Thread: Bright Young Thing ::: {Prince of Smut & Ariamella}

RE Bright Young Thing Prince Ariamella IMG200x112 Brian Grady Brian had finished two full glasses of wine by the time Phillip was ready to wind down the conversation. The alcohol had warmed his body and a pleasant buzz had set in, just the start of where he'd be within an hour after he dipped into his personal stash of confiscated whiskey as soon as he got home. Finishing the conversation was proving difficult for Brian as Phillip was rambling and all Brian could think of was his future political career with the lovely Scarlett by his side. I'd like to thank most of all, my beautiful wife Scarlett. The mother of our three children. Without her tireless support by my side, none of this could have happened. I know you all elected me as Senator, but really, you elected the both of us! Thank you! Brian was startled out of his fantasy acceptance speech by the realization that Phillip had stood and seemed ready to end the night. The blonde haired agent hastily took a last swig to empty his wine glass and rose to join the judge in heading towards the front door. A shattering noise made both of them quicken their pace and Brian was surprised to find Scarlett in the hall, a book in one hand and a broken vase on the ground next to her. He was a little too buzzed to even realize the scene was a bit odd, his eyes instead drinking Scarlett's sexy figure as greedily as he had quaffed the wine. The fresh context of her being his future wife making him appraise her every curve with new pride. Damn, she was truly beautiful. If Brian wasn't careful, he was feeling good enough from the wine to say or do something truly stupid or embarrassing. It took all his mental concentration to not leer at her and keep his eyes above her neckline. At least Scarlett's orbs as she batted them so sweetly at her father were beguiling enough to hold his gaze. Ahh would appreciate that very much, Scah-lett, Brian replied smoothly, heart skipping at Phillip's invitation to spend time with his daughter alone. The old judge didn't wast time, did he? Brian liked that. Three days from now sounds perfect. I'll call you the day of for the details. A firm handshake with the old man followed and then a gentlemanly kiss on the back of Scarlett's hand, with a wink that only she could see to show her he was playing it up for her dad. And then he was out in the cool night, smile on his face and looking at the expansive grounds of the mansion with a coolly appraising eye. It didn't looks so intimidating anymore. After all, some day, this all would be his. IMG150x112 Lucca Carbone Any sign of her, Skinny? ask Lucca as he entered the speakeasy. His fat lieutenant was sitting at the bar eating a bowl of pasta with a napkin tucked into his shirt. No boss. I gave her description out two days ago to all the managers in the area, replied Skinny after hurriedly swallowing the mouthful of food he'd been chewing on. There was a newspaper on the counter in front of him and he held it up for Lefty to see. Boss, you made the front page again! This edition just came out. It's got a pic of you from this morning donating all the food to the orphanage on Wacker. The headline is 'Gangster with a heart, or heartless gangster?' And a nice picture of you too! Lucca's blue eyes flicked over the front page, the headline photo showed him surrounded by children while posing in front of van packed full of boxes of food. It was a good picture, actually, which was rare as he felt the press always chose a bad angle when printing photos of him. Of course, they had to ruin the moment by branding him a gangster in what was otherwise a perfect opportunity to rehabilitate his image. He took pains to always point out to reporters that he was an Italian American businessman, the owner of a number of successful restaurants, grocers, and ethnic delis, as well as the head of a thriving import-export firm. Sadly in today's racist world, successful Italians were viewed as criminals. That was his line at least. Fucking reporters. Always have to ruin a good thing by making me out to be a criminal, Lucca grumbled as he walked towards his private office in the back. This particular speakeasy was in the heart of the loop. A prime location surrounded by upscale hotels, restaurants and music clubs. It was relatively small, but one of his nicest joints and designed for high-end customers. Skinny rose and followed his boss into the office, napkin still hanging from his collar. Lucca sat down and eyed his Lieutenant with a thoughtful look. De'Angelo sent me a message and said he'd come by around 6pm. He wants to talk about a truce, a formal negoziati . I think we've hit him hard and he knows we are going to win. He probably just wants to angle for the best concessions before he joins with Al's gang and we'll soon have another forty blocks of territory. He's a snake, an untrustworthy furfante that sleeps with the Irish. I wouldn't trust him and I say you tell him you don't want to talk, he has to surrender on our terms or the war continues, replied Skinny with no hesitation. I can't turn down a negoziati . Let's see what he has to say. I agreed that I'd only have two men in the club with me, besides the bouncer. I want you of course. Pick someone else and let the other boys know to wait down the block, said Lefty, waving at Skinny in dismissal. Oh, and find me that girl Ruby... Skinny was nodding as he left, a sour expression on his face again. Lefty knew his infatuation with the mysterious redhead was likely seen as a silly obsession by his men, not that any would say anything to his face. They'd all seen the kind of dolls that threw themselves at Lefty every night and probably were wondering why their Boss seemed to have it so bad for this particular broad. To be honest, Lefty wasn't exactly sure why he cared so much either, but the likely reason was too strange to admit. Sure, Ruby was a pretty doll. The red hair was striking, her eyes magnetic, and her figure was an eyeful, but there was more to her appeal to Lefty than her looks. Lefty had also sensed that she was an upper class broad, from the good side of the tracks. But even that wasn't what was making her pop into his head at the oddest times. It was her parlor trick with the dice and then the warning she'd given him about the raid. Lefty wasn't the superstitious type, but every Italian knew there were greater powers out there that you had to respect. If she could do what she claimed, predict the future and stack the odds in his favor, well, in Lefty's line of work that was a level of insurance that was worth a fortune. Of course, no one would believe him and even admitting what he say might make people spread rumors that he'd lost his marbles. No, he'd have to tread carefully in finding the truth about Ruby's abilities. If what he saw was real, though, the girl was a potential goldmine. He would have to find a way to get her help. And it didn't hurt that she wasn't hard on the eyes in the event they needed to spend some time together...