BLOOD COLD AS ICE.

Reina’s words are meant to be reassuring, Rowan is sure, and in a sense they are. However, she still has a stone of guilt sitting in the pit of her stomach despite them, and she knows it likely won’t be going away until she is out of her sister’s perfectly maintained hair. “I know you would, but that still doesn’t mean it should be here. Eventually you’re going to have to stop trying to take care of everything for me,” she points out, voice taking on a gentler tone. Though she knows for their entire lives it has always been like that – Reina has always taken care of her, she’s not sure that’s going to be a habit either of them can ever completely break after everything. However, Reina’s next words have Rowan subconsciously putting up her defenses and that’s mirrored in the way she straightens her back and squares her shoulders. “He’s doing what he can to help,” she confirms with a nod, not quite willing to give Reina any of the more personal details. “I assume you’ve got an opinion on that?” A lot of people probably will when it gets out, she’s sure, the fact that she and her husband are headed for a divorce being so quickly followed up with any kind of relationship with her ex will surely raise some eyebrows – but she doesn’t care about the opinions of a lot of people. Reina’s opinion, on the other hand, is one she’s always going to care about despite sometimes wishing she didn’t. 

•

The thought of letting Rowan take care of her own shit, especially something like this, is laughable enough that it manages to bring a snort of the back of Reina’s throat — despite their current predicament and how absolutely not funny it is. “Mhm, when I’m dead I’ll gladly leave you to your own devices.” The truth of the matter is that there will never be a time Reina hangs her sister out to dry, especially not with something like this that has her life in danger. Rowan may be an adult, and she may be perfectly capable of handling her own shit, but in Reina’s mind she’s still her baby sister that needs to be shielded from the horrors of the world — and unfortunately, those horrors now include her own husband. There isn’t any scenario that Reina can imagine not taking Rowan in until she finds a safe place to call her own, and even then she’s sure she’ll be hovering like a hawk until they’re one hundred percent positive it’s secure. 

Rowan’s diplomatic answer when it comes to Andy should’ve probably been expected, but it’s enough to have Reina raising an eyebrow. “I don’t have an opinion,” she says, voice going an octave higher in a way that shows that’s clearly a lie. Said opinion really isn’t as bad as Rowan probably thinks it is, though. “Look, before you decided enough was enough I thought it was a little stupid of you to put yourself in a potentially dangerous situation like that. But now that you’ve officially told Tyson to go fuck himself I think it’s a good thing. And I think he can probably keep you safe.” In truth, Reina genuinely does like Andrew. He’s a good guy and he’d taken one for the team in terms of serving time, which has earned him a lot of respect from her on the business side of things. Her only qualms when it came to him were because he’d broken her sister’s heart previously, and then decided to knock her up despite the fact that she’d gone and married a ticking time bomb. Other than that, he’s practically a patron saint compared to the men they’re both used to. “I just wanna remind you that he’s still a part of this family and there’s always gonna be risk that comes with that. But if you’ve decided you don’t give a fuck, then neither do I.”

@rcinathane​

Saturday December 19th, 2020 aka CURRENT TIME

All he wanted was to see his kids. So he got his ass up from his bed in his new lonely townhouse and started making his way over to his old place. It started with him trying to put his keys into the locks to no avail before then trying to shimmy the door open. Maybe it was stuck because of the temperatures outside. He then started banging on the door, hoping that his wife, well ex-wife, was home. Where else would she be? It’s not like she had any real responsibilities and he’d be the first to shove that back in her face. Finally the door opened and out came Reina. “Really? You changed the fuckin’ locks?” He sounded more than a little bit annoyed, “Lemme see my fuckin’ kids, Reina. Let me see my damn kids.” He knew that she was doing this just to get to him. It’s not like she actually care about the boys. Iris was a different story but still if anyone wanted to be the parent out of the two of them, it was him. He knew his anger was going to get to him soon, hoping that she’d stop being stubborn before it got to that point and he drew attention to himself. 

Of course, Reina knew it was only a matter of time before Anthony got fed up with her games and decided to take matters into his own hands, but it’s still irritating to find him pounding mercilessly on her front door — and even more irritating that she has to step out into the cold to deal with him. She’s certainly not about to let him inside, though, so she quickly steps out and shuts the door tightly behind her, glaring over at him as she does. “Do you genuinely think I’m stupid enough to just let you walk around with a key to my home?” As soon as he’d moved out, she’d had the locked changed — not because she thinks Anthony would harm them in any way, but because she’d been preparing for a moment like this where he’d find the audacity to just barge into her house and snatch her kids up. “Have you forgotten that I have a court order stating you’re not allowed to see them? Or did that just slip from that tiny little brain of yours?” She’d filed for temporary full custody while their divorce gets settled, claiming that Anthony’s way of life puts the kids in danger — as if she doesn’t lead the same life he does. The court doesn’t know that, though, and it’d been granted easily enough. Full custody might be a little more difficult for her to get once they’re officially divorced, but Reina’s willing to fight tooth and nail to get her way. Looking him up and down, she steps more firmly onto the concrete outside of her front door as she crosses her arms with a scowl. “If you wanna see the kids, Anthony, you know what I want. Otherwise, get the fuck off of my porch.”

Jealousy has always been a dominant trait in Reina’s genetic make up — it’s been that way since high school, when she’d ruin girl’s lives for even looking in the direction of any guy she was even slightly interested in. She’d once put peanut oil on a friend’s lip gloss knowing it’d make her lips blow up and her neck break out in hives right before the other girl went to kiss a boy she had a crush on after school one day. Reina then slept with him the following weekend at a party. Over time, she’s graduated from peanut oil to straight up poison when she sees Anthony ogling some groupie or finds out he slept with someone new, but that’s less because she wants him and more to do with asserting her dominance in the situation. She likes to think she’s gotten better about her jealous — that it’s less rampant in her brain and more of a game at this point — and then she sees Caine chatting up a pretty blonde at the bar while they’re at some hotel party for the family, and all of her supposed progress goes out the fucking window.

Usually the two of them ignore each other at these things, favoring caution when they’re in public so they don’t raise any eyebrows, but it takes exactly two seconds after the blonde vacates Caine’s presence for Reina to sidle up beside him and tell him to meet her in a room upstairs. She doesn’t miss the hesitation in his eyes but of course he agrees — he always does when it comes to her — and soon they’re alone in another hotel room, as is their usual. Except this time, Reina’s not in any hurry to jump his bones. “I saw you talking to that woman,” she says, cutting right to the chase while she makes herself a drink from the mini bar — as if she hasn’t already had enough. “Are you fucking her?”

CAINE.

Lately, Caine and Reina have hit a wall. It seemed like every time he wanted to do something, she was pulling another direction. Every time she wanted something, he was going another. Honestly, the pressure of the pairing and the fact that Anthony was still in the picture years after Caine and Reina began-- whatever this is, is starting to get to him. Maybe if he was a better person, he'd pack up and leave or maybe if he was a worse person, he'd lay an ultimatum on the table and tell Reina to take it or leave it. She was happy with him anyways. Way happier than with Anthony. Which only leads Caine to the point where he's tired of pretending and tired of fighting. Unfortunately, that also doesn't mean he doesn't have to see Reina around every turn. He still wanted to be with her but there was only so much he could take. The blonde had been a breath of fresh air. She was younger but not prettier than Reina to the man, but she wasn't attached to a crime boss either. She was a friend of a friend she had said and the burning into the back of his skull is probably what made the woman leave her number and head off into the rest of the party. Reina's tone doesn't shock him but in the same step, it does. She doesn't control him or she doesn't get to. Not when she was still married with kids.

None of it changes the fact that when she asks him to come with her, he does and once they go up to the hotel room, Caine's already gripping at his temples. It was definitely not a night of drinks, laughter and shower sex tonight, he guessed. Almost immediately, he's on guard and she's throwing questions that sound more like accusations to him. "And if I was? What? You're going to march down there and tell her to stop fucking your-- your what?" he says sarcastically.

REINA.

It’s the work around that gets her — the answer only a lawyer would give when he doesn’t want to show his hand. In Reina’s mind, it’s a confirmation that Caine has been fucking this woman behind her back, even though there’s literally no evidence to prove that’s the reality other than the conversation she’d seen him have with her. “Maybe I’ll just go down and smash her face into the bar. No words necessary for that,” she scoffs, eyes narrowed and she angrily takes a sip of the drink she’d just made that’s got a little too much tequila in it. Of course that’s easier said than done when there’s a ballroom full of people downstairs who all know her name, but Reina’s got enough pull that it probably wouldn’t get her in too much trouble with anyone but Anthony — however, explaining the reasoning behind her actions to her husband just isn’t a possibility, so she chooses to refrain from acting on impulse. That doesn’t mean she isn’t still pissed, though, especially since Caine’s clearly just using the situation to make her give him some kind of validation. “What do you want me to do, Caine? You want me to go let the world know we’ve been having an affair just to keep you from fucking other women?” Her words are entirely hypothetical, because clearly that’s not going to happen, but Reina can’t help but feel like that might actually be what he wants from her. And it’s fucking exhausting that she’s finally found some good in her life and he’s willing to ruin it just because some mediocre looking blonde bitch gave him attention. “You knew what this had to be. You’ve been fine with it for three years and now you suddenly have wandering dick syndrome too?”

CAINE.

While Caine knew that Reina isn't normally bluffing about the physical violence he's sure she'd love to commit against the blonde that he barely even knows. Beyond not knowing her, he definitely hasn't seen the woman naked but he's not so keen on letting the woman win. The pair were both stubborn to a fault, something he's not even willing to admit but his analytical mind has already started going, thinking about every which way this could pan out-- none of them really involved Reina causing a scene downstairs. "Maybe then we'd have some real fucking truth going on around here," he tells her, with an angry laugh that keeps him from yelling. He's not much of a yeller but Reina sure as Hell was. "Wandering Dick Syndrome? Don't fucking compare me to your shitty husband, Reina. I'm the one that's been loyal. Not him. Not you," he reminds her. Reina, admittedly can't really be loyal considering she's at least obligated to be in the same home as Anthony but there's no way she hasn't been in the same bed with him for the last three years. "I just think it's crazy that I talk to one fucking woman and all of a sudden I'm fucking half of Manhattan? You don't know me better than that by now? Huh?" he asks, throwing his hands down to his sides, leaning against the dresser of the hotel room, blue eyes like ice cut with anger.

CONTINUED — @unknownwcnder​

“Oh, please. Since when do you care about that?” Caine’s obviously more than likely not thrilled about the fact that Reina can’t just give him all of her loyalty, it’s clearly never been enough of an issue that he feels the need to end things because of it. Part of her thinks that might be what this is about, because even though she’d been the one to bring it up and go ballistic on Caine for something so small, he hadn’t hesitated to throw the fact that she’s still married right back in her face. “Don’t turn this around on me. You were the one getting cozy with some dumb whore at the bar,” she spits, gesturing wildly around her as if the woman in question is right there for her to reference. Of course, he’s probably telling the truth. Maybe her reaction to Caine simply having a conversation with another woman isn’t all that warranted, and maybe he isn’t actually fucking her and the rest of the city, but with each passing second Reina’s deep insecurities make her spiral further and further out of control. This has to be the end, she thinks — he’d been purposefully flirting with another woman because he wants out, but he’s too much of a coward to just come out and say it. “If this isn’t enough for you I’d much rather you just fucking say that to me instead of rubbing it in my face in public. And if that’s really the case then you can kindly go fuck yourself.”

For the last few days, Reina’s been housing her sister and niece in an effort to keep them away from the monster that is her husband — but that hasn’t stopped him from trying to weasel his way back into her life anyway. She’s tried blocking his number but the man is relentless, calling her from payphones and restricted numbers for the last day or so. She’s surprised he hasn’t had the audacity to just show up at the townhouse but it’s probably only a matter of time until that very thing happens. It’s times like these that Reina almost wishes she hadn’t kicked Anthony out of the house so soon. The doors are all locked and secure and they’ve got a few of their capos rotating watch outside to make sure Tyson doesn’t try anything, but the anxiety is still there and she can see it in Rowan as well — especially when Reina’s phone buzzes for the tenth time in an hour. She’s putting on a brave face for Maddie but Reina knows when her sister is on edge, it’s impossible for her to hide it. And despite her own worries, Reina can’t help but feel the need to ease Rowan’s. “You’d think he’d take a hint,” she says, turning her phone over as they watch the girls play on the living room floor. Maddie’s got less of a pep in her step since they’ve come over, of course, but being with Iris seems to be a nice distraction and Reina’s happy to see it. “Doesn’t matter anyway. You’re in the safest place you could possibly be right now. There’s not a chance in hell he’s not shot on sight if he shows up here.”

ROWAN.

Reina's house is the only place Rowan has any real interest in being at that particular moment. She hasn't been back to her apartment since she and Maddie had left for Thanksgiving dinner almost a week prior, having spent a few nights in Rhea Thane's guest room before inevitably ending up with her sister. She doesn't miss the so-called home that she shared with her husband, and if she never had to step foot in there again it would be too soon --- Rowan doesn't hold any emotional attachment to it, or at least not anything positive. All it holds is bad memories. Rowan is very much aware of how many times Reina's phone has rang since she arrived, and knowing that Tyson would figure out where she was sooner or later she didn't need to see the caller ID to know who was behind them all. "That's never been his strong suit," Rowan sighs out, a fresh wave of anxiety rolling over her as she resists the urge to go look out the window again, as if she'll see his car parked across the street. "I'm sorry I'm draggin' all this right to your doorstep. We should be out of here soon enough."

CONTINUED — @rcwan​

Every so often Reina notices the color wash from Rowan’s face as they stand in her kitchen seemingly just waiting for the other shoe to drop, and she doesn’t miss the way her eyes shift to the window like she thinks Tyson’s just going to be standing there watching them or something equally as horrifying. It’s enough to make Reina put her phone to the side for now, completely turned off and out of mind, because no business call or anything else is worth making her sister’s anxiety worse. An apology is the last thing she wants to hear from Rowan, and although it’s expected she simply refuses to let the other woman think it’s necessary. “Hey — don’t you dare apologize for this. I’d rather it be on my doorstep than anywhere else and you know you can take as long as you need.” As far as Reina’s concerned, her home is always Rowan’s as well. It’s been that way since she moved out on her own and they finally had a place where Rowan could just get away from their father, if only for a night or two, and it will continue to be that way for the rest of their lives. Still, she and Maddie are obviously going to eventually need their own space and Reina can’t help but wonder what’s going on with that. “Andrew’s helping you find a place?”