go. Forget the fact that he was a Vitelli and this was a Weiss wedding. Besides, no party that he was not at was worth mentioning. In true Alessandro fashion, he attedned the wedding in a white suit, a baby blue shirt, and tie. Was that bad luck? Oh well. When Remi had that oh so beauitful meltdown, he couldn't help but hide the wide grin on his face behind his drinking class. So much for being the only fucked up kid in Sin City, for once it wouldn't be him in all the photos having a crash out.
Somehow, as the night progressed, he ended up somewhat near William Weiss himself, and dear lord, it was taking everything in him not to laugh at the older man. "Oh, I can imagine, I mean, I've never been a bride on a wedding day, but I know what it's like being the center of attention at an event like this." He grinned and then shrugged, drinking the water in his hand when he was asked if he was enjoying himself.
"Me? I've been having a ball. This has been my first real social event in a while, you know, mourning periods and all that jazz. It's nice to see so many smiling faces. I imagine you must be having a wonderful day, yourself."
The last thing anyone would have been expecting in a Weiss party was a Vitelli. Families at odds, to put it lightly, coming together for a wedding? Almost impossible. At yet, it was exactly what William had been expecting, so to find a yet another Vitelli brat here was only but a matter of time. Even whilst the other clearly attempted to stand out in a white suit – all he could do was pity the kid. Was this really all that could be done? After his own daughter’s meltdown, it barely phased the man.
“Really? I’m surprised any of the Vitelli’s even remember what it’s like to be in the spotlight. No matter how imbecilic their attempts might be.” He took a sip of his champagne, scanning the crowd, always observing, always on the lookout. But no one was willing to do anything that would displease him, not after what went down; it would be a stupid move to put it lightly.
“Of course. How horrible it must’ve been.” There was no compassion in his tone, and he knew the other couldn’t have expected it. “I couldn’t be happier.” It was all he was willing to let on, and if the young Vitelli in front of him was at least somewhat smart, he would know that this is where the topic would meet its end.
