Do you feel bad for me?

“Projecting? That would assume you know me,” Tommi laughed incredulously.  He looked around.  “This is a shithole? Where the hell else have you lived Princess?” He filed the information away though, sure to bring it up with some of the more trusted members of the family.   “Catania was not great.  The humidity made it so that everything was always…damp… and the large fish market meant that any bit of a breeze and most of the city smelt of dead fish.”   Tommi sniffed at the air.  “This place seems much better in comparison.”  Even with everything he’d heard about the one noble family.  “Verona has the newest athletic facilities, so it’s not a choice that’s necessarily up to me.  I put some trust in my coaches and trainers as we work towards my goals.”  

Dylan let the princess comment go. She was far from anything like that, she thought. Maybe in her childhood dreams, only. “Looks can be deceiving,” she said cryptically, listening to the Dom intently. “You some kind of bigshot football player?” Dylan asked, her interest piqued by the suggestion.

Ever since she was young, Claude was used to being up really late and some nights not even sleep at all. It was how she rebelled and became stronger each and every passing day. In fact the girl taught herself that if things needed to be done she needed to be alert. Thus with the security needing to be tighter than before. She was awake and fully alert on this night. Taking a breather as Claude glances up at the outskirts of the tower. She knew that taking a break would do her good. 

Approaching the doorway however, she couldn’t help but notice someone oddly familiar to her. “Didn’t think I find you on this night.” Claude says looking over with flickering eyes. Hand reaching for her pocket as she grabs her pack of cigarette and a lighter. 

The submissive glanced to the woman next to her, brow furrowing at her words. “Yeah?” Dylan asked reluctantly. “You were looking for me...?” Claude was certainly familiar to her, too, but then so were many people who lived at or hovered around Montague Tower. Dylan was never one to have made too many friends with her ‘family,’ though she was acquainted with plenty of them. She didn’t think she had been acquainted with this particular Dominant before, however...

     Exhausted after a long day at the workshop, Charlie was looking forward to going back to her apartment at the Tower–for once–and heading to bed. She hated being stuck there, but for now, that was home and she’d gotten used to the routine of being there. As she neared the entrance, she caught sight of a woman. Not knowing who she was and recognizing the danger of being outdoors in the middle of the night, she decided to approach her. “Do you need some help?” 

Dylan chuckled under her breath, recognizing the familiar question. “Do I look like somebody who needs a lot of help?” she asked, her tone more sincere than sharp. “Not trying to sound like a dick... just get asked that question a lot. Never really sure why...”

“Oh God…. I’m not looking for details.” Georgie pulled a face, though now any doubts about Celeste’s relationship with this woman were thrown out the window. Dylan, possibly Mateo, what other submissives did her mother get involved with that weren’t her claims? No, Georgie didn’t want to think about that, so instead she turned the conversation back to Dylan, “What are you doing here right now?” 

Dylan let it go, not in much of a mood to discuss her dynamic with Celeste anyway, especially given she was no longer there, and particularly not with her daughter. Though she did wonder why Georgie had stayed behind. “Could ask you the same thing,” she answered quietly. “Why didn’t you go with her?”

Lysander had ended up on this side of the town only because he’d needed to run an errand in the area.

Being around the tower was probably unwise because of everything that was happening, but he had decided quickly to not worry too much about it. When he spotted the girl wandering outside, he furrowed his brow, “You’re looking a little lost… Probably not wise to be so during a time like this.”

Dylan eyed the man cautiously, wondering for a moment what he must have meant by ‘a time like this.’ She thought he must have been referring to Oz’s arrest -- ironic. “Ah, no, I’m okay,” she said politely. “I actually live here, so...” Dylan let those words linger for a moment. “Just not really ready to go home tonight, I guess...”

Silvius had to laugh at her reply. At least it was honest. “Please … double crossing a bunch of criminals is probably the most upstanding thing you can do. When we did our research on that family, we were appalled. They can play at being nice people but they are more ruthless than I have ever been in my life. Their money is soaked in blood.”

Dylan swallowed as she lingered on his words, knowing them to be true. That had always been her opinion of the Montagues: one of the reasons why she had resisted the family for so long. But one thing didn’t sit right with her... the girl Oz had been accused of murdering. “Rosemund Reed,” she said boldly, praying she would not regret uttering the name. “Are you telling me you guys had nothing to do with her?”

Silvius nodded. “I understand that. We don’t know each other but sometimes life makes strange bedfellows. You must trust us and we must trust you. Those are the facts of this matter. Are you trustworthy, Dylan?”

Dylan laughed incredulously, almost bitterly. “Am I trustworthy? I’m double crossing the Montagues, what makes you think I’m trustworthy?”

“Obviously. She wouldn’t like you if you were naughty.” Actually, she would, but to have restrictions lifted, Celeste must have broken Dylan in. Though Georgie was loathe to actually think how. It was the why she was more curious about. “You’re a Montague now, aren’t you?”

“Yea, I guess so,” she answered, always reluctant to identify herself as such, especially lately. Technically she was a Montague, but she wondered if it wasn’t more accurate to think of herself as an honorary Romano at this stage. “Listen, uh-- Georgie? Not to be a dick, but I don’t know if you really want to ask too many questions about it...” If she had a mom, Dylan couldn’t imagine she’d want to know too much about her sex life. Did Georgie even understand that aspect of things? Or maybe she didn’t care. Maybe she was used to it.

Her hands continue combing through Dylan’s hair, deftly separating blonde tresses with the sectioning clips before heading over to her dresser to locate the heat spray, applying it liberally to Dylan’s head as she listens to the girl. The insecurity in her tone has her head tilting slightly, lips pressing together as she gently coaxes the iron through Dylan’s hair. “…. I don’t think you are, but why do you think that?”

“Cause I lie,” she answered readily, leaning comfortably against her friend as Posey worked on her hair. “Nobody likes a liar.” There were even worse things Dylan was guilty of, things that haunted her conscience, but those were things she could never admit to most people; not even Posey, who she practically spilled her life story to at one point.