dust & bones.

Kat had been sitting in the floor playing with Rory when she heard the knock on the door. Answering her door had become scary as hell now that she had Elsie, Philip, and Daniel there. She expected it to be Charles but she still barely opened the door as she answered it. That definitely wasn’t Charles standing there. He was in the background but still, she had no idea who this was and that scared her a bit. “How can I help you?” she said preparing for anything because with Rory and the other’s in the house she had no intentions of letting just anyone in. // @alexandervbarrett

Alexander had found out through Charles just where his Reaper and grunts had gone off to. Truth be told, the Bronx Prince had been prepared to blame Lincoln for Elsie’s disappearance after the catastrophic end to the Golightly birthday gala, but when he’d heard from his adviser that they were holed up in some whore’s house, healing from injuries they’d incurred at the party? Well--hell hath no fury like a mob boss left out of the fucking loop.

He’d approached the door of the woman he was told was housing some of his family members, and while Alex was--perhaps--most eager to see how Kane’s injuries had manifested themselves, he needed to know what the fuck was going on. So when an unfamiliar dark-haired woman answered the front door, he frowned slightly, blinking as he sized up the stranger while she opened the door a crack for him.

“Who are you?” he demanded, straightening his shoulders and glancing down at the woman. “Word has it you have something of mine.” He pushed the door open and stepped inside, turning to face the strange woman with an impassive expression.

“I’d like it back.”

He had to keep telling himself that this was real; that she was real. Tatiana, his sweet summer flower; his little Russian doll. He had spent restless nights and agonizing days mourning over the loss of her since the Russians had come and stolen her away from him again; he had nightmares about the day she had been taken from him, just when they were beginning to settle into their new life together. Perhaps Alex’s intentions of holding her for ransom initially had gone to the wayside, but they had developed something in the time they’d spent together. The thought of anyone soiling or ruining that for him had filled Alex with such volatile anger and fear that he had hardly been able to contain himself. He loved her--to the very depths of his soul. Why should anybody else be allowed to interfere with that? Why should anyone else be allowed to tell him that he couldn’t have the one thing his heart had sought after in the lonely months since her disappearance?

Even if they couldn’t be together again--not yet, not with the way this party was surrounded--they could at least have the night. He could give her that much.

She was beautiful, and somehow even better than he had remembered her; smooth and hairless, glistening and pink between her thighs and on the rosy peaks of her breasts. She was a work of art, and Alex was determined to spend every ounce of energy he had left in him pleasuring and devouring her. She wriggled and squirmed almost helplessly on the bed, clearly desperate for him to fill her up with his thick and throbbing cock. Alex smacked her ass once more, willing her to be patient as he watched--hungrily--at the way her ass jiggled and shook under the contact of his hand. His nostrils flared, a low growl escaping his lips as he watched the way her body jostled under his touch. And then she was whining that she was his little rope bunny, and God, could he have asked for a more perfect submissive?

He wanted to fucking devour her.

“You remember how to ask for daddy’s cock, don’t you?” he murmured when she asked to be fucked; a riotous shiver of pleasure ricocheted down his spine, lighting his insides on fire as he wrapped a hand around her petite waist and dragged her lower half towards him. She had parted her creamy thighs, revealing her sopping wet heat that lay just between her thighs, and almost in direct response, Alex felt his cock throb and twitch with want. He guided his cock between her thighs, dragging the head of his dick, weeping with pre-cum, up and down her sticky slit, relishing in the way she quivered and fluttered beneath his touch. He was like a man starved; dying of thirst, a man who had been deprived of water for far too long. So with her hands tied behind her back and his arm supporting her petite waist, Alex shifted and impaled himself inside of her to the hilt.

She was just as tight, wet, and hot as he had remembered her, and it was evident by the way her name tore from the back of his throat like a curse; like a prayer; like a blessing.

“Tatiana,” he managed, and her name was broken as it fell from his lips. His grip tightened on her waist as he began to buck into her, his cock sliding easily in and out of her tight, sopping wet entrance, and soon all Alex was able to hear was the sound of their labored breathing mixed with the sensation of skin slapping against skin and the wet, sticky, wholesome sound of his cock sliding in and out of her slick cunt. She was a dream; absolute heaven to be inside of. He grabbed her ass cheek in one hand, squeezing, clawing, and smacking at it as he rode her from behind like a man possessed. Too long; he had been deprived of her cunt for too fucking long. As his hips smacked against her pert ass with each powerful thrust, Alex dipped his head and dragged his lips across her cheek and to her ear, biting on her soft earlobe before he moaned against her--

“I love you. I love you, you beautiful, tight little bitch. I love everything about you, from your wet little cunt to your--” he grabbed her ass once more, shaking it slightly as he pounded into her tight little entrance. “--fat, sweet ass to your--” He removed his hand from her ass and slid up underneath the press of her body against the mattress, reaching for one of her small, tender breasts and kneading it gently in his hand. “--soft, perky little rosebud breasts, all the way to your--” His hand abandoned her breast then, sliding up further until he was cradling her jaw in his powerful grip, and then he slid two fingers past her lips and into her mouth as he finished with-- “--sweet little mouth, one of my favorite little holes to use.” He slid his fingers out of her mouth, angling her face to the side as he asked her--

·  ·  ·   elsie checked the doorway before moving further onto the balcony. she took in the scenery before setting her eyes on barrett. they were alone, that much she was sure of. she noticed his phone in his hand but couldn’t really bring herself to care on the matter. his business was his unless he willingly shared it or brought it to her attention. she wasn’t deaf on the matter of the gossip spreading amongst the irish, she just chose to not entertain it. 

giving him a simple nod, elsie waited for this idea he had blossoming in his head.

"Word has it a lot of the NYPD are out tonight in full force,” Alex answered simply, glancing past where Elsie stood to the lit-up interior of the Garden Hotel. Silhouettes moved past the curtains, and Alex narrowed his eyes slightly, trying to discern if he noticed anyone among the crowd. 

“Most particularly, some of the detectives are out in full force tonight; I’ve heard the Organized Crime Unit’s biggest pains in the asses, Cordova and Bennet, even arrived for the occasion,” Alex explained, settling his gaze on Elsie again. “See what you can find out about their movements; see if they know something we don’t.”

Daniel shrugged, “I’m not normally a kiss ass like this, but I’m serious. I don’t know if I’m ever going to get Elsie back, I don’t really care if I do right now because it’s about what she wants. I just wanna be near her.” He laughed, “I missed seeing her smile and laugh, now I don’t get that, but maybe someday.” He shrugged again before nodding, “thank you. I’m not much but I’ll do whatever needs to be done. Even where monkey suits for the rest of my life.” He smirked.

"Ah, give her some time, I’m sure she’ll come around eventually,” Alex said with a wave of his hand. People like Daniel and Elsie--it was really only a matter of time before some force of nature drove them together again. They were like magnets, constantly attracted to each other. “But if anything happens to that girl, your head would make a fine spot on my mantle, Lincoln. Take care to remember that.”

“I wouldn’t call this a monkey suit,” he said with a snort, touching the sleeve of Daniel’s suit. “Seems a bit dramatic, if you ask me.”

Nathan noticed the defensive stance that the other man got into and sighed. This party really was shit. Not only was he stuck with his own crew trying to figure out ways to bring him down, but he also had all of the other mafia’s trying to as well. He needed to start finding trust worthy people so he could stay at home for these things.  

“Relax Barrett, If I wanted to kill you, you would be dead already.” He wasn’t about to get into a fist fight with the head of the Irish mafia. Although they were both probably carrying some kind of weapon. He doubted the balcony of the Garden Hotel was a good place to get into a fire fight, especially with a lot of New York’s police force in the ballroom.  Nathan’s body guard looked out to make sure he was okay after hearing Alex’s voice, and he nodded in response. 

“It’s just too damn loud in there. Plus the idiots I bought with me would not leave me alone.” He continued to look out over the city not giving into Alex’s defensive stance. It would only take him two moves to send the other man down to the city street below. “Why are you out here? You hiding out from the Russians? I heard Valentina had a hit out on you.” 

"Charming to think you could kill me, Luter,” Alex commented with an arch of his brow. Nathan might have been called The Bear by many, but New York was Alex’s home. He was the Bronx fucking Prince, and he wouldn’t be intimidated by another man coming in and trying to claim territory for himself. No matter how heavily he was packing or what he brought to the table. Professionally, Alex’s loyalties were to himself--the Chinese Triad could be included in alongside that as well, he supposed, but he had always looked after his own first.

Nathan Luter complicated those matters.

“Maybe you should find people more worth your time, then,” Alex said at last, leaning back against the railing and appraising Nathan with a new level of scrutiny. He slid his phone into his pocket, drawing a cigar out from the inside of his breast pocket and searching for the heavy silver oblong shape of his lighter. He fished it from his pocket, flicked the lid open, and lit his cigar, taking a puff before gesturing with the hand that held the cigar. “A leader is only as good as his disciples, after all.”

“Valentina can find me if he wants,” Alex answered honestly, a cloud of smoke billowing out around him as he spoke. “We have unfinished business anyway. That being said, he’s too pussy to come face me on his own; always has to hide behind his little busy Soviet bees.”

Tatiana would have gone absolutely anywhere with Alex right now. Home, back to the Bronx and away from the makeshift prison she had been trapped in by the Bratva, halfway across the world and to another continent - he could have said jump, and in her broken English, Tatiana would have replied, ‘how much high?’, because that was how desperately she wanted him to whisk her away with him for the night. She knew, though, that they didn’t have long - Bunny Golightly’s birthday gala was swarming with a volatile mixture of NYPD and mafia members, and that included both of her older brothers, as well as her aunt and uncle who would have been livid to find out that she had snuck out of the compound despite their very strict orders for her to stay home and stay put. She was determined, though, to make the most of what very little time they had with one another, and so when Alex took hold of one of her tiny hands with his much larger one and told her to follow after him, Tatiana didn’t hesitate at all before nodding her head eagerly in agreement. She waved a forlong goodbye at the baby goat that she had been playing with, and when it bleated at her in response, she came incredibly close to asking Alex if they could bring it with them; the only reason she didn’t was due to the fact that she knew that what they were about to do wasn’t at all suitable for young and impressionable goat babies. 

She needn’t have worried about just how, exactly, her big man planned on procuring a room for them. He mussed his hair and yanked on his tie - all the while making Tatiana want to kiss him for how adorably disheveled he then looked - and he brought them both over to the front desk before putting on the performance of a lifetime, leaving the young tsarina as wide-eyed and surprised as the receptionist as he convinced them both that Howard Golightly really was being mauled by barnyard animals. “Wow,” she exclaimed beneath her breath in shock, blinking up at Alex with her startled doe-eyes as the front desk’s contents were left entirely at their mercy, and she let out a scandalized little squeak when Alexander wasted no time in rifling through them. O - oh! This was so exciting! She clapped her small hands together delightedly when Alex managed to find a key that would work for them, stumbling excitedly over her feet as he dragged her down the nearest corridor once more. They were so close to being alone with one another - so close to having privacy - and her heartbeat was racing hummingbird-fast because of it. She needed him.

“E - eeeeep!” she couldn’t help but squeak when her big man pulled out his gun, her owlish blue eyes widening even further as she drank in the sight of the revolver he was now brandishing, but she thanked all of the mini muffin gods and deities in existence that he didn’t need to use it. No…mercifully, the room he had claimed for the two of them was left unguarded, and Tatiana trembled helplessly with anticipation as he finally brought them inside of it. He put away his gun - shiny, scary thing that it was to the young princess - and made sure that the door was securely locked and guarded before making his way towards her once more, and it was then that Tatiana was fully able to look at him in all of his darkly handsome glory. The lights in the opulent hotel suite were soft and romantic, but she could see him far more clearly than she had been able to outside in the garden, and with his tousled hair and his tie askew, Tatiana had never been more in love with him than she was right now. He came back towards her, and the hardened, calculating expression that had been on his face outside in the hallway softened almost instantly, and Tatiana melted as he took hold of her babydoll face in his strong, weathered hands, her much tinier ones coming up to clutch shakily at his broad shoulders as he knelt to kiss her again.

“Shura,” her favored pet name for him tumbled past her lips in a relieved and shaky little sigh, and she whimpered as he nipped at the pouty swell of her bottom lip, eagerly opening her mouth to grant him all the access that he needed. His tongue, hot and seeking and always in control of her, was almost too big for her little baby mouth; she let out another small mew as she kept her lips parted to accommodate the length of it. With her small frame pressed snugly up against his, Alex staggered back towards the luxurious plush bed in the middle of the room, and Tatiana went right along with him, feverishly shoving his suit jacket down and off of his shoulders in the process. “Tatia better than ever, big man, practically being in heaven,” she promised him breathlessly,  tilting her head back and squeezing her eyes shut as he began to kiss all the way down the exposed and vulnerable length of her delicate neck. He went down to the bare curve of her shoulder, too, and even though she knew that she should have pleaded with him not to leave bite marks or bruises, all she could think of was having him lay claim to her the way that he had done so many times in the past. “Please - Shura, please - !” 

She pulled away from him just barely, and only so that she could frantically reach for the gossamer skirt of her ballgown, tugging at it helplessly in an attempt to take it off before looking up at him helplessly for his assistance. “I wearing this for you, honey bear, but right now, I just wanting it gone,” she whimpered frefully; it had taken her, Anya, and Emmaline to get it on her in the first place, and even underneath it she was wearing a strapless corset. She was burning up all over with rosy heat, and if she wasn’t able to feel her bare skin pressed against Alex’s and soon, she was certain that she would break down entirely. “Off - take off, popochka, please.”

The rest of the world faded away around them; it was just Alexander and Tatiana. They could have been two stars, spinning in orbit around the moon, dancing along the cosmos towards each other. The sight of her in that dress, soft pink and glittering with each movement of her hips, had been enough to nearly send him to his knees. It reminded him of evenings they’d spent draped in finery after expensive dinners or time spent with his most trusted colleagues. Her in a small pink dress, kitten heels dangling from her dainty feet as he set her on top of his kitchen counter and pressed himself inside of her; nights when he had tediously undone every single bow, lacing, ribbon, and adornment of whatever dress she wore in favor of feeling her bare skin slide against his own.

He let her tug his jacket off, slinging the piece of clothing over a chair positioned in the corner of the room as their lips assaulted each other; feverish, frantic, desperate. Is this how it felt to be a man begging for water? A man deprived of half his senses at any given moment? Tatiana knew that he loved her--that was what mattered; that was what he intended to show her in the small amount of time they had to spend with each other this evening.

Alex was going to fuck her, until the very imprint of her being bore marks of him.

“Unless it has your name on it, I don’t care,” her voice was equally uncaring as her words. She’d gotten the text sometime between her second and third glass of wine, and now she had to stop going for a fourth so she could do some work. Whatever. A body came in - and one of her medical examiner friends needed help identifying the Cause of Death. And she shot off immediately to the first balcony she saw, to get better reception as she scrolled through the photos her friend had sent her. 

“I’m sure you don’t need to do whatever you’re doing right there, there are plenty of other places for you to do it that isn’t here’.” Her eyes are glued to her rather… large phone in her hands - it was one of those phones that could be considered a teeny tiny tablet rather than a phone, but Rowan used it for work  and she didn’t give a shit what other people had to say about her stupidly large phone.

“I’m working. It’s important.”

Usually. Now on her stupidly large phone were disgusting images of a male body laid out on a medical examiners table, the y-autopsy cut clear as the skin was peeled back to reveal the insides. Rowan huffed and swiped - close up of a stab wound - and swiped - close up of the victim’s bruised and cut throat. She grinned. “Gross,” she muttered, shaking her head as she zoomed onto the picture. She leaded against the balcony, studying the photo before she swiped again to find the medical notes to start reading.

"It has my name on it if I fucking want it to,” Alex answered by way of hello, glancing up at the younger, dark-haired woman who made her presence known on the baclony. He supposed it was the entitlement that came with the names on the guest list tonight that had them hesitant to follow his orders; of cours,e Alex knew if half the people attending this party knew just who was prowling about the edges of the event, they’d mind their tongues a little more closely. Who was this woman, after all, to talk to him this way?

“Working, is that what we’re calling it?” he sneered, watching as she scrolled through her phone. She certainly didn’t look as though she was working, dressed in fine clothes with the tinkling background noises of champagne glasses clinking and the chatter of wealthy people discussing their vacation homes and pensions. To be brushed off so casually, and by someone who carried around a phone the size of a fucking iPad nonetheless? It simply wouldn’t do.

That is, of course, until he stepped closer and peered over the woman’s shoulder, noticing the pictures of a corpse she was perusing through. Mortician, coroner, or someone else?

“You know, I wouldn’t consider necrophilia porn work, exactly,” he commented smoothly, stepping back and appraising her with new interest.

Javier was too caught up by the glamour of the party that he needed some break from all of the people’s fuss. He quickly paved his way towards the balcony, thinking he all he needed was a smoke before he goes back sitting idly beside the Capo and the Highflier. They were the front faces of the Cartel, but Javier knew deep down that most of the grunt work happens with him. The Cartel wasn’t half of its glory without the work he does. Opening the balcony doors, he saw a man who had seemed to have been there first. He urges him to leave, but Javier scans the room and it clearly had enough space for even ten more people in it. “Are you smoking?” He asked the other manscanning him from head to toe, as if justifying that if he wasn’t using the balcony for its designated use then he had more rights to it. His instincts tell him that the other man had an aura, much like the Capo himself. “I guess not.” He raised his eyebrows and shrugged, noticing that he wasn’t there to smoke and Javier in fact, needed it. He took a box of cigarette from his coat and lit the end of a stick. He took a drag out of it, staring at the city lights in contrast with the dark sky. 

"Obviously not; don’t see a cigarette or cigar in sight, do you?” Alex challenged, glancing at the intruder from underneath his lashes. He couldn’t seem to place the face before him, but it was difficult to determine if this was a guest, a disguised cop, or perhaps another member of a warring mafia like himself. Still, Alex didn’t take kindly to strangers crowding his space, even if the balcony wasn’t private property. As long as he was standing out here, enjoying the view and fresh air as he tried to recoup and gather his thoughts, it might as well have been. His gaze traveled to the man’s coat, where he removed a box of cigarettes and removed one from the pack, lighting it and--for all the care in the world--paying Alex not one inch of regard.

Alex decided then and there a bullet would look rather nice lodged between this guy’s eyes.

“Admiring the view, twinkle toes?” he asked, sliding his phone into his pocket and appraising the stranger before him. “Perhaps I wasn’t clear enough. You’ve been excused.”

games and fun aside, olyvar wanted to be in on every plan that was happening tonight. whilst he wasn’t entirely loyal to the irish mafia, he felt a sense of comfort with them. he felt he should be. it may entirely have to do with the leader himself, there was something about him that just told olyvar to keep an eye on him. to follow him, almost like a lost dog until he takes him on. but there was other offers too, other leaders who’d caught glimpse of how good of a spy oly could be. at this point, he didn’t know where his own allegiance stood. 

once his gaze caught the man standing up and heading for a balcony, olyvar practically took it upon himself to follow him out regardless of whether he was wanted or not. they weren’t friends, obviously.. but that didn’t diminish the respect olyvar’s eyes showed for the other. he took a deep breath as he ignored the other’s request–rather, his remark, ‘actually sir, i just wondered if i could be of any help tonight… i won’t stick around long but i do feel a bit like a sitting duck. could i do anything for you?’

It didn’t matter who was standing at the entrance to the balcony--it could have been Viktor Valentina, it could have been Raymond, it could have been the Queen of fucking England for all Alex cared in that moment. His mood was souring every moment no one yielded results regarding the whereabouts of the diamonds, made only worse by the presence of Russians he’d noticed at this event. So, after typing out a quick message to someone among his ranks to meet him outside as soon as possible, he glanced up and caught a semi-familiar face gazing at him, rather hesitantly.

Olyvar Peters. Socialite. Loner. Potentially a good asset to have on his team.

“That depends,” Alex mused, more interested to hear the young man’s response than anything else. “What are you offering to me?” He paused, mulling the thought over before he added-- “Contacts would be a good place to start. You know that girl in there personally?” Alex gestured with a thumb towards the ballroom, indicating Bunny Golightly and her out-of-touch father.

Nathan hated this. Parties were his idea of torture. He had only hosted a few in the past and they were much smaller then this one. He only came because he heard that the diamonds might be here and he couldn’t give up the chance to see them. Plus it was a good way to find out what every mob was up too. However he was over being sociable and watching some spoiled child trotting around the room like a show dog. He left the table, motioning one for one of his security guards to follow behind him. He didn’t trust anyone here and insisted that he had at least two guards join them as guests at the party. He made his way to one of the balconies, it looked to be the quietest place at the party. He hadn’t seen anyone head towards it. He ordered his guard to stand by the door as he went on to the balcony alone. He rolled his eyes when Alexander Barrett told him the balcony was occupied. “Too bad, I didn’t see a sign telling me it was closed.” Nathan let the door close behind him and went over to lean on the railing. Taking in a deep breath, savoring the sounds of the city that almost drowned out the music from the party. “I have every right to stand out here and sulk as you do.”

A quick text to Raymond and Alex would be on his way; or, at the very least, he would tune in to the party around him once more. He hadn’t seen much of his Underboss since the Irish had arrived to the Golightly gala some hours before, and Alex was rife with tension over the mob presence at tonight’s event. Starry-eyed, goofy Golightly likely had no idea that half of the criminal underworld of New York City had asserted dominance over his daughter’s birthday party, but Alex found himself coming across a crooked face or easily recognizable opponent nearly every time he turned a fucking corner.

So when he looked up and saw Nathan Luter taking up space before him on the balcony, his eyes merely narrowed slightly in a challenge. Alone with The Bear--that’s what they called him, wasn’t it? Vicious, cutthroat, willing to do whatever it took to claw his way to the top. If he didn’t work for a warring mob, Alex might have had it in him to respect the man.

Might have.

“Seems I forgot to put the sign up,” Alex commented, acid dripping from his tongue as he shifted his posture into a defensive stance. “What have you come out to sulk about, then? Trouble keeping your little ass-kissing bitches in line in there?”

You’re not allowed to cry. 

Five years ago, her bottom lip would have quivered at such a tone and the corners of eyes would have prickled, itchy and hot. They didn’t now, when Mr. Barrett was so quick to dismiss her, but Juliet found herself at the beginnings of such emotion and it stirred somewhere in her belly. 

You’re not allowed to cry. She told herself in these moments. 

This wasn’t really her scene. The book now tucked underneath her arm was evidence of that. The petting zoo was nice and all, and Juliet certainly appreciated the money being donated to charity, but the crowds - she didn’t handle those well. Still, she persisted. Mr. Barrett had made it rather clear that he wanted recon, those diamonds were supposedly here after all, and so Juliet would follow like a lamb. Recon and searching, that wasn’t so bad was it? The blood-spilling and the hurting and the fisticuffs, she stayed away from such things. She was the kind of woman who could drain a bank account faster than most men could throw a punch as long as you gave her a laptop and a steady wifi connection and so that’s usually how the novice book-keeper made herself useful around such parts. Hard, to bring a laptop to a birthday party, but Juliet was more than useful with just a phone. She found that very few people gave a second glance to a small, quiet girl with a book and a cellphone.  

Oh, and ‘Homegoing’, by the way. She was reading ‘Homegoing’ by Yaa Gyasi and it was quite good. 

Now she stood on a balcony, having slipped out behind Alexander because he’d mentioned wanting to talk. And though tears didn’t threaten, his tone made her shrink. Her thoughts were like butterflies, you had to catch each one separately, put them gently where you wanted them, or they might die before they ever escaped her lips.

“I know you said you wanted to talk. I, um,” She cleared her throat. Louder, she told herself, she was speaking much too softly. The balcony, though private, only did so much to drown out the sound of the festivities. “Thought this might be a good time? I can come back later if you want.” 

Alex hadn’t bothered to pay much attention to who had come out to join him on the balcony. For all he knew, it could have been Bunny fucking Golightly herself, whisking around like a princess out of some fairy tale as she lavished in the ridiculously expensive birthday party her rich ass father had thrown for her. And truth be told, he wasn’t in the mood to care. He was frustrated, nearly to the point where he felt his emotions threatening to overflow; frustrated with the lack of progress they’d made on the diamonds thus far into the evening, frustrated that his meeting with Valentina had been little more than a prance of sorts, and frustrated that he still wasn’t any closer to his endgame goal: seizing Brooklyn from Russian occupation and dethroning Viktor Valentina.

When a soft, almost timid voice permeated the air around them, Alex glanced up from where he’d been shooting a quick text to Raymond (where in the world was he, anyway?) in favor of settling his gaze on a dark-haired young woman who seemed, well, entirely out of sorts out here. Juliet Mancini was an interesting individual--not the typical mold mobsters were made of, but then again, an intelligent hacker pursuing the role of a bookkeeper in his ranks didn’t have to worry much about direct violence, now did she? He glanced at the young woman’s uncertain posture as she stood before him, his gaze dragging down to the book she cradled underneath her arm; as though she were protecting it. As though it were a small child. Everything about her screamed soft, from the way she looked at him--doe-eyed as a deer--to the way she stood and the inflection in her tone.

“Talk,” he repeated, locking his phone and sliding it back into his pocket. Alex folded his arms across his chest, shrugging and gesturing for her to step further out onto the balcony. “No time like the present, I suppose. So tell me, Mancini--” he pushed away from the balcony and unfolded his arms, taking a purposeful stride towards her. “What do you see yourself getting out of this relationship?” A basic question, but one he liked to ask everyone--particularly those with insight, intelligence, and ambition. It was easy to weed out the leaders and innovators from the lackluster followers.

@alexandervbarrett

Ray’s jaw was throbbing painfully. Almost panicked, a hard thud, thud, thud, against his ribcage in time with his racing heart. After the events of the night – a whirl wind of women and punches and blood – he was surprised that this was the thing that he’d honed in on. But, it wasn’t as if Raymond had ever needed to prove his loyalty to Alexander Barrett. He was his boss, his friend, his brother. As much as he loved Sophia, and the guilt that ate away at him for what he’d gotten Avery into, he needed to see Alex. He needed to see him now.

The underboss pink velvet suit was in disarray, and several party goers audible gasped as he streaked past them in heavy movements. There was blood on his clothing – his shirt, his knuckles. For people who knew him, it wasn’t anything new. But for the guests, it was a shock to see such a man so dead set on his path and obviously rising from… something. There wasn’t time to think about it. Where the fuck was he?

“Barrett!” He barked, his eyes almost wild as he grabbed his boss by the shoulder and practically yanked him into a secluded corner before he could step back into the dancing, the drinking. Raymond wasn’t quite sure how he’d managed to hear her name, but he had. He knew the name as clear as day – had even come to love her like family, despite originally thinking her no more than a gambling chip to make a pretty penny off of. Even after, she’d just been a piece of ass on the dance floor – until he’d seen his brother look at her. Really, truly, look at her – as if that single woman made his world spin. From that moment, he’d sworn he’d protect her. For the sake of his brother, if not for his own selfish pleasure in being able to see Alexander Barrett in love. And she’d been taken from them – the tiny woman who would’ve without a doubt been in their lives forever. Who had become Alex’s purpose in the fucked up world they were apart of, and who’s absence had broken him in ways Raymond Holloway never wanted to see again. 

Raymond released his grip on his shoulder, his sharpening in a way that was very rare. Gone was the man who wanted nothing more than to drink and fuck. In his place? The man who countless people across the world had come to fear. A serious Raymond was not a Raymond to be trifled with. “She’s here.” But Alex didn’t seem surprised – almost distracted. Ray took hold of his shoulders again, giving him a good, hard, shake. “Alexander. Did you hear me? She’s here – Tatiana. Heard some Russians talking. She got out of the compound. She’s here.”

Saying goodbye was always the hardest part; it wasn’t an eternal thing, parting with Tatiana, but it was sticky and difficult and full of such blinding sorrow and remorse that Alex felt nearly sick to his stomach. He made his way through the ballroom, after escorting Tatiana to safety and murmuring future plans to her, sending Declan along to make sure the Russian princess got home safely. He was a lion on the prowl, ready to burst from the cage that had been confining him all evening. They still didn’t have an inkling of where the diamonds were being kept, but Alex planned to fucking change that.

He collided into his Underboss nearly the same moment Raymond came barreling into him, wide-eyed and clearly distressed as he tugged Alex out of the limelight and towards the shadows of the part. The overwhelming scent of rust flooded his nostrils, as familiar as his laundry detergent or favorite cologne: blood. He blinked, stepping back to take sight of his Underboss; bruised and bloody, smears and splatter of red dotted the velvet pink suit he’d chosen to wear to the Golightly gala this evening. What in the fuck had happened while he’d been busy with Tatiana? He glanced around, but the rest of the party seemed relatively normal; a few scandalized party guests shot glances in their direction, but other than that, no fires to put out. No one seemed to be screaming at the sight of bodies piled up on the floor.

“Holloway, what the fuck happened to you?” he demanded, gesturing at Raymond’s clothing. He looked wild-eyed and almost feverish, clearly desperate to tell Alex something, and before the Captain could open his mouth and tell Raymond to calm down and just get on with it already, Raymond was shaking Alex by the shoulders (enough to give him a concussion, honestly, the man had fucking meatball-sized hands) and confessing that Tatiana was there. At the party. Tonight.

“I know, I just got done fucking her,” he said, prying Raymond’s fingers from his jacket. It was a statement that made light of their reunion, but he couldn’t risk to expose more than necessary in public; he knew Raymond would understand. He knew his Underboss would comprehend with a single glance what that meant to him. “Who else knows she’s here, Ray? Anyone aside from the Russians? If she gets into the wrong hands, it could be--” He trailed off, not letting himself complete the thought as he yanked his phone out of his pocket.

“I’m texting Declan. He’s supposed to be keeping an eye on her to make sure nothing funny happens. Valentina doesn’t know she came out here tonight--if he gets mad enough, his crazy ass father could rear its ugly head in that fickle nature of his.”

Daniel smiled, “this is my life now, even if I’m not that big of a fan of this suit.” He joked shaking his head and looking down at himself. “they are anything but comfortable.” His brow raised and he looked at his boss, listening to him praise Elsie. He hung his head and shrugged, “I don’t know. I honestly don’t blame her if she doesn’t trust me. Hell, I left here. Promised her something different than this, no offense.” He shook his head, “then I left her. I wouldn’t trust me if I was her either, but I’m trying. I appreciate you though. So whatever you need. Even if it’s for me to wear this damn suit five out of seven days of the week, I’ll do it. As long as she’s taken care of and I can just… just be close to her. I owe you everything, Cap. So even if I’m not cut out for these types of things, you can bet I’m going to be here.”

"You get used to the suits; they’re a part of the territory,” Alex explained with a slight shrug. It was only half-true--he’d been wearing suits for so long now, to maintain the air of professionalism that was required of his profession, that it had become second nature to him. He tilted his head slightly as Daniel pressed on about Elsie; he valued his Reaper, so all it would take was a single word from her to send Daniel packing. Thus far, though, she’d been mysteriously quiet about the man she had a tangled romantic situation with.

“It’s not a lifestyle for the weak, certainly, but Elsie was never cut out for a soft life--the family’s too ingrained in her very blood to walk away from,” Alex said simply. “Once you’re in, you’re in for life. Her uncle learned that. She has, too, if her loyalty is anything to go by. Appreciate the willingness, though--it’s the sort of tenacity that I look for in all my new recruits. Generally Donovan handles the crews; I’ll pass along my favor, then, if you keep this up.”