Diamond Heart

She felt quite herself in a room full of people, and when she looked around, adjusting her mask, she let a smile settle on her features. It amazed her how many royal people she saw in attendance and she wondered if her big brother planned on making an appearance. “Excuse me,” she said softly to the person next to her. If she knew them she couldn’t tell behind their mask. “Is there champagne floating by or is there a bar I should make my way to?”

For most of Emilia’s colleagues, the distinction between Russian and Rutherford no longer mattered. A deal had been struck, an alliance made, and the lines had blurred beyond recognition, beyond care. Johnathan might loathe the French, but he knew how their world operated well enough to understand their hatred for them all, regardless of initial allegiance. Especially after New Year’s Eve.

“Hm.” The only reason Johnathan knew how to sail was because of Damon. He had never chosen to engage in it had he not convinced Johnathan to participate. What started out as entertaining a kid had soon become a genuine passion. He’d not get on a horse though. That was absolutely out of the question. “I’m not as talented as most others in London, but I can make do. But please, do lend me a hand in it. I insist.” 

It was hard for Emilia to sort out her feelings at times. The night of New Years Eve, she’d rushed into the Russian/Rutherford event with blinders on her eyes. It wasn’t smart of her, she knew that. But growing up on Launceston had taught her to hate all manner of Russians...she was still learning about the Rutherfords, learning what she could from her father and brother about the family she knew very little about. They warned her time and again to be wary, and while she promised she was, it was half a promise.

She didn’t like seeing that it was unreasonable. One of her many faults.

“You can? That’s fantastic! I’m sure between both of us putting our heads together, we’ll figure something out.” She said, telling herself to be weary. “When are you free after this? I can make anything work with my schedule since I’m my own boss, really.”

Emilia was a little too chipper and full of sunshine and rainbows for Delphine’s tastes, but she was Varden’s sister, which was a very important variable in the equation. And it certainly helped that the younger Lefebvre was willing to show her claws when it came to the Russians.

“Oh, do tell,” Delphine rested her elbow on the bar counter, “Here I thought you were little miss perfect. Although, making a bad impression on Russians is hardly a crime, quite the opposite. I have yet to meet one that doesn’t make me want to put their head into a wood-chipper.”

Emmie couldn’t help but laugh and shake her head. “Apparently that’s how everyone sees me, even after all this time. But I guess I’d rather be underestimated and come out the other side swinging. It’s quite the surprise for some of my opponents. I had my share of fighting on New Years. Namely a woman who had previously tried to gain access to information about the women in my shelter.” She paused for a moment. “Please for the love of God, don’t tell Varden that. He thinks I use my skills for self defense only.” 

Her hatred of them had been ingrained in her blood the moment her birth mother had become pregnant with her. She bled anger at times and so harshly that there were moments that frightened her...but also empowered her. Despite her persona, she wasn’t the little delicate daisy everyone thought she was...and that part of her came from the mother she’d never gotten to know.

When Emilia walked towards Johnathan, he knew who she was, even if they’d never met before. As the Rutherford boss, he had a responsibilty to stay on top of the who’s who, and one man in particular knew the ins and outs of the French. Had Adrian not filled Johnathan in on the relations within the French Organization, he wouldn’t have known that this Emilia was Varden Lefebvre’s sister. 

What a wonderful coincidence. 

Was he particularly good at hiding his shit-eating grin? Absolutely not. It wasn’t every day that he had a French so close to him and didn’t beat them into the concrete at sight. “Nice to meet you. I’m Johnathan.” Instead of his hand, Johnathan offered a nod of his head and without further ado, opened the plastic egg in his hands. He pulled out a piece of paper and read aloud, “David, nine-years-old, wants to go ride a horse and sailing.” He looked at Emilia, an eyebrow raised. “I assume you can help with the first part?”

At least Emmie had told her brother where she was headed before showing up at her current destination. She wished her clutch came with mace or some other kind of protective device, but with her brother beside her she’d left them at the door to her home. And in a dress like this one it would be hard to put up a fight but she could do it, if she had to. She’d never had reason to particularly hate the Rutherfords as much as she did the Russians, even though she knew there was a strange alliance between them. She had blinders on when it came to her hatred of the Vorshevskys.. Everyone else was just in the way.

She chose to see the challenge at hand

“Ride a horse...I definitely know a place we could go to get that done. My best friend Rosalie and I go there all the time,” she offered with a grin and a shrug of her shoulders. “Are you much of a sailor? Because I could help with that too!”

“Does it count as child abuse if I use Yvonne Rutherford as a stick to beat her date to death?” Delphine had her eyes on the unlikely couple when she made her curious inquiry. An obvious joke, the commandant wasn’t dumb enough to start shit at an event like this and put her whole organisation in a spotlight no one could afford. But a girl could dream, could she not? And dreaming about bashing Yvonne and Maksim’s heads together was a rather enjoyable one. 

At her core, Emilia wasn’t a violent person. Not really and truly, deep down. But she’d had her moments in life where she’d been pushed to the brink and was forced to go into rage filled moments where everything went black and she was scratching at someone’s eyes with her perfectly manicured nails. She wondered if she’d gotten her angry streak from her biological mother, mostly because her adoptive family had never shown such hostility. Emilia sipped her drink and couldn’t help a chuckle from coming out of her lips. “I usually keep my nose out of things unless it comes from the Russians. I already have a couple of...acquaintances that I apparently made a bad impression on at some point. Sometimes I talk too much,” she said with a sigh.

@emilia-lefebvre​

Johnathan tried to remember the last time he went on an Easter egg hunt. The memory was blurry, so distant he couldn’t determine whether it had truly happened or if his brain had decided to fabricate it. In this memory, he saw himself, a child, and his grandparents trying to offer whatever form of normality they possibly could after his mother had left them. The attempts were noble and certainly appreciated, and Johnathan knew that his grandparents had tried their best to pick up the pieces of a broken marriage and shattered childhood. But it never worked. Easter soon became another forgotten family tradition that never had a chance to bloom in the first place.

Part of him wanted to leave. He was a man in his fifties who’d seen enough shit to last two life times. An Easter egg hunt wasn’t particularly of interest to him, but he knew it was important to Damon that Johnathan participated. It was important to Johnathan to keep his promise to Jessica. He’d be on his best behavior tonight. And, perhaps, a small part of him pitied the neglected child who had made this wish enough to want to participate.

The trail had led him outside, and his egg had been tucked neatly between two structures in the fountain. Johnathan held it in his fingers, turning it, inspecting. He was waiting for his partner, whoever they were.

The idea of going on an Easter Egg hunt brought back amazing memories for Emilia. Having been part of a tight knit family, she could remember those spring days where she ran with her basket in hand, picking up plastic eggs alongside her cousins and neighbor children from the French district in Launceston. They were some of the best memories she held of her childhood. She had been incredibly lucky to have been brought into the Lefebvre family and although she was adopted, it didn’t feel as such.

She sometimes wondered what her childhood would have been like if her birth mother had lived through labor. It would have been a whole different life. Would she still be the Emilia she was today, or would she be some sort of shadow of her, unable to have made her life mean something with a woman who knew nothing but a life of servitude. She was blessed, that was for sure. She loved her mother and father, her brother Varden was someone she cared for and looked up to. She got lucky.

She held her skirt up as she walked through the venue, trying to find her partner, hoping she was going the right way when she spotted the face of the man that she’d been paired with. “Sorry it took me so long to get here! I couldn’t get away!” He was a Rutherford, she knew that well, but didn’t let it hinder her. They had a job to do. “I’m Emilia.” She offered with a smile and a small wave. “I wonder what our little guy’s easter wish is gonna be.”

It had been hard for her to miss the fact that the French woman was behind her but with all the cameras she didn’t think she was a threat. In fact she did not consider Emilia Lefebvre a threat at all. Divya turned her attention away and offered the camera in front of her all of her attention. A large toothy smile, a quick twirl of her dress and then she was moving again. 

Clearly not far enough because Emilia had spoken to her. A brow raised ever so slightly. 

“You must be high,” The comment was made barely under her breath but loud enough for only Emilia to hear. “The event is great, yes.”

Emilia felt her left eyebrow raise and her eyes narrow but her smile didn’t falter. She was aware that her enthusiasm left a bad taste in some people’s mouths and apparently especially if that mouth was Diva Koshal’s. It didn’t dim how excited she was and didn’t dim her shine. The last thing she wanted to do was cause a rift or cause a scene especially after what happened between the families at New Years.

Don’t acknowledge, don’t acknowledge, don’t acknowledge. Put your anger on ice, Emmie.

“Someone’s not feeling very festive. I’m sure a glass of champagne could do us both some good.”

Being back in front of the cameras felt good, despite her nerves it was as if Honor was finally getting back to her roots, finding her way to showcase her presence within in London. Though, it didn’t stop her from wishing she could just see a familiar face. 

Within moment it was like her wish had been granted because before knew it a beaming Emilia appeared before her. She didn’t know the girl all that well, but they’d had many conversations in the past, mainly at events like these.

“Thank you.”Honor smiled, giving a little twirl and flick of her dress. She took hold of Emilia’s hands, holding them out in front of her as she admired her dress.  “And just look at you, stunning as always. You’re right, tonight truly is an amazing and worthy cause. I hope between us all we can make a lot of children happy.”

Emilia was always happy to see Honor at events. She loved the girl’s clothing line, thinking it exquisite every time she saw it, and Honor was no doubt wearing a dress from one of her collections. The girl always greeted her with a smile and with kindness and grace. She felt a kindred spirit in Honor, she had to admit.

She watched as the girl twirled, clapping her hands before making a pose in her own, her hands in Honor’s. “Oh this old thing?” She teased with a laugh. “It’s good to see you. I’ve been worried about you lately. I’m glad you came. How’ve you been? It’s always nice to see a friendly face in a sea of strangers.” She admitted, not wanting to dwell long on her friend’s loss. Tonight wasn’t the night to bring it up and so she swept onto the next topic. “The concept of this event is quite amazing. Being paired with someone is a bit...scary but it could be fabulous as well.”

The event was in full swing as many people were enjoying it. The many liquor was passing him by from left to right. Frenchman felt the atmosphere was going in the right direction. He looked around the venue as he was taking everything in that caught his attention. 

He heard a familiar voice that he recognized from miles away. The Frenchman grinned to ear to ear as he gave Emilia a hug. “Emilia. It’s been a while.” It was a nice feeling to see an old face from Launceston. 

If it was possible for Emilia’s smile to widen, it did at the sight of an old Launceston friend. The more of her family that came to London, the more at home she was starting to feel. “Richard!” She exclaimed, hugging him back tightly before leaning back to take in his ensemble. “Looking as handsome as usual.

“I missed you! What finally made you decide to join us in London?” She asked sweetly, grabbing a glass of champagne from one of the trays floating around the room.

God this girl was fucking happy. 

“I mean, it’s an event to help children,” Adriana pointed out, trying her best to mask the ‘duh’ undertone in her voice. “Most people would probably agree that the decent thing to do would be to come out and show support.”

Adriana had no plans to cause a scene, not that night, not when Damon and Nora had both worked incredibly hard to make this evening wonderful. But it was fucking hard. Hard to see the people who had damn near burnt down the place at the last event Adriana had been to, walking around in their gowns and tuxes, pretending to be charitable and good. Maybe it was hypocritical of her, given the things Adriana knew the family she claimed had done, but she didn’t care.

“But hey, thanks for the compliment,” Adriana looked down at her own dress, at the very least knowing she damn well looked good. “Let’s hope everyone behaves and no one gets any blood on it.”

“You’d be surprised the humbug people you can find at events like these. People that show up only because they feel like their image will suffer if they don’t at least make an appearance and really could give less of a crap. I see things like that all the time.” She said with a shrug of one shoulder. She grabbed a glass of champagne that was floating around and took a sip her eyes wandering over the party guests in their attire.

She was trying to shake the feeling she wasn’t safe, that none of her family was safe when she remembered Varden was not far away and would be there if anything happened. Still the girl had a point. “No kidding. If people manage to screw this up, the world really is doomed. I’m Emilia.” She offered softly.

Val was incredibly excited to attend the event. Not just for the sake of networking, but because there were few things more fun than spending time with friends all dressed up and eating fancy food. Beyond that, one of her favorite ways to support a foundation was a night out. She was in attendance with a board member of the charity she’d put together a party for over Halloween, and his connections in the wealthy philanthropy world were certainly helpful to keep them busy as bees the moment they arrived. Val was proud of how well she was keeping up with the conversation, the pictures, and the laughs, and it made it easier to forget she was one of the least wealthy people in attendance.

“Oh, thank you, you too!” Val greeted the woman who looked familiar. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard someone make remarks about the “cause” even before they were through the door, but something about the way this woman spoke made Val believe she was genuine. It took a couple seconds for Val to realize why she recognized the woman. The same couple glasses of champagne to pregame that made her recognition slow also prompted her to be brazen enough to reach a hand out try to grasp Emilia’s. “Emilia! You own the shelter, don’t you?”

Emilia recognized the girl immediately having seen her outside of her shelter. Their conversation had gotten cut short but she remembered that they had bonded over exactly what the girl brought up. “Yes! That’s me,” she said reacting to having Val’s hand in her own giving it a squeeze. “You’re Val. It’s so nice to see you again. You’ll be thrilled to know that I’ve kicked my cigarette habit...for the most part,” she teased, scrunching her nose a bit.

Easter was her favorite time of year. Everything was back in full bloom, the snow ceased and new life was everywhere you looked. “I actually helped some of the women start a garden in the outdoor part of the shelter and the children were so excited when they got to see new growth. Hopefully they’ll have a better green thumb than I do. I kill all my plants,” she said with a laugh. “How have you been since we last spoke?”

It had been quite awhile since she and her brother had attended an event together side by side. She knew he was protective over her tonight, being surrounded by another family and she couldn’t blame him at all. Flashes took over her hazel eyes for a moment of Aur on the ground, Fran dead. Then she shook them away.

Not tonight. Tonight was literally for the kids.

She stopped in front of the cameras, her go to pose for pictures being her hand on her hip. Her dress flowed beautifully around her as she made her way past with a wave and a smile. She greeted the person in front of her with a signature Emilia grin raising her eyebrows. “Hello!! Goodness, you look so nice! What a wonderful event. The cause is so brilliant, don’t you think?”

As far as Delphi was concerned, it was her perogative to take a holiday whenever she so pleased. If her father had given her one blessing (and curse) it was her last name. St. Clair. There weren’t many tongues left that would dare to speak of of her title as nepotism. (She’d seen first hand to that bloody business.) And yet, she was more than comfortable exercising her right to a little time back on French soil.

A few days, a week, a month what did it matter. Her men knew better than to slack while she was away. She’d earned their respect and seen to their fear more than once. So she went home and relaxed in the countryside and soaked what sun there was to be had. And then she returned to London. To the fog and the rain and the chill of a late March. As she walked through the park toward her favorite bakery she held her umbrella alooft and scoffed. “This city always smells like a wet bitch,” she hissed, aware her voice was loud enough to be overheard.

Emmie held on tightly to her umbrella as rain poured down from above. She was trying to make herself take more walks, even if those walks left her hair frizzy and her shoes a little wet. When she saw Delphi’s familiar face, she made her way over to the woman, laughing at what she’d overheard. “Yes...I’ll never quite get used to that smell. I can’t tell if it’s better or worse than Launceston.”

“It’s good to see you, Delphi. Welcome back to London!” She said, unsure if the woman would want to hug or not. “How was your trip?”

As far as Delphi was concerned, it was her perogative to take a holiday whenever she so pleased. If her father had given her one blessing (and curse) it was her last name. St. Clair. There weren’t many tongues left that would dare to speak of of her title as nepotism. (She’d seen first hand to that bloody business.) And yet, she was more than comfortable exercising her right to a little time back on French soil.

A few days, a week, a month what did it matter. Her men knew better than to slack while she was away. She’d earned their respect and seen to their fear more than once. So she went home and relaxed in the countryside and soaked what sun there was to be had. And then she returned to London. To the fog and the rain and the chill of a late March. As she walked through the park toward her favorite bakery she held her umbrella alooft and scoffed. “This city always smells like a wet bitch,” she hissed, aware her voice was loud enough to be overheard.

Emmie held on tightly to her umbrella as rain poured down from above. She was trying to make herself take more walks, even if those walks left her hair frizzy and her shoes a little wet. When she saw Delphi’s familiar face, she made her way over to the woman, laughing at what she’d overheard. “Yes...I’ll never quite get used to that smell. I can’t tell if it’s better or worse than Launceston.”

“It’s good to see you, Delphi. Welcome back to London!” She said, unsure if the woman would want to hug or not. “How was your trip?”

Jack’s eyebrows shut up when she mentioned the shelter. “Oh, um, I know - well, used to know, um, Natasha Laris? She ran The Swan Center, they had a few smaller shelters in the area. I think she stepped down, though. Moved.” He knew for a fact she stepped down and moved, and the mention of her name left him feeling unsettled. He still wasn’t certain if she’d come to visit him or not when he was recovering, and he was afraid to ask his brother for the truth.

“Yes, movies and stuff,” he confirmed with a nod, chuckling quietly. “Working on more live shit now. How are things at the shelter? You guys looking for any donations or anything?”

“I’ve heard of Natasha! I never got the pleasure of meeting her but I’ve heard a lot about the shelters she ran. I hope to expand one day like she did and have more than one location. But for now I have just the one.”

“That must be really fun. I’ve always wondered but it would be like to work as an actor. Of course, I haven’t the talent for it, but I think we all wonder. What kind of live shit are you doing now?” She asked with a smile. “The shelter is doing well, actually. I still have a couple open beds for those who need it. I am always looking for donations, food, clothing, toys for the kids inside. I’m running a drive this weekend to hopefully get people to hear about the place and what I’m trying to do with it.”