A THING OF NIGHTMARES

Eldest of the Vronsky clan

“Took” to the family business at an early age - more for knowledge than for power. His unusually sadistic tendencies showed themselves at a very early age, all of which he knew were invariably wrong, so he kept a bit of a tight lid on them until he was a little older

I trust that in the end, they'll chose family when everything else falls. That’s about all I’d afford anyone when it comes to trust

Alexei watched as his eldest entered the room and he couldn’t help but notice how so much of him was mirrored in Zephyr. A piece of him and a piece of Yulia imbedded within their children he wondered if they noticed. Wasn’t that how children presented most of the time? he thought to himself but then shook his head ever so lightly. He was nothing like his father and his mother used to always shudder to think him anywhere near her own character. Alexei chuckles at the words, “Doesn’t mean it isn’t worth asking all the same.” he countered. It bode well to always assume there was more to learn, one too many times had he seen people lose their lives due to arrogance alone. He saved the lecture sure it was one he’d passed on before and instead filled their glasses once more, gesturing for them to sit. “Not so bad hmm….” he raised a brow, “When would you deem it necessary then, Zephyr?” he asked. “When of those attempts are successful and I have to come dressed in black, your grieving mother in tow, and I have to put one of my children in the ground.” he answered himself, this time taking a slower sip. 

“If you hadn’t noticed, I am relaxed.“ The former Navy Seal countered, which wasn’t completely untrue, though perhaps his version of relaxing wasn’t like many others. While most referred to such a term as a common requirement, Ryan Marshall had little time for such things. To an extent there was an inability to do so because of his background, and even the mission at hand. Letting his guard down for even a second could result in failure and furthermore, tragedy. As it had for Kate Montgomery. Nevertheless, the late special agents death was exact fire that needed to be lit under the belly of the eldest Marshall as a stark reminder of what was really on the line when it came to the undercover operation. “Contingencies don’t always go to plan.” Was but all the soldier could remark as he gave a curt nod to the head of the Bratva’s request. “Consider it done.” Though despite his silence, he still couldn’t shake a sense of foreboding. 

He had noticed. It had always been one of Zephyr’s greater skills - observance. It held a lot of weight when one considered the things that he’d accomplished over the years. Every detail precise, the man didn’t let slip those that might have otherwise gone unnoticed and Ryan Marshall’s idea of relaxed hadn’t changed in the time he’d known the man. A state which otherwise might have never hit the mark for anyone else. Briefly, he wondered what it was that kept the man within his security team at bay. “Plans don’t always go to plan, I’d prefer to work without, if we’re being honest.. but, that doesn’t bode well for business.” Which, brought him full circle to where his curiosity about Ryan Marshall lay - “What are you doing here, Ryan? With us?” Us, meaning the bratva, and not the glaring display before them now.

Axel rolled his eyes as he leaned against the bar, plucking his beer bottle off the surface of the bar. “They don’t like it, the door can hit them on the ass when they leave.” He didn’t really care if he was unapproachable, his role in the Bratva had built him to be that way and the only time he had seemed semi-approachable is when he feels like it will get him close to something for the family. He turned his head to look over at him, arching a brow at him. “Friends are overrated,” he smirked. The only person he would consider his friend is the man next to him but Zeph was also someone he would lay his life on line for in a heartbeat. “Not even one drink to ring in the New Year?”

The brash nature of Axel was almost exactly why Zephyr thought so much of the man - there had never been a day in the long years of their friendship where the other, and his sister, hadn’t made every effort to tell him the truth. Regardless of what it meant. Their careless, dangerous venture throughout the years had given him a best friend and a weapon all in one. “That you are, brother... that you fucking are.” The depth of his laugh almost far too natural a state for a place like this, but he didn’t mind all that much around the other. “I’m a little more interested in everything that happens after midnight, than saying goodbye to another year. Who needs another reminder that times ticking?”

where: alexei’s hotel suite​

who: @zephyrvrcnsky​

“I will,” Alexei spoke into the phone, his wife’s soft voice on the other end listing off the things she wanted him to remember to do and get. When he heard a knock on his door he lifted his head towards the other man in the room with him, a name he couldn’t quite recall, and told him to get it. “Call me later.” With that he hung up and walked over to the bar located in the corner, the sound of footsteps, this time a pair, headed in his direction. “Zephyr,” he greeted pouring into two glasses and not hesitating to empty out the contents of his in a moment. “How are things?” he asked the question appeared vague but held the weight of exactly what he meant through tone.

“Did you read that on a tourist’s keychain?” She volleys back while deliberately relegating her gaze to his face, a singular brow raising with coy expectation. Much of their affection stills remains behind closed doors and out of the public eye by design, it’s the only sanctity they can provide each other in an otherwise thoughtless world. Yet tonight she allows one palm to curve around the nape of his neck, silent reassurance of her presence and safety. “And you’re wise enough to never pick one with me,” Sera muses as dark hues follow the figure of Dilara Özdemir crossing the room some distance away. Always watchful, never fully allowing her guard to drop. “Smart man.” Another image captures the woman’s attention before she leans to whisper against his ear, “Unless my eyes deceive me, I think Vasili brought a date.”

“Fortune cookie, actually.” It’s spoken almost matter-of-factly, his hand tightening ever so slightly at her side as she melds into him as if they were physically a single being, just as their minds seemed to be. Truly, he hadn’t ever sought out any kind of conflict for the woman he loved, had never really felt the need to. Generally speaking, she held far more fire within her than he ever did. “Foolish has never really been one of my more memorable traits, and anyone would have to be a fool to take you on, Sera.” He’s mapped out the room, and it’s almost instinctive to know where her eyes land. The art of observation had yet to fail him, even now. “He has. You know who she is, don’t you? She’s one of Marino’s kids.” 

Axel rolled his eyes at his words when his best friend told him he should smile more. “The last thing I want is people to think I’m approachable.” He muttered. He lifted his glass up off the surface of the bar and taking a long sip. “I don’t need friends, Zeph.” Plus the last time he tried to get to know someone new it turned out she was a sworn enemy of what he stood for. “What are you drinking tonight?”

“With a dazzling personality like that, I doubt they’d ever actually think that.” Zeph laughed, a short, brash sound that went hand in hand with never once knowing his best friend to be something close to approachable and perhaps, coming from him, that meant something. “Obviously, I can’t imagine anyone you’d actively make friends with would be all too sound of mind.” And between the two of them, he believed they had that covered. “I’m not, but don’t stop on my behalf.”

It went without saying that before Ryan had even stepped over the threshold of the large gold doors that lead to the ballroom, but a few feet behind Diana Vronsky, there was an unsettling feeling that welled deep within his gut. And if there was anything he trusted it was his gut instinct, beyond all else. Not once had it failed him and while he could only hope it was misguided this once, the former Navy Seal knew better than to believe otherwise. After some time watching his charge go about socializing with various familiar faces, the male stepped away from the woman to approach her brother and the head of the Bratva. “Apologies, was not my intention to linger.“ He returned, retracting his hand from the chair as his gaze briefly met Zephyr’s. “I don’t mean to alarm you, but I suggest you stick close to your security tonight. Something’s up…”

It was one thing that Zephyr could never get used to - regardless of how long he held the position he had, or worked towards it. The niceties that the hierarchy offered were beyond him, he neither cared, nor wanted any of it. Where his father had once carried it with a certain regality, he regarded it as another reason to separate himself from all those within the Bratva - and he’d never wanted that. “Relax, Marshall.” He huffed, almost amused by the former seal’s reaction, azure hues relegating his sisters guard with a certain passive nature that didn’t seek to turn Ryan away. “Something’s always up, it’s Chicago.” The corner of his mouth turned up slightly, though a heady sigh pressed his lips. “You don’t have to worry about alarming me though, we have contingencies for a reason. You just keep an eye on Diana and we’ll get through the night.”

Mingling at these sorts of events is almost second nature now, a carefully constructed persona that she dons whenever needed. Sera’s mask is foolproof, painted just so and easily worn for hours at a time–– days, even. Shrewd and powerful, yet somehow easier to swallow than the vast majority simply because she finds it more advantageous to strike from behind poised charm. Snakes smile before they bite, after all. “In all my years, I’ve never seen you back down so quickly,” she questions his immediate surrender with idle amusement trailing along her lips. “Should I be more concerned that you’re sick or becoming conflict avoidant?”

The harmless taunt that frees itself from his wife’s lips is one that he knows he’ll never tire of hearing. Conflict was one thing, but the comfort of Sera is something that Zephyr would never stop fighting for, whether it paved itself with obvious intention or not. “Happy wife, happy life.” He murmured, taking the seat now without second thought, only to pull her gently towards him until she perched his lap. “I’m neither sick nor avoidant, I just know which battles to pick, clearly.”