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Ivonne Abner

"It's all just business."

0 · 395 views · located in New York

a character in “No Looking Back”, as played by rubytuesday

Description

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I V O N N E . A B N E R
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and i've grown familiar with villains that live in my head. they beg me to write them so i'll never die when i'm dead
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control

comfortably numb

hold me down


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N A M E
Ivonne Adaline abner

A G E
twenty eight

D A T E . O F . B I R T H
19th of May

G E N D E R
female

S E X U A L . O R I E N T A T I O N
bisexual | panromantic

D I A L O G U E . & . T H O U G H T . C O L O R S
dialogue; #4c4c4c | thought; #bebebe
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L I K E S
Ivonne isn't the sort to openly gush over the sources of her pleasure; she treats things that gift her with joy in a softer manner, with small smiles and tender expressions. Nothing allures her more than the potential of an intelligent conversation, for she enjoys debate, and likes to be kept on her toes when in a verbal spar. Dreary discussion of weather and the like are quick to bore her, and she has little patience for false pretension. She prefers the cooler seasons, the likes of autumn and winter as opposed to summer and spring. Perhaps this is because of her predilection for reefers, blazers, and trench coats, as opposed the the typical camisoles and tees more suited to hot weather. She has a proclivity for drinking, despite her air always seeming so pointedly sober, and a penchant for flowers, wild and growing, as opposed to plucked. Whilst she is hardly skilled at carrying on a long-term relationship, Ivonne is certainly fond of the physical side of love and lust, from sex to make out sessions. She adores reading, and oft can be found nibbling on a piece of licorice while she does so.

D I S L I K E S
Ivonne isn't the most patient of souls, and is also a tad judgmental. Albeit good at handling her dislike, folding it away behind a charming smile and faux interest, in reality, she is quick to feel disdain. She is particularly impatient around those displaying sexism, racism, homophobia, or ignorance (the latter of which tends to apply to all of the former), especially when the people with such skewed views are surrounded by an air of pretension. She hates being bored, and prefers more calm, quiet environments to rambunctious surroundings. A creature of immense pride, Ivonne hates feeling weak or inferior, nor does she particularly like losing or being wrong.

F E A R S
death is an inevitable thing, and thus it is rather commonplace as a fear. Ivonne has no intention nor desire to die before her time, and plans on doing whatever necessary to keep herself around until said time, even in her rather dangerous business. Ivonne also gets claustrophobic, and experiences panic when trapped in confined spaces. Although it isn't debilitating, she still personally prefers stairs to lifts, albeit nevertheless taking the lift for the sake of image and time.

S K I L L S
Ivonne has always been a being of language. She is a charismatic creature; one that is able to carry on conversations and soothe arguments. She is an excellent businesswoman, and an intellectual. Having learnt from a young age, Ivonne is also a fine shot when it comes to shooting, and skilled in hand-to-hand combat, although she prefers not to get her hands dirty, or avoid conflict altogether. She is a fine liar and a pro when it comes to reading people.

W E A K N E S S E S
whilst she does know self-defense, Ivonne is not particularly strong, physically, which stunts her ability slightly. She is jaded to the point of being cold, and isn't very good at displaying emotions. She is stubborn, prideful, and distrustful, and can be scarily vindictive when wronged.

Q U I R K S . A N D . O D D I T I E S
β€’ has a small, crescent-shaped scar on the small of her back from falling out of a tree when she was seven β€’ is allergic to shrimp β€’ never paints her nails β€’ has three piercings in each ear β€’ wears rings a lot β€’ she gets scarily competitive in board games β€’ excellent at holding her drink β€’ has a slight Austrian accent in some of her words β€’
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P E R S O N A L I T Y
Ivonne is a woman that dabbles in a multitude of roles, and only half the time is legitimate in the part she's playing. She is a smooth talker, a creature whose words sail from her lips with astounding tact, and artful fluidity. She can spin a lie as easily as Rumpelstiltskin can spin gold, and is a master maintaining her composure even in the most pressing situations. When stress hits her, or the company she is in begins to invoke feelings of disdain, and chagrin, she easily places upon herself a facade of serenity. In fact, she can sometimes seem so sangfroid that it's frightening, and one might wonder if she truly feels anything at all. But she does, and she hates it.

She reads people as easily as she does the books she devours so ravenously, and can always deduce their desires, and their moods. This is yet another factor of her being that makes her such an excellent businesswoman; she is able to find the perfect words to get people to alter their decisions, and shift their views. Basically, she has a knack when it comes to manipulation.

This all being said, outside of business, Ivonne can be rather enjoyable company, and an expert when it comes to dolling out advice and 'tough love'. She's a cynic, jaded in a way that has made her trust far harder to come by, but she is also fiercely loyal, and adamant when it comes to protecting those she cares about. Whilst she always carries a composed manner when facing clients and those involved in business, her genteel air tends to fade when with her friends. She becomes more rugged and callous, more open to laughter and wit.

Speaking of, her wit is truly an impressive thing. She is remarkably intelligent, both academically and in acuity, and she channels this through her way of speaking. She enjoys badinage and banter, and is seldom without a clever quip or sarcastic reply. She has a good sense of humor, and even in her most composed of moments, enjoys to break tension with laughter.

Confident and calculating, Ivonne has a knack for making even the most bold of statements seem completely rational. Her knack for saying things with the utmost conviction makes even the most ridiculous of her remarks difficult to doubt. She is somehow both brutally honest and tactful, with a tendency to tell even the most blunt of truths, but in such a charming way that people tend to wind up confused. They ponder to themselves, 'was that a compliment or an insult?' and then wind up realizing that it was in fact, the latter.

She is strong-willed and stubborn, excellent at making compromises with others but only so-so when it comes to herself, and rather prideful. She despises looking weak or inferior in any manner, and is quick to turn on the offensive (or in her case, passive-aggressive as hell) when faced with such a situation.
She is also quite a flirtatious woman, blessed with both captivating good looks and the ability to spill out evocative words. Tis a shame that, for all her advice she dolls out, and all the casual romances she involves herself in, she can never quite manage to open her heart completely, because that requires far more than mutual attraction; it requires Ivonne to make herself vulnerable. To lay her emotions in front of her and pray they don't get damaged. And that is something she's not just bad at, it's something she's afraid of.
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H I S T O R Y
Ivonne was spoiled rotten in her youth, and grew up under the same cloak that draped over the Family. Her father, Dieter Abner had served the previous Boss as Consigliere, and had been the man's most trusted confidante, and most beloved friend. Her mother, Eliza Abner (maiden name; Fox) passed away when Ivonne was only six; consuming an overdose of pills after a long and silent battle with clinical depression. As a result, Ivonne became extremely close to her father, and he cherished her deeply. But being a part of the mob comes with its risks, and even a man as brilliant as Dieter Abner could not dodge a speeding bullet. He was killed alongside his best friend and the Boss of the mob. Since then, Ivonne has become the Consigliere, stepping into her father's shoes and becoming seemingly colder with each passing day.
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So begins...

Ivonne Abner's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cora Shelby Character Portrait: Katalina Winters Character Portrait: Elena De Rossi Character Portrait: Wyatt Hagen Character Portrait: Ivonne Abner Character Portrait: Zachary Reynolds Character Portrait: Adrian De Rossi Character Portrait: Danny Marks
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Two years ago, Danny had never gone by a nickname. His parents had named him Daniel. Not 'D', not 'Dan', not 'Danny'. Daniel was the name on his birth certificate, his social security card, his badge...Daniel. But none of those things existed anymore. Oh they were somewhere, he was sure, under a red label that claimed 'confidential'...but not real. Not tangible. Not something he could pull at and look at.

To be fair, Danny wasn't on anything he could pull out and look at either. It was just...something he could feel. Something he could relate to every time he heard Cora call it down the hall, or when Wyatt gave him an acknowledged nod before work, or when Frank whispered it somewhere near his ear...

Danny sighed and brought his cigarette up to his lips. He could remember Daniel Lynn...but he could hardly see him anymore. He wasn't in the mirror staring back at him, that was for sure. Daniel Lynn was turning into a memory...and Danny was both ready to be free of him, and terrified to see him go.

It was all very confusing.

Kind of like these damned parties.

Danny opened his mouth and let smoke fall out of it, watching the party around him come back into view full force. Diavolo de Rossi looked spectacular as always, done up in beautiful reds and golds, the sign out front claiming they were having some kind of fancy charity event. Inside, however, the people weren't just rich and famous...they were also dangerous.

The waitstaff was mostly made up from kids in his building, the ones on the second to the top floor. Not good enough to play with the big boys, but smart enough to keep their mouths shut. They were too busy to overhear anything important anyway...well, except for Cora, who he could pick out of the crowd only because he knew her. She seemed just as busy as the other servers in their professional black dresses, but Danny had learned to watch her, really watch her. She was eavesdropping, listening into the conversations the other Family members couldn't.

Zack was also a top-flooer blending in with the staff himself, his unruly curls tamed back for the night, his fingers moving quickly over the drinks he passed out. Danny could only catch them occasionally, the little packets of drugs, the secret exchange of smiles and nods. Zack was good, even for Danny's trained eye. Very good.

Kitty was there too, a knock-out even compared to the other women who were hanging onto their husbands (sugar daddies?) arms. She looked fantastic, in her element, hard at work. She knew things too, heard things even Cora didn't, because she spent her time surrounded by yes-men...and Danny was sure all she had to do was bat her lashes to earn a handful of secrets.

He took another drag of his cigarette.

Elena and Adrain De Rossi were socializing with every bit of grace they'd been born with, dressed in clothing so expensive he was sure it would pay his rent three times over (not that he was paying his own rent, really. The services he provided the Family covered that expense). On the other side of the room, Ivonne was doing the same, a champagne glass held elegantly in her hand, expression blank as usual, gaze ever vigilant. Looking at them, one wouldn't ever expect something was wrong.

Then there was Wyatt, always close to Francis, even surrounded by people they called Friends. Granted, Danny knew better. For one thing, Frank was ever paranoid, for another...these parties were rarely what they appeared to be. Danny had only been to two himself, but he recognized a recon operation when he saw one. This time he was at least somewhat in the know. He'd earned some trust, finally.

Money was missing. Large sums of it, siphoned out slowly from the Family budget for the last couple of months, at least. It was sloppy work, which meant it hadn't been someone in the inner circle, but one of the soldiers out on the street everyday. Probably some idiot who had stumbled onto numbers he wasn't supposed to have. But they hadn't been able to lock down which division the leak had come from. Sex, Drugs, Weapons, so on, so forth.

Thus, the party.

It was a game of politics, manners, and skill.

Danny finished off his cigarette and snuffed it out in the ash trey next to him, his eyes following his mark diligently. Sebastian Olivarez. Danny recognized him not only from the folder Wyatt had handed him earlier that week, but also from police reports...although the former was much more detailed. Drug Lord, low level, fairly new to the game. Worked down in the Bronx. Armani suit, but a little ill fitting. Danny swiped a whiskey glass off one of the trays going around, took a large gulp of it, then rounded the corner

He pressed two fingers to his forehead in a salute around his glass when they touched, and Olivarez gave him a respectful nod in return.

Danny deposited the glass on another floating tray then looked at the phone he'd just snagged from Olivarez's coat pocket. Blackberry, password protected. No problem, just mildly annoying for now. He caught Frank's eye when he looked up, grinned and sent a wink his way, then disappeared into one of the backrooms to drop the phone in the collection of mobiles, planners, tablets, and anything else he'd gotten his hands on in the last ten minutes.

His job was simple: steal, look, return. It'd been a little tricky at first, but the more rounds Zack and the alcohol made, the more susceptible people were. Not to mention, it was quick work. Most of the electronics were uninteresting, because the smart mobsters didn't keep private information on hackable devices. Then again, smart mobsters also didn't steal form their bosses, so there was that.

Danny plopped himself down on one of the sitting sofa's, threw his feet up on the coffee table, and sat to work undoing the password. He wasn't a hacker by trade, but he'd picked up a few skills over the last couple of months, and he was sure it wouldn't take him long.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cora Shelby Character Portrait: Katalina Winters Character Portrait: Elena De Rossi Character Portrait: Wyatt Hagen Character Portrait: Ivonne Abner Character Portrait: Zachary Reynolds Character Portrait: Adrian De Rossi Character Portrait: Danny Marks
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IVONNE ABNER
attire; x XXXmood; self-assured


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"You must understand that I only want what's best for..." The man's hands fumbled against each other, and his tongue flickered over his wet lips every time he took a pause in his overly deliberated sentences. "... I would hate for a silly rumor to impair not just my reputation, but our relationship..." He was excessively groomed, with trimmed nails, glowing teeth, and white hair waxed and sprayed to the point of looking like plastic. "... It's all a misunderstanding, of course..."

His name was Chancellor Bevon Willcox, and his expression was saturated with stress as he searched for more to say. The 'silly rumor' was concerning a grim-fated concoction of him, his secretary, and an excessive amount of unwanted touching. A 'misunderstanding', indeed.

"It would certainly be mutually beneficial for you to-" "How so?" He was clearly unsettled by the woman's sudden reply, and his slackened jaw moved up and down as he gaped for words. "I don't really know what you mean-" "I mean, how will it be mutually beneficial?"

The woman took a sip of her wine, a matter-of-fact expression on her face. "As far as I can tell, the only one that benefits is you. The man that sexually harassed an employee and then began sputtering excuses when he got reprimanded for it."

The chancellor reddened, and his jaw once again began gaping. "I- I said it was a misunderstanding! Y- You must understa-" "You must understand, Chancellor, that among our 'ranks', we employ corrupt policemen, drug dealers, arms dealers, and prostitutes,"

Her smile was soft, and almost solicitous. "But even we have standards."

His eyes widened in shock, his rubber lips forming an 'o', and she retained her smile, and bobbed her head softly. "Enjoy the party."

She moved swiftly past him, and in afterthought, added over her shoulder, "I doubt you'll be attending another one."

Ivonne moved to a spare space in the room, taking a sip of wine as she metaphorically caught her breath. It was supposedly a party, but all Ivonne could see was an ocean of business transactions. A commerce of gossip and secrets. It was at parties like these that some of the most important decisions were made, where 'familial' bonds were strengthened, and others were cut. Ivonne brought the glass to her lips, analyzing the crowd as she waited for yet another pig-brained politician with some self-caused problem to come to her, claiming innocence.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ivonne Abner Character Portrait: Adrian De Rossi
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οΌ‘ο½„ο½’ο½‰ο½ο½Ž οΌ€ο½… Rossi
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The dining hall was dusky and dimly-lit, decorated in muted maroon and gold; damask patterned drapes hung over tall floor to ceiling windows. and impractical white table linen covered each of the round tables. Of course these were New York's most couth citizenry so not a drop would be spilled. These were people able to identify by name each of the dozen of utensils by their plates and use them correctly. The food was just as opulent as the decor and one might as well have plucked a glittering crystal from one of the chandeliers and swallowed it whole for the cost.

At the current moment Adrian sat in isolation of any conversation or company of interest to him. A double dose of Adderall and Ritalin washed down with a shot of espresso still wasn't making him want to engage. But engage he did because those were his older brother's orders. He showed just the right amount of attentiveness, giving signs of acknowledgment when needed, but he was listening in on every conversation around him as much as his own.

His eyes wandered from his table, checking how everyone else in their close circle was doing at their little 'party'. Danny had been set with the task of lifting the personal items off their guests and checking them out and Adrian periodically searched for him. He had worked months for them and was now caught in the orbit of their small nucleus. This would be one of his first big tasks and Adrian was curious to figure out if he lived up to Wyatt and his brother's expectations. He could see his lank figure now slinking towards the bathroom almost wholly unnoticed.

Adrian took this opportunity to excuse himself from his current conversation. "Mr. Willcox, I don't mean for this to be rude, but I don't defend obviously guilty clients; bad for business. Maybe next time on your employee contract you should include all the duties you wish them to perform or hire someone outside for that particular task. There are services for that, you know.. Enjoy the rest of the party." He flashed a pearly smile before promptly leaving the waxen politician. He weaved his way through the crowd towards the bathroom he saw Danny enter; that was until his eyes caught Ivonne retreating from the crowd as well. The corner of his mouth turned up and he was sidetracked towards the Consigliere's direction instead.

He snuck up on her from the side coming fairly close to her before he spoke up to grab her attention. "That dress matches the table cloths perfectly; you blended right in until you moved." he said tugging at a bit of the superfluous fabric that hung off the sides of her otherwise fitted dress.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ivonne Abner Character Portrait: Adrian De Rossi
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IVONNE ABNER
attire; x XXXmood; peeved


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"That dress matches the table cloths perfectly; you blended right in until you moved." He was beside her, lingering at the edge of her gaze, but she didn't need to see him to know who he was. His voice was recognizable, smooth and persuasive and far deeper than it had been during their childhood days, but she didn't need to that to identify him, either. His scent was enough. The sharp and piquant smell of his expensive cologne alerted her immediately to his person, and, despite said cologne's lovely fragrance, she felt a glower threatening her serene features.

Without turning to face him, she smiled casually, "That was the idea. Camouflage is an effective way to avoid unwanted attention." She looked at him pointedly, smile thinning slightly. "Obviously, it didn't quite have the effect I was hoping for."

Truth be told, Ivonne didn't hate Adrian De Rossi. In fact, she was rather fond of him in an odd sense. His place in her heart was a contradiction in and of itself. He annoyed her to no end with his ability to seemingly read her mind and his knack for provoking emotion in an exterior that she took pride in keeping utterly placid. And yet, she could not deny the small part of her that enjoyed the feeling of her unperturbed facade fracturing. It was odd, something she felt seldom, but it was a good pain.

He confused her occasionally, but mostly, he just pissed her off.

Because as a woman of extensive knowledge, she was cognizant of an infinity of facts and figures, and there was one in particular that purely concerned the De Rossi lawyer.

Adrian De Rossi is a total prat.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Katalina Winters Character Portrait: Elena De Rossi Character Portrait: Wyatt Hagen Character Portrait: Francis De Rossi Character Portrait: Ivonne Abner Character Portrait: Zachary Reynolds Character Portrait: Adrian De Rossi
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Katalina loved when the De Rossi's threw parties. Granted, it wasn't exactly a night off for her. Quite the opposite, parties were actually some of her busiest working nights, but she still enjoyed them. It was like open season for her to prey on the boozed up men. All she had to do was find the ones who had had too much to drink, or had taken one too many pills, bat her eyelashes, pull them into one of the lounge rooms in the back of the restaurant, and convince them to pay double, sometimes even triple the normal rates. It was a cycle she repeated all night long, making more money for the Madam in one night then she could in a whole week. It was a lot of work, as any of the escorts could tell you, but it paid off well. If you were good, and Kitty was exceptional, Elena would reward you richly the next day.

Plus, parties were an excuse to get dressed up and be seen. She loved wearing all the pretty things Adrian De Rossi always bought her. It made all the other escorts jealous. In fact, most of the other girls wouldn't even speak to her because she was several levels ahead of them and they hated it. They couldn't stand that she was not only Adrian De Rossi's favorite, but Wyatt's as well. Hell, even the Boss himself, Frank, sometimes took her out on his arm when he needed a little something pretty to impress his associates. She was at the top of the pack when it came to the escorts and she intended to keep herself that way. Being the favorite meant she was allowed certain privileges the others did not have.

She knew intimate details about the De Rossi family operations that many of the other runaways would probably never know, just because she knew how to charm the most important people in the room in all the right ways. She knew that the party wasn't simply a party. It was about secrets, information, and alliances. It was her job to work the men, weaken them, so to speak. They may not be naive enough to tell her their most intimate secrets directly, but it was much easier to get what you wanted to know out of a man after he'd had several drinks and been pleased by a beautiful woman. Then it was up to people like Adrian, Ivonne, and Elena, who knew how to outwit, to extract the information the wanted.

Kitty was wearing some of Adrian's latest gifts: A designer dress that hugged her body, tall heels that accentuated her long legs, and even a flowery perfume that attracted men like they were honeybees. The night had only just begun, and already, her small clutch was so full of money, she'd have to hand it off to Elena soon. She's just come out of one of the dark, empty rooms where smaller, private parties were sometimes held and where Kitty did most of her "work" when she was at large events like the one that was currently taking place. It hadn't taken very long. It never did really, not at parties where she had more then one man to deal with throughout the night.

The man she'd just spent the last twenty or so minutes pleasing was some politician. He was married, but then, so were a lot of her clients, it never really phased her much. Hell, some of the men she was with would hire her with their wife in the other room enjoying the party obliviously. They ignored each other as he passed her in the hall and made his way back towards the party. She, however, ducked into the ladies room first instead. Inside, the room was rather lavish, as the whole building was and there were several women at the mirror fixing their make up or hair, some of them wives or girlfriends of the men at the party, real high-society women, some of them girls like her.

She went over to the mirror and stood between the two different groups that talked as they groomed themselves. Neither spoke to her, as she knew they wouldn't. The high-society girls tended to see her as trash, while the other escorts were hatefully envious of her slightly elevated status. As such, she had few female friends. Kitty just ignored them and did what she'd gone there to do. Fix her bright red lipstick, and quickly snort a few lines of cocaine given to her by Zack, earlier in the day. Being high always made her job considerably easier, and coke was one of her favorite drugs.

She came up with a deep sigh of satisfaction, rubbing the side of her nose before slipping the rest of her drugs back into her purse, and heading back out the door. This time, she made her way all the way down the hall and around the corner to where the party was being held. Her eyes danced around the room a little, looking for one of the serving trays before finally spotting one and moving through the crowd. Kitty grabbed a glass, not really caring what it was, before making her way towards the edge of the room so she could sip it quietly and observe the guests, eyes searching for her next possible client. It was going to be a long night. She almost wished she could just enjoy the party for what it appeared to be instead of spend the whole night working.






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Elena had so much work to do. Sure, she was at a party where, theoretically, she should be able to just relax, do some drinking, and then maybe take a charming man home with her, but she couldn't. There was too much to be done. There was always too much to be done in Elena's life. Very rarely, did she ever have time to simply relax and enjoy herself. She was a workaholic after all. Everything in her operation had to run flawlessly or all hell broke loose. Before the party, she'd gathered her girls together just to give them another quick rundown of the rules they all knew by heart, simply because she enjoyed order so much. If the night was to be successful for her, her girls best not break any rules. Doing so would invoke her wrath, and that was something no one wanted aimed at them.

So Elena was far to busy to simply enjoy the party. Most of her attentions were devoted to her girls. She kept her eyes on them carefully, watching them. Part of the reason was to make sure they were all doing their jobs, but another large part of the reason was to make sure they were all okay. It wasn't uncommon for a much too intoxicated man to treat one of her girls poorly. In that case, Elena had to make quick arrangements to have him ejected from the party. It was very important to her that none of her girls be made uncomfortable or forced into anything they didn't want. All of her girls worked for her by choice, not by obligation, and they were grateful for her protection, making them very loyal and easy to work with, unlike some pimps who constantly had to punish their girls.

Other then keeping an eye on her girls, however, Elena was also responsible for engaging with the guests. She had to charm them, dazzle them like she always did. Not only to get them interested in hiring one of her girls, but also to extract their secrets from them. It wasn't so hard really. Especially not after one of her escorts had been with them. All it took was a little cleverness and men would tell her anything. They rarely saw her as a threat, seeing as she was a woman and the mob was typically a man's world. Elena hated it, but she couldn't help find it amusing as well. It was their mistake. The number of politicians and lawmen Elena could easily blackmail with the knowledge that they'd hired one of her girls was outrageous. No man wanted their wife, kids, or worse, the media, knowing that they'd been with a prostitute.

She was discreet, of course, she had to be or her clients wouldn't come back, but she did use the information to keep their loyalty, which, to the Family, was far more valuable then their money at times. She could get any man to do almost anything she wanted and they hardly even realized it. It was almost comical really, how dim they could be sometimes. She'd been spending the entire night gathering useful information from men too preoccupied with drinks, drugs, and sex too realize what they were giving up. Sure, she hadn't found anything to indicate who the culprit stealing the Family's money was just yet, but she had gotten more then enough useful information already and the night had really only just begun.

Elena was standing with a small group of men, laughing lightly at the jokes they made, speaking in a soft, only slightly cold tone, charm dripping from her words. One of her girls made her way over to her and Elena smiled and wrapped an arm around the small redhead's waist. "I was just talking about you Polly." She smiled and the girl smiled at the men, batting her lashes as she glanced between them. "Mr. Henry here wanted to meet you." She said, taking the girl's hand and placing it on the man's, doing her job for the thousandth time that night. After the two of them had slipped away, Elena excused herself and made her way towards the back of the room with a sigh. She needed a break. Typically, Elena wasn't a warm person. She was actually rather cold. It became tiresome to charm all night long. She sat at one of the tables and casually lit herself a cigarette, taking a deep inhale as she watched the party take place before her.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Katalina Winters Character Portrait: Elena De Rossi Character Portrait: Wyatt Hagen Character Portrait: Francis De Rossi Character Portrait: Ivonne Abner Character Portrait: Adrian De Rossi Character Portrait: Danny Marks
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Nights like these were both simultaneously enthralling and tedious, commonplace and nerve-wracking, and Frank knew not where the line between these extremes was drawn. There was something about these gatherings that made him feel the respect he had craved for so long as he worked to rebuild the business empire. It certainly appeared that way from the outside, for he had seated himself at a table that was now filled with senators and businessmen alike. Like a king surveying his kingdom, he gazed at the faces, glanced about the opulent room, and offered up jokes or comments when the time seemed right.

But he also felt like a spider, perhaps, what with his so many intricate pieces of the operation coming to together all at once, weaving together like the strands of a spider’s web. He could see his brother now as he moved towards Ivonne. Oh, she certainly looked uncomfortable, but there was little he could do from where he was. Instead, he focused on Elena now as she lit up her cigarette. Katalina had positioned herself in a corner too. Danny was making his way to the back room now, unfamiliar phone in his hand.

In a way, he envied their ability to blend into the crowd, to remove themselves from a situation. He, on the other hand, seemed to always find himself at a table such as this one, his neck breathed down by society’s brown-nosers. He certainly exaggerated to an extent, but Frank had a tendency towards that at times. Nevertheless, he did play the role well -- kept the drinks on the table and the spirits high. As his peers lost their inhibitions, Frank continued to nurse the same glass of wine, afraid to let himself off too easy this night. Not when there was so much to do.

He knew the procedure by heart now, and he ran over it in his head as he waited for Danny's signal -- which came in the form of a wink and grin. Frank couldn't help by smile back to himself, hoping that maybe Danny would pick up on his subtle acknowledgement.

"Something on your mind, Frank?" questioned a man across the table, forcing Frank back into the moment.

Francis shook his head suddenly, grabbing for his wine glass as he faced the man, New York’s governor, a man who most certainly had come all this way from Albany simply to join in the revelry. Few other places had so much to offer, and for β€œclean men” like the Governor, it was their only way to even get to the drugs without starting a scandal. ”Just thought of a story I’d heard,” he recovered quite smoothly, delving into a tale he made up on the spot. Perhaps that was one of his talents -- he knew how to catch himself, check his surroundings. It was why he had to keep his head on and couldn’t ride through the night on a cocktail of drugs and alcohol as he was certain a few of his cohorts would.

No, the only time he could was when he was in the comfort of his home. And even then, he knew he wasn’t safe there either. But now, he fished for a cigarette in his trousers’ pocket, and five businessmen extended their lighters as he nonchalantly held the cigarette out, letting them struggle to be β€œthe one who lit Frank De Rossi’s smoke.” There were others at the table who met him with a look of disgust, but they wouldn’t voice their opinions. He knew that they never would vocally.

The text from Danny to Wyatt would come at any moment, and he knew they’d have to be getting closer to finding the one. The rat. When the time came, he knew Wyatt would interject, and he’d leave the table. The men around him would have their suspicions, of course, but none of them had ever seen Frank in that state of mind. It certainly wasn’t something they hoped to experience. Until that text, however, he kept himself in the conversation, his eyes never lingering in one place for too long.