#zephyr01

Where: The King’s Penthouse | Milena King’s Study When: 6am, A day after Lorenzo Vittori’s death

It’d been the only thing on the news, each broadcast detailing the passing of Lorenzo Vittori. And while Emilia knew it was a terrible thing to celebrate, she couldn’t bring herself to care. Let him rot in the ground, become food for the worms, it was what a man like that deserved. After all, it’d been his lips that gave the order to kill her mother... The residence was fairly empty, a gruff voice catching her attention as she busied herself in the kitchen. Zephyr. It’d been a year ago that she’d heard the truth from the man, opening up pandora’s box that ultimately pushed her to leave. And while it’d ate away at her for months, it’d also spurred a change within her. This life was something that would always stick with her, and if she was damned by her name, then she could at least pick the path she took to fall from grace.

A cup of coffee in her hands, Emilia found her way to her mother’s old study. One room she’d refused to step foot in. Until now. The door was left slightly ajar, just enough that she could see a gleam of blond hair, a figure sitting at the desk. It was strange feeling apprehensive about talking to someone she knew so well, someone she trusted. Hell, Zephyr had been forced to sit through ballet recitals when Milena or Marco couldn’t make it... She knocked on the door, making her way inside to set down the mug on the desk. “I just made a fresh pot, figured you might want some considering most of the world still isn’t up and the day’s most recent developments.” For the most part, the room had barely changed. The green wallpaper, the dark and expensive furniture, pictures from memories passed. All were reminders- like her mother would appear around the corner, a stern look painted on her face. “You know, you can redecorate this room if you want- I never told my mom this, but I always thought it was a bit much.” Emilia said with a smile, before she took a seat. “I... I wanted to ask you something- if you’re busy, I can come back later though?”

The words came out in a much weaker tone than she’d intended, despite the silent pep talk Cassidy had given herself on her short walk across the courtyard. This was a terrible idea. This was a dangerous idea. Who did she think she was? Cass had been under the control of the Kovali organization long enough to know that biting the hand that fed her, sometimes quite literally, was the dumbest thing she could do. And yet she couldn’t help but replay the phrase what if in her head. What if this could help her somehow? What if her lie could get the tiniest bit better? If she had the underboss behind her, perhaps she would be exposed to a new world of possibilities.

And so she stood in front of his office door, determined to get inside before she lost her courage. The guard laughed in her face, eyes covering the length of her body before he spoke. “What you could possibly have to say to him?” There was an out - she could turn and run - but instead, Cass dug her heels in. “I saw something at the bombing. He needs to know.” It was a lie, of course, but enough to make the guard sigh, open the door, and mumble something to the underboss; he then came back out and ushered her inside. Cassidy stepped inside, crossing her arms over her chest as the door shut behind her.

Hour 52. Two days after the event, and still, it was like radio silence. She’d been whisked away from the hospital and sent immediately to the King’s penthouse. And that had been that. Milena’s lips were sealed tight about everything that had happened, two security guards stood outside her door. She wasn’t allowed to leave to her apartment, work, school. The night had been... terrifying. Emilia couldn’t get the picture of blood out of her head, the deafening scream and gunshot. Then? Chaos. Like the gates of Hades, a flood of limbs and panic stampeded the museum. Her eyes fixated themselves on a man headed towards her. A stranger, but the hate in his eyes was unmistakable. She’d seen it once before, in New York. There was a glint of steel in his hand, but then suddenly everything had gone dark. When she came too, blood running down her face and head pounding, someone grabbed her away. 

Emilia stared at the splint that adorned her wrist, a shiver running down her spine. Stay in bed, minimize your movements, you had a pretty bad concussion, the doctor had told her. Her body felt as though it had been hit by a truck, but the worse part was the fear that had settled in her stomach. Emilia liked control, she liked being able to think that things would not slip her grasp. That her decisions and the outside world were something she could hold onto. But now? She wasn’t so sure. What part did she play in this? Why did she feel afraid?

The door slammed behind her and the brunette slowly made her way down the hall. The living room was empty, sans for a single figure that she recognized. Blond hair, tall caught her attention. “Zeph?” She hadn’t seen him since the party... “Are you okay?” Emilia took a wobbly step towards her, hand shooting out to grab the bookcase to steady herself. A thousand questions began circulating in her brain...”What the hell happened.”

Nina knew that he would hate being here. Not only was a fancy party decidedly not his thing, but nothing good ever happened when Montreal’s powerhouses were in close proximity. He’d be on high alert, he’d want to go home and get down to business...so she would have to entertain him. Her eyes scanned the crowd and when she managed to locate the Ivory underboss, Nina made a beeline to him.

“Hey, do you want some crostini?” She presented an appetizer plate closer to his face than necessary so he could better see the offering. “I don’t know exactly what’s on it, but it’s not bad. I mean, I’ve had better, but this is Canada.”

The time was slowly ticking away, night turning into morning before the sun set once more.  Nearly 38 hours. As the beatings continued, De La Torre and Jackson were being pushed to their limit. Each fist raked across skin, each blow brought death an inch closer. It was to be expected. For the first time, the Faction had the upper hand. It was the first time they could put a face to the name and make it pay for all the pain caused by the Kovali. Members were all but lining up for the opportunity. Julian sat in his office, wiping old blood off his hands as his eyes watched the television. Irena and Rafal Kovali were hospitalized, there was no news about the kids... but he was hoping to see a mournful tribute anytime soon. The blast had been powerful enough, and the added shrapnel? Jasper Lee, that little genius, had concocted a disaster. Forty-five lives later and the death toll was still expected to rise. 

Making his way into the basement, Julian couldn’t help but let out a loud tsk tsk. “For fuck’s sake Jackson, you got blood on my floor.” Julian had made a big point of bringing in Catalina Demir to see her... well, he wasn’t quite sure what his investment and the Kovali underboss exactly were. But judging by the look that crossed her features the moment she realized who the captive was... Some things truly were priceless.