#angelo01

Where: The Bianchi Estate | The Study When: December 6th, Early Morning

It’d been another cell phone call, a reporter asking for a statement as Leyla seethed. Grief was a business in a city like theirs. Especially since Gregory was more of a God than a man... at least he had been. It wouldn’t be long until the vultures descended on the house- if they weren’t out there already- peeking through gates to a glimpse of those left behind. How much would a picture of her mother crying go for? Who would be the highest bidder? Though she didn’t really care what they said about her father, privacy was something Leyla valued. They couldn’t afford to be seen as weak during a time like this. “You want a story? Publish this- Fuck. You.” Leyla let out a dark laugh. “In fact, you can fucking quote me on that. Have a nice day!” It wasn’t long after when a notification popped up on the screen: Gregory Bianchi, CEO of Bianchi industries, murdered in his own home. Robbery gone wrong or someone settling the scores? She needed to find Angelo... Stepping into her father’s former study, a place that felt so unfamiliar, she saw her brother hunched over paperwork at the desk. Her brother, the crown prince now a King... At least Angelo had never shut her out. “Have you seen this?” Leyla sighed before she slid her phone over to him. “I thought we controlled the papers... they’re taking the narrative! If we-” She let the words falter, surely he new the consequences better than anyone. For a brief second, her critical gaze soften with realization. “How... how are you?” In all the chaos, Leyla hadn’t even checked in with him, guilt turning a knot in her stomach. It’d always been Gregory that could keep Angelo’s anger in check, alongside Elena; the man was a rock to his eldest. And now? He was gone.

Where: The Bianchi Estate | The Front Door  When: December 11th | 

Playing the part of grieving daughter meant shaking hands, thanking the guests, and ensuring that every condolence was graciously accepted. For the most part, Leyla had done just that... but as the guests starting coming in troves, she couldn’t help but notice a few strange faces. The Alvarez family. Their business, as she gathered it, was all things addictive. An empire built on  jungles, sand, and white powder, they held the southern hemisphere in the palm of their hands. It wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary for the other power players to pay their respects, the old world custom lasting even through decades of violence. Eyes curiously looking after one of the women, her attention was drawn away by a glimmer of blond hair. It was a few steps until she found herself at her brother’s side, Leyla’s voice hushed. "I didn’t realize we invited some of the Alvarez...?” Maybe Angelo was looking for an alliance- that type of news would still be over the soldier’s head, despite her last name.