❛❛ 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒

he hummed in agreement, acutely aware of the fact that expensive alcohol smoothed over many betrayals, but not in his team. most people who worked with him learned quickly not to probe— but amara had never been most people. she operated in the spaces between what was said and what was understood, and he respected that currency. the question was... out of the blue, to say the least. but he's willing to humour her, wanting to know where this was leading. "henry brought me in because he knew what i could contribute and i wanted ICB because nothing else was on par." lorenzo was already well-recognised in the financial circles on the other side of the atlantic when he was poached. "he's never been under an illusion that i only live to trade and the pathway's mapped out. loyalty... goes both ways." he studied her carefully, noting the way she lingered by the door— poised between staying and leaving, much like her question suggested she was poised between something else entirely. "what's the real question, amara? are you asking if i'd do it differently, or are you asking for permission to do it your way?"

time had a way of doing many things but it was difficult to predict what effect it had on the families' defence mechanisms. they were typically the sorts of conversations lorenzo steered clear from. yet here he was, discussing with aarti. she was not wrong that desperate people made desperate calls. hell, he'd been on the receiving end of several in his years, even if in wildly different circumstances than what she was alluding to, with the war that was simmering away. "and i'm just a banker," he shrugged with a small chuckle, "but i would say that you have a good grasp on human nature. so you may not be too far off the mark there." though there was something that he couldn't quite put his finger on; she seemed to have thought about this enough to have arrived at that conclusion. why? "did you have anything in mind for that drink that may short circuit my brain? i feel like i need to know what i'm getting myself into," he said, veering the conversation away from the happenings of the city.

━━━Rhys looked at him, briefly, the hint of a smirk tugged on the corner of his lips. “you do like talking about your job though,” he teased him; his tone was playful, meant as a jab. in truth, he might have asked a couple of questions if he was not half-concerned that Lorenzo would regret starting this conversation; only to be asked the same things he probably does in every other conversation at such events. “honestly, I’d rather fund my idea rather than deal with the interest and the expectations.” his business were mainly for money laundering, and even if he didn’t speak it, he was certain most of the filthy rich clients of their bank were doing the exact same thing —he knew some were for a fact. but here he is a bodyguard to most; not a businessman, and certainly not a hitman. “say, if you weren’t doing this, what else would you have liked to do?”

it was easy to talk to rhys— civility with a dash of genuine respect. the jabs they traded were never personal. "my job's different," he quipped with a slight smirk of his own. although he understood rhys' point of view, fresh ideas in a hungry world were the easiest currency to sell. so he liked the business-model of the status quo and the trade-offs it brought. when asked what he could have done instead of this, lorenzo felt somewhat stumped. "oh, god... i mean— i, for one, feel like this is all i'm built for." that, and he had never steered himself in an alternative direction. "i don't know, a fisherman in italy, maybe?" his answer was nonsensical, evidence to the fact that he couldn't quite picture himself doing anything else. although this wasn't the end goal. no, he had greater ambitions than his current title as head of trading. "what about you?"

Nayeli grinned, sliding into the seat without hesitation. “Well, if you’re used to random people making your day more interesting, I guess I’ll have to step up my game. But no, you’re not number five … congrats, you’re the only one who got the pitch today. I’m not running some kind of speed-interview circuit, promise.” She tried to keep it light, but a weird guilt crept in. Lying wasn’t her thing, at least not when it mattered. Her mind kept circling back to how easy it would be to just keep on flirting, but that wasn’t fair. He deserved the truth - or the partial truth, at least. “Actually, I should be honest. I didn’t just come over because you’re good-looking. I’m helping a friend with her writing project and you looked like someone with stories worth stealing. If you’re cool with it, can I pick your brain for a bit? Drinks are on me, scout’s honor.”

"i am? well— i appreciate you not bruising my ego," he said with an amused sigh. there was no real way of knowing if she was telling the truth, but he was not being serious either. it seemed like she was going to start a sales pitch he'd heard several times over when she began telling him more about why she'd approached him and he was pleasantly surprised to hear that it was not. "i'm not quite sure what sort of stories would be of assistance to your friend, but sure, why not?" he could skirt around any details necessary so as to not delve information he wasn't open to sharing. "is your friend writing something on the financial sector? because my advice would be to skip the guys who look too busy to hold a conversation. they're still chasing dreams." and he had made his reality— most of them at least. but he wasn't done yet.

“I’m all about efficiency,” Nayeli shot back, flashing him a quick grin. “If I spot someone who checks both boxes, why waste time pretending otherwise?” She let the joke land, then shrugged like she did this sort of thing every day, yeah, right. Her brain was running wild; not exactly nerves, just that weird thrill when a risk might actually pay off. She wasn’t here to play it cool anyway. She needed him for her character. "I thought I'd skip the small talk because you seem like the kind of guy who gets a lot of attention." The nerves were gone now. He actually seems into this, which she did not expect. "I'm guessing this happens a lot for you? Bold strangers telling you what a hot guy you are, or am I making your day more interesting than usual?” If he’s smart, he’ll keep playing along.

for someone whose life revolved around making time work for him, he could appreciated others' efficiency, no matter what it was regarding. "i hate to break it to you," given that she'd already made that assessment, it wouldn’t be a surprise, "but this isn't the first time." "however—you're definitely breaking up the day." which had meetings, spreadsheets and strategy weaved in; much like any regular day for him. "please," he extended a hand forward, inviting her to take a seat opposite him. being on the same eye-level would mean he wouldn't have to look up at her and mitigate any assumptions that he was just being polite and waiting for her to leave. "i have to ask, though, am i the first person from this cafe that you've approached today? because my day may become less interesting if i'm somewhere like the fifth."

the city needed a lot of things. "if it weighs on you, how about kickstarting something? you could lead the way and who knows, your family may just follow. and if you build your own project, you'd be able to trust the validity of it." unfortunately, lorenzo did not have the inclination for nor time to give to working on the ground. their priorities and outlooks were... different. that was one of the reasons why their arrangement worked so well. "maybe do some preliminary checks on what's needed and what sort of thing you'd want to get involved in. if you put your name to it... it would instantly invite more scrutiny." there were plenty of avenues but where he was concerned, the bank handled where his charitable donations went to— without feeling on his part.

Nayeli had been sitting at Junction Diner, scribbling notes for her next book when she looked up and saw him. Perfect protagonist material - good looking guy in a suit who actually seemed interesting instead of just another boring businessman. "Excuse me," she said, walking over to his table. "I know this is random, but you're really attractive and I'm trying to be braver about talking to people I find interesting." Her heart was beating fast but she kept going. This whole honesty thing felt terrifying and exciting at the same time. Maybe if she was direct about finding him hot, he'd want to keep talking. It wasn't like she was lying - he was hot with a capital H. "I'm Nayeli, by the way." She tucked her hair behind her ear, wondering if she'd just made a complete fool of herself or if this might actually work.

lorenzo had finished up the type of meeting that typically took place in diners and coffee shops far away from investment row, with enough witnesses for it to be deemed a harmless catch up. his company had left him a few minutes back and he was scrolling his calendar when he heard a voice. looking away from the phone screen, he took in the woman's words as a low chuckle left him. not mocking, just a natural reaction to her unabashed approach. "lorenzo." he puts his phone face down on the table— it was only fair that he gave her his undivided attention. "i'll admit, this isn't what people typically lead with but the directness is refreshing." it wasn't subtle, he'd give her that, but he admired the confidence. "now, am i interesting because i'm attractive or is it that an added bonus?" he asked, mildly teasing.

— Dan Baucom (via viperslang)

he paused to consider her words; the truth was that he didn't know the extent to which the onyx circuit could go to in their quest to disrupt the balance of power, nor the lengths that the families would go to maintain their grip on the city. but if he had to hedge a bet... he'd probably put his money on the families, not out of any loyalty, just awareness that things didn't change around devil's junction— not really. "i think so, we may have upheavals in the interim but i think they'll steer it back to the status quo in the end." although when that end was, was also an unknown. "why don't you tell me what you think, while i get a refill," he nods, flipping the script back to her. although it was out of nowhere, aarti's curiosity wasn't particularly bothersome for people were always interested in knowing his take on things, but if she wanted a glance into his mind, it was only fair she share her own thoughts.

at least he didn't have to consider that other ears had picked up on their conversation, but he would correct faiza's path nonetheless. he didn't like slip ups. there was steel in amara’s voice, calculated and sharp— but it was the kind of blade he trusted at his back. especially when everyone else in the room could be carrying scalpels aimed at his ribs. “i like to think you charge more than just a bottle of scotch for betrayal,” he murmured, tone low and dry, gaze stilled on her. there was no apology in his tone— lorenzo didn’t believe in them. amara’s promise to swing by was both casual and loaded, like most things she said. he caught the shift, subtle but unmistakable. "we'll talk strategy once you've had a chance to run through," he adds, leaning forward slightly. one thing was for certain, he didn't need to tell her to keep a lid on things; he trusted her enough to know that she would. "halberstam first, though," he nodded at her, knowing how fresh things were more exciting to the team.

"pretending not to now... that's kind of hard to do," he offered a low chuckle. there was also the matter that she was mahira's sister, so he knew of her on that level, even if she had know knowledge of his association with her sister. but he nodded, taking the point she made on his honesty. people like them were typically surrounded by yes men— and he was the furthest from one. her bank? he couldn't deny that there was an association with the mehra family but it didn't quite extend to ownership. and while he didn't enjoy what she was projecting, it wasn't his place to correct her, though, for he didn't hold the title that would afford that. "we operate on policy with a low tolerance for bullshit, so you wouldn't have to worry about anyone laying it out straight." the bartender arrived with the bill and he settled it with a swipe of his company card. "we're heading back but i hope the rest of your recovery goes well."

She adjusted her stance, racket resting against her hip now, the edges of her smirk fading into something a little more real, a little softer. ❛ I don’t need perfect. Just a few minutes like this. Where it’s quiet enough to hear myself think and sore muscles mean I did something for me. ❜ A pause. ❛ Even if it’s just chasing a ball like a sleep-deprived golden retriever. ❜ A beat. ❛ Thanks for the tips, and for your borrowed time to play with me.❜

he nodded in agreement, different circus— same burnout. everyone was dealing with something, they just needed ways that worked for managing it. the continued gratitude makes him consider just how far removed his life was from hers, when this sort of break was just business (well, not business) as usual for a guy like him. "you're welcome. if you ever want to get better at that backhand, just drop by and book a court under my name. give yourself an hour or two— no need to make it a regular commitment. just... whenever you want." was that his deed of kindness of the day? maybe. he couldn't offer up time to meet her there on the regular but this was something he could do, even if there was no pressure for her to agree. "i'd give you my card but it's not in my bag. i try to have rules about where i take work." even if he attended the courts with his clients.

he had to admit, it wasn't where he saw himself but how much of who he was, was true and how much was manufactured by the finance machinery? "i won't deny... the idea of that terrifies the hell out of me. but it also has the potential to be incredibly liberating if that's the sort of thing you're into." and some people were— put off by the decadency, the privilege. "but you could still do good without dedicating your life to donating your wealth away until you hit zero. plenty of foundations..." which were hollow, but he chose not to emphasise that point. besides, mahira knew just as well as he did that a lot of the charitable causes in the corporate world were more about pr than doing what they were built for.

"no theatrics, just straight to the kill switch." build-ups were pointless, and a waste of time, where you were going in to shut an idea down before it gained traction. when she brought up the inevitable whispering, he chuckled without mirth. where would they be without people mumbling behind their backs? probably still on the trading floor, with others calling the shots above them. he believed that nobody would talk behind your back or attempt to block you if they didn't fear your flight. cages needed to be rattled, even if he wasn't yet able to break them. he shook his head at faiza's slip up. it wasn't as much that he was hiding anything from amara deliberately, just that it was in stages of infancy. "two days sounds good to me. and it's just... in the exploration stage at the minute. don't worry, i know you'd not let me hear the end of it if i didn't let you in. she's doing some digging currently, but you can leaf through what she's found when nobody else is looking." meaning in her office, or the confines of her living space. "were you on the floor when she mentioned it?" he asked, but there was no annoyance in his tone.

"yeah..." he says before downing the rest of his drink, pushing the empty glass forward. "me neither. it's not the kind of thing anyone would want to get wrapped up in if they're not looking for trouble." unless that was someone's cup of tea— it certainly wasn't his. and he was in agreement that it would be exhausting for the families to live like that, but since he had no skin in the game, he only hoped that it didn't end up in an all-out war resulting in bloodshed of innocent people. of-course, there were still people in the families that he cared about, but he was on no side. "they've probably had many threats to their hegemony over the years, ones we probably don't even know about. so i'm sure they'll have plenty of cards up their sleeve... to counter the onyx circuit." even if the families appeared to be the ones on the losing side at present. "bottom line is, whatever happens, i just hope it doesn't trickle down to the regular people."

━━━a smirk played on his lips when he responded with a “not really.” of course, Rhys isn’t interested in business, at least not right now since he hardly has the time for it; his profession has also acquired him quite the wealth, a luxurious, comfortable lifestyle even if he was to retire tonight. he looked at Lorenzo after a moment as he shrugged lightly, added an “I don’t remember most of their ideas either to be honest,” then his gaze drifted back to his principal for a long second. he is not really a talker, but sometimes it is better to keep the conversation going; and he does like Lorenzo so he is not in a particular hurry to find himself in some less pleasant company. “it might be just me,” he smirked, “but if I had an excellent business idea I wouldn’t go around talking to everyone about it.” his business is vastly different than those the speak of and he would not dare claim he has half the idea of how this all works, and absolutely not anywhere near where Lorenzo’s expertise lies.

"that's fair," he agreed, not pushing the topic further. the offer was genuine, but there was no desperation to translate the acquaintance into a client relationship. and he didn't blame rhys for being blasé about what he had heard from some other attendees. for lorenzo, himself, had lost count of how many times he had either tuned out or excused himself from listening to pitches which were not going to go anywhere. he'd been collared at coffee shops, bars and even on a rare break in italy. rhys had a point, but he was only looking at it from the one angle. "amazing ideas are nothing without capital," he said, "and that's why entrance to these... is a hot ticket for some." to generate the finance to take those ideas from the drawing board into reality. of-course, they weren't the ones that the bank had already snapped up; they weren't that kind.