Unsettling Differences || potassiumboron and VanillaCola

Status
Not open for further replies.

Ramsay had been dragged out of the club fighting, along with his subordinates and the two Royals who had had the gall to confront him. Once the bouncers had gotten them a good distance from the club doors and the line of customers, they left the group to their own devices. No one was stupid enough to get in between two rival gangs, not even people as big as the club bouncers. All the better, Ramsay thought to himself. It was three on two, the Royals outnumbered for now. Ramsay didn't care about unfair advantages – he just wanted to kick someone's teeth in and have fun doing it. "Looks like it's you two versus us three," Ramsay called out, cracking his knuckles. "Want to talk shit now, huh?" He began to advance on the two Royals, both of whom were backing away slightly.

"Trust you to keep going when it's not a fair fight," one of the Royals spat, the two of them trying to look intimidating whilst glancing around for Alexander. He must have seen the fight, and with any luck would be coming out to even the odds.

"This ain't a boxing match, it's a brawl," Ramsay replied. "No rules here."

He lunged toward the closest Royal, taking the man off-guard with a swift hook to the face. Ramsay's gang joined in, one helping Ramsay out whilst the other tackled the second Royal. The Royals tried their best to fight back, but it was clear that they were outmatched by Ramsay and his gang. It wasn't just the numbers that were working in their favour. Ramsay was a brutal fighter, his punches and kicks landing with almost bone-shattering power and an untouchable intensity. Landing a flurry of rapid punches to the Royal's face, the rival came away bloody and bruised, falling to the floor in defeat. But that didn't mean he was finished, at least not in Ramsay's eyes. The gangster continued kicking and stomping on the Royal, grinning maniacally as he did. The Royals were cursing and shouting, and even Ramsay's friends were trying to get him to stop with a degree of reluctance, but he didn't care about any of them. The blood on his hands and clothes went unnoticed. All he cared about was making his enemies suffer – it was just unfortunate that the Royal curled up on the ground had become his target.

Alexander briskly made his way over to the fighting, eyes narrowed as he saw Ramsay beating down one of his men. The sight probably would have induced fear in most, but Alexander remained unfazed for the most part. He knew what Ramsay was capable of, and nothing could intimidate him now. If anything, Ramsay should have been the one who was afraid. Alexander had a lot more influence on his side, and Ramsay's act of violence against one of Alexander's own was just the incentive he needed to exact revenge. Alexander was about to speak up, but was interrupted by Valentino. He had heard someone following him, but hadn't thought it would be the young man. Looking over at Valentino, Alexander moved to the side, eager to see how this confrontation would go. Ramsay stopped attacking the downed Royal and snapped his head toward Valentino, that malevolent grin still firmly on his features. Strolling away from the Royals, Ramsay stalked toward Valentino, stopping just a few feet away from him.

Ramsay laughed. A roar of hysteria filled the air as he bellowed, in utter disbelief of Valentino's attitude and words. "Who are you calling a pig? I'm not the one 'rolling around in the gutters'. It's those pricks on the ground that are doing that." He gestured over to the Royals, who were only now getting up to their feet. Alexander looked over at them, scowling at their incompetence. "I can't believe you're running your big mouth again. Didn't you learn anything from my little visit?"

Once Alexander's gangsters had gotten to their feet – one of the struggling to stand and only just managing – he decided now was a good time to leave. If this was any other time, he would have taken on Ramsay himself. His gun was hidden away in his jacket pocket, and was ready to be used. But Valentino had complicated matters. Having the chief of police's son as witness to your crime was a sure way to end up with life in prison, and Alexander was smarter than to make such a brash move. So instead, he gestured for his men to leave the area, slowly following behind. But of course, he had to get a word in. "So sure of yourself, aren't you Dillon?" He called, shaking his head at Ramsay. "You've got enemies who are more powerful than you'll ever be, and you're clearly not as clever as you'd like to think if you step on their toes like this."

Ramsay turned to Alexander, a snarl on his face. His gangsters had joined his side, a little tired after brawling, but more than ready to take on Alexander if need be. "Who the fuck do you think you are? Go run your mouth and see how many stab wounds that wins you."

"Shut up and go home, Dillon. No one cares about your petty brawls," Alexander snapped back. He looked over at Valentino, knowing that he couldn't leave the young man alone in Ramsay's presence. "Valentino, why don't you leave this thug alone to wallow in the streets? He's so beneath you that he shouldn't even be allowed to breathe around you."

"Go on then," Ramsay told Valentino. "Run away with your boyfriend and go fuck yourselves. That's what you rich brats do anyway, isn't it? Waste all your money and screw yourselves over?" As much as Ramsay wished he could just take out Alexander there and then, he knew that now wasn't the right to time to do so. And Valentino was a pain in the ass just by being around Ramsay, so he was eager to get away from the rich boy. Backing away from Valentino, Ramsay smirked and chuckled. "See you around, piglet." He watched and waited for Valentino to head off with Alexander, Ramsay wondering how exactly the two of them knew each other. There was no doubt in his mind that Alexander was trying to manipulate Valentino, probably to gain some kind of police immunity out of him. But no one could ever be sure what Alexander's intentions were, and even Ramsay had to admit that he was a little anxious about that fact.​

​
 
If he was completely honest, he had hardly noticed the lingering presence of Alexander, or the inferences that he and Ramsay apparently knew each other, if their glares and insults had anything to go by. At least, Valentino didn't immediately notice, his attention completely set upon the looming figure that was Ramsay.

He may have been blissfully oblivious to Alexander's remaining presence, having thought he had wandered off, but one thing that was blatant and abundant in its existence was the brutal fighting taking place between Ramsay and the rival gang members. The fighting did shock Valentino - of course it did. Even for someone as wealthy as he was, from a world where this brutality was alien, this sort of fighting; the sort of murderous intent involved within every strong punch was shocking. It would be shocking to anyone, so for someone immune to it, it was hard to tear his eyes away from the sight unfolding in front of him.

Valentino realised he shouldn't even be witness to this. He was far above such behaviour; far too superior, surely, to witness something so lowly and common. Yet, here he was, dragged into the situation because of his knowledge over who Ramsay was, and his absolute inability to simply give the man the respect he apparently wanted by keeping his mouth shut. Instead, he continually and persistently insulted him and, in his opinion, defended himself. While he was alien to the surroundings he was enveloped in, there was no way he was going to stand back and feel threatened by it all. He was going to defend himself time and time again, regardless of how violent scenes around him became.

Hence why, the moment Ramsay approached and openly laughed in his face, he simply stood with a flat smile and a shrug. In truth, he would have responded with as much vehemence, if it wasn't for the eventual recognition of Alexander behind him. Glancing to his side to meet him, his drunken state wasn't enough to let his surprise show. He remained deadpan in the face of the surprise, his mind, however, working overtime to put in place various pieces floating about. After all, he was far from stupid, and in fact, he did tend to over analyse a lot of the time: a trait that usually put him in the wrong, accusing someone of something they weren't guilty of, but in this instance? He worked out the truth relatively simply.

Just his luck. The moment he meet someone he thought was a genuinely nice guy; a man of his calibre and his social standing who also happened to be rather on the handsome side, he was involved in criminality and illegality, spending his time, no doubt, in fighting verbally and physically with the low pieces of scum that were Ramsay and his gang.

No matter how wealthy, renowned and polished Alexander was, the fact he was involved in gang culture immediately marked him down to the same level as Ramsay. Just another little street rat, battling and fighting in the gutters for scraps.

"Call me a piglet again. I dare you, go on," came his eventual comment, having stayed silent far too long. While his expression hadn't let on to his inner revelation, the uncommon and lengthy moment of silence probably signalled that he had been working something out. Just what that was, however, he wanted to remain secret. He had enough on his plate dealing with Ramsay's hatred; he didn't want to provoke Alexander into hating him if he made it clear he knew who he was and what he did.

Playing everything normally before making his escape to forget all about the two men was the plan of action, however hard it was for him to leave the scene without another bout of bickering with Ramsay. It was quickly becoming his new favourite activity... mostly because he was just waiting for the time he could come out of an argument as the winner. So far, as much as it pained him to admit it, Ramsay could be declared as the winner each time they argued, mostly because of his physical strength and cunningness to worm his way into his apartment, while all Valentino had done was petulantly insult and criticise.

"I mean, all you do is threaten and intimidate, isn't it?" He continued flatly, refusing Alexander's offer of escaping with a simple shake of his head. "I get why you do, obviously. You don't scare me, nor are you ever going to. I'm honestly exasperated even dealing with you any further. Why don't you just punch me, get it over with, or are you afraid of me running to my father with evidence of your brutishness?"​
 

Ramsay had expected Valentino to stay quiet. After seeing what the gangster could do, and hearing the threats that he had made, Ramsay found it hard to believe that the rich brat would do anything except stay quiet and walk away. But instead, Valentino had made the mistake of letting out a snide remark, daring Ramsay to target him again. This time, Ramsay didn't laugh. Only a faint amused sound escaped him as he approached Valentino again, eyes narrowed and lips parted just slightly to bare his teeth. He let Valentino continue his tirade, making note of how he refused to go with Alexander for the moment. This kid was a special kind of idiot, Ramsay realised. One who really didn't know when to shut his mouth. As Valentino egged him on, Ramsay found it very tempting to do what the kid had dared him to. If he was being honest, it wasn't the idea of Valentino running off to his father that was stopping him from harming the kid. It was more the fact that Valentino would never be able to put on a good fight. Ramsay may have been vicious, but there was just no fun in fighting someone who couldn't stand up for themselves in a physical battle.

But Valentino was pushing Ramsay past that point. Grabbing the front of Valentino's shirt, Ramsay tugged the young man closer, close enough to get into his face. "All you do is talk," Ramsay snarled. "Do you think saying all of that is going to make me scared of you? Do you think I care about you running off to your dad? Your dad hasn't been able to do shit about me for years now, and you grassing me up to him isn't going to change that."

Whilst Ramsay kept a tight grip on Valentino, Alexander stood there, somewhat stunned. He knew that Ramsay could be brash, but for him to so quickly manhandle the son of the chief of police was something he hadn't expected the gang leader to do. Coming to his senses, Alexander went to grab Ramsay, but the gangster pushed Valentino to the floor and took a step back before Alexander could even get into his range. Turning his sights to Alexander, Ramsay continued to snarl. "Don't touch me," he told the other gang leader. "Put your hands on me and I'll kill you and your daddy."

Now it was Alexander's turn to glare. "Threaten my father again and you'll be the one who ends up dead."

Ramsay only laughed at that. Taking a few steps back, he looked between Alexander and Valentino, shaking his head as he smirked. "The piglet and the cock," he jested before spitting onto the floor. "You've been letting out the same sound every day, Fountier, and yet you still don't realise that no one's listening." Turning to his gangsters, Ramsay gestured for them to go. "Come on, let's get out of here. I've had enough of dealing with the farmyard animals." With that, Ramsay led his group away, heading back to the car that they had driven in. Alexander let the trio go, more focussed on Valentino and the words that Ramsay had said. Ramsay doesn't know what he's talking about, Alexander told himself, unwilling to be fazed by the other gangster.

Offering a hand to Valentino, Alexander helped the young man up from the ground. This wasn't how he had wanted to night to go, or at least how he wanted Valentino's initial impression of him to be. Ramsay may have just thrown a spanner in the works for Alexander, a thought that filled the gang leader with more resentment than he thought was ever possible. "Apologies for him. Though I imagine you already knew what he was like," Alexander began, trying to keep that cool air about him. "Did you have any friends you came to the club with? I assume staying with them would be better than going home alone – especially if you have to walk through a council estate like you said. I would offer to drive you home, but I don't suppose you want to stay around me any longer." Alexander had no problem with driving Valentino home, considering it would mean the boy's ensured safety. He may have been a gangster, but Alexander wasn't in the same league of madness as Ramsay was. Stooping so low was an insult to his family line and business, and Alexander would never do such a thing as to ruin his familial reputation. "Just get home safely," he told Valentino. "Ramsay won't hurt you yet, but the morons that follow him around might."​

​
 
If there was any doubt in the boy's head, any remnant of dubiousness, then the bitter and antagonistic altercations between the two men as Valentino watched from the ground did confirm his suspicions. Glaring vehemently at both men -one for shoving him to the ground and the other for feeling deceived by him-, the well-to-do chief's son attempted to push himself up from the ground until realising his hands were scraped and slightly bloody.

In truth, it was hardly a huge injury. A few scrapes and scratches was all, but for someone who had never really suffered any sort of injury thanks to his naturally cautious nature, the sight of his palms cut from the concrete and smashed bottles on the pavement was enough to cause him a mixture of anger, fury and upset. This was just brilliant.

So, despite his current disgust with Alexander, he did gratefully accept the help up with an automatic smile. A smile that did disappear the moment he was on his feet and safe from another attack, verbal or physical, from Ramsay. When he was certain that he was safe and secure, he pushed himself from the man with a disinterested huff, arms folding and eyebrow raised expectantly.

He had been sure that, once it became clear both parties realised that the truth had come out, Alexander would offer up an apology of sorts, or declare the truth to Valentino simply to clear up any confusion. When that didn't come, the student muttered a rare cuss under his breath. What did he expect from a criminal? Of course he wouldn't apologise. They were all utterly detestable, regardless of supposed class.

"I don't think you realise that I'm not some idiot. I do think you've done me an injustice in underestimating me, Alexander. I know what you are, and what you do now, it's all rather obvious," he began flatly. Ramsay was at least right about something - Valentino didn't know when to quit, although frankly, he didn't care for quitting. If he had something to say, in spite of potential consequences, he was going to say it.

"So, what was the purpose in engaging me in conversation? When you realised who I was, I assume you were going to use me in your games, like some pawn. Or you thought befriending me would benefit you. I can't imagine you genuinely wanting to be my friend in any such way. Your criminals. There's always some ulterior motive, isn't there?" He scathingly laughed, brightly and blatantly at the other's expense, even if he was bubbling angrily under the surface, behind all the comical bravado. That anger did eventually reach the surface, fists clenched at his sides and a scowl finally approaching his lips. "I don't appreciate being used, I do hope you realise that, Alexander. I don't like to keep the company of criminals either. However similar you are to me in status, you're still a criminal. However-" He paused quietly, pursing his lips to ponder the comment he had almost blurted.

He was the chief of police's son, and by default, he did have a reputation to uphold. He could hardly go around knowingly acquainting gangsters shrouded in infamy. Although, Valentino didn't entirely feel he needed to uphold anything of his father's. He was selfish, notoriously so, and if something stood to benefit him but risk his father's embarrassment, he would always opt for the former rather than the latter. Hence why he was somewhat open to the idea of continuing to see Alexander, even if that later on meant his father realising that his only son was becoming increasingly involved in a world of criminality. Until then, Valentino was sure his father had no idea of Alexander's tendencies, and that could be used to his advantage.

"However-" He finally continued, offering a break of a smile, however forced, "I am willing to... continue an acquaintance, purely because of our mutual hatred of Ramsay. I can ensure you my father would remain oblivious to whatever you do, at least until I get what I want from you. I want Ramsay Dillon dead. I hardly care how you do it, or how brutal it is, but I'd quite like the man to suffer a great deal. I do think that you are under the impression I'm a prissy, pretentious student. Granted, that's true, but... I do hate being treated unjustly, and the way Ramsay treats me... I'd quite like it avenged."

Pausing again, just as momentarily, a burst of morals hit him hard. It was like an outer-body experience - he did take a step back and realise just how involved he was becoming in a world he had known nothing about only a week prior. Now, he was openly encouraging a murder; bargaining with a gangster for the demise of another.

Although, when he considered it all, he really didn't feel bad for it all. He knew he ought to, that he ought to recognise that this in itself was worthy of an arrest, but he just felt... indifferent to it all.

"If you don't want to cooperate, Alexander, I'm sure I can help my father unravel the mysteries involving the network of gangs in this city. I've garnered quite a lot of information tonight-- and yes, this is obviously blackmail. Like I say, underestimation of anyone is hardly that wise."​
 

With Ramsay and his gang gone, Alexander focussed his attention on Valentino. Noticing the way the young man moved away from him, arms folded across his chest, Alexander was quick to realise that his true identity had been revealed. How annoying. He was hoping to keep his cards close to his chest, keep up the façade that he had created in the club. But it seemed that he was now forced to come clean, or otherwise have to deal with looking like a fool if he continued his act. Remaining silent, Alexander watched every detail of Valentino's body language, thinking on what his next move should be. Though when Valentino cursed under his breath and began to speak, Alexander had to think on his feet. Valentino had confirmed what Alexander had realised, and now he would have to cover his bases. He could tell through the rich boy's scathing laugh and tone that he angry, that he needed to let everything out. So the gang leader allowed him to talk, not interrupting at all, even when Valentino paused. Once Valentino had seemingly stopped, ending his little rant with an expression of his desire to see Ramsay dead, Alexander finally spoke.

"I didn't mean to use you. You have to understand that in this world – in my world – all opportunities need to be taken as soon as possible. But I genuinely do not just think of you as another opportunity. You seem more interesting than that, and you have wishes that are similar to mine. I may be a criminal, but I'm not your average gangster. My family is more valuable than the street urchins like Ramsay. We don't stoop as low as he does." Pausing, Alexander thought over Valentino's apparent order to see Ramsay dead. It wouldn't be the first time that Alexander or his gang had killed, but this seemed like a much more dangerous and personal task. However, before he could properly think it over or give Valentino a response, the young man was talking yet again. In fact, he was blackmailing him. Alexander raised an eyebrow at Valentino's words and smirked, a little taken aback by this. It wasn't every day that he met a young rich kid who knew how to effectively blackmail people who were of the same status as Alexander.

"I suppose I will have to stop underestimating you then," Alexander noted, letting out a short chuckle. This was too amusing to him, though he also didn't take Valentino's blackmail lightly. Valentino wasn't just anybody – as the chief of police's son, he had more power than most people. And this situation wasn't one that Alexander had much of a response to. Of course, he had dealt with blackmail, but he usually sent one of his more trained gangsters to discreetly deal with the situation, rather than be stringed along by some moron who thought they could blackmail a gang leader of his reputation. But with Valentino, assassination wasn't an option. It was too risky. And besides, he wanted to keep Valentino in his sights for as long as possible.

Letting out a sigh, Alexander smiled. "Lucky for you, I actually want Ramsay dead, and I rather like having you around. You have my cooperation. And I have now acknowledged the fact that I shouldn't underestimate you. It's a shame you hate my world so much – you may fit in nicely, especially with my Royals." Another small laugh, and then Alexander returned to business. "Obviously, I can't give you details yet, since we have only just come up with the plan. Also, despite the fact that you apparently 'don't care' about how he is eliminated, I still think you ought to know how all of this will go. You have my number, and you should give me yours so that I can contact you once everything is in place. We wouldn't want you ending up in the wrong place at the wrong time, now would we?"

A mischievous smirk appeared on Alexander's lips as he stared at Valentino, though he tried not to give away his array of thoughts and scenarios. "Call or text my number so I can get yours, and then we can go from there. You should expect a call from me in a few days, most likely. My subordinates and I are quick to plan such things."

Alexander looked down at his watch. It wasn't late, not for him at least, though he knew that some of his gang members would be waiting for him, no doubt wanting to discuss what had happened tonight. On top of that, he also had this new plan to discuss with them, and the sooner they worked on it, the better it would be. Returning his attention to Valentino, Alexander nodded. "Well, as long as you don't need me any more tonight, then I will be on my way. Stay with your friends, I don't want Ramsay's gang getting to you before I can get to them." After waiting for a couple of seconds, Alexander began to slowly walk away from Valentino. Considering how disgusted and enraged the young man had sounded when he spoke about 'criminals', the gang leader assumed that he didn't want to be around him for much longer. "Goodnight, Mr. De Montfort," Alexander added as the distance between him and Valentino grew.​

​
 
It wasn't cockiness, and nor was it smugness (at least, it wasn't either in his eyes), but Valentino really didn't expect the other to refuse his offer... or refuse to acknowledge the thinly-veiled blackmail. The moment he commented, he expected the criminal to accept the suggestion of working with him on their shared desire.

After all, however much Valentino disliked Alexander now he knew what he did, and however much Alexander had wanted to use Valentino as a pawn in some larger game, they did have the similar enemy: Ramsay was a thorn in both their sides that both of them wanted gone. As such, wasn't it sometimes best to put disagreements aside and work towards Ramsay's demise?

Besides, as awful as it was to admit, he did revel in all of this. It was new to him, and he really didn't think he ought to enjoy something so beneath him, but he did find himself smirking to himself when the other bid his goodbyes, to which he simply nodded. He was hardly going to give him anything more than an acknowledged nod when Alexander did have the original intent to deceive him. That wasn't something Valentino really appreciated - in fact, he would have preferred the man to have come out straight with his intentions, rather than attempt to be suave and sweet talk him.

Not that it mattered now, of course. He had some sort of deal sorted with him to get Ramsay out of his life, and so all he really needed to do now was to avoid Ramsay like the plague. He wasn't idiotic enough to even dare approaching him again - the look of pure murder in his eyes tonight, however alcohol fuelled, was enough to make Valentino want to stay away from him.

It wasn't fear (he'd argue) but simply being wise enough to know when he was momentarily at a weaker position than his counterpart.

And so, for the remainder of the week, Valentino did (partially successfully) stay as far away from any areas of town where he'd be at risk of bumping into anyone from Ramsay's 'crew'. Likewise, he had instinctively avoided any incoming texts from Alexander until remembering the deal and engaging in conversation with him over it. He did feel a twinge of horror after the first conversation. It wasn't normal to be conversing with a criminal, regardless of class, and talking to him did eventually make him realise the seriousness of the situation.

He was genuinely planning and hoping for someone's death. Though, in truthfulness, one reminder of whose death it was did just spur him on to hearing the details of the plans and openly promote the negotiations further.

And, as bad as it was, something Alexander had said when they last met in person had stuck. You may fit in nicely. Any compliment was something Valentino sucked up and used to boost his already raging ego, but a compliment involving something so dark and criminal? His automatic reaction was to scoff and laugh it off, but, after the seriousness hit him? He did consider it a huge compliment. Would he ever get involved in something so low? Again, his instantaneous answer would be no, but wasn't he already doing something 'beneath him'?

That had been playing on his mind for the week. He had absolutely no intention to leave his apartment and lead a life of crime - just because he was planning this with Alexander obviously didn't mean he wanted to get involved into anything further with him. However, he did get further involved than perhaps he had expected to, especially when it wasn't initiated by Alexander, but purely off his own back. It was related to Ramsay's demise, which was how Valentino defended it to himself, but he had risked meeting the man by wandering down a few lanes he expected him to be down. And why? Purely to target one of Ramsay's men.

Ramsay wasn't the only one to do research. Valentino had done his own homework on Ramsay's gang, and pinpointed one particular member he thought he could persuade with apologetic whines and simpering looks. It would hardly work on anyone with half a brain, which is why his homework had proved so successful - he had found out the incredible naivety of one of the gang; a member famed for his clumsiness and surprisingly trusting nature. The only real reason he had apparently kept his position and his life was for his lifelong friendship with the leader. If not for that, it would be easy to see him losing his status as part of the gang.

Especially now he had easily been swayed by Valentino who had bravely approached - brave, in the sense that it all could have ended terribly with him being beaten black and blue by the man. However? The man, a late twenty-year-old named Dylan, had awkwardly shuffled during the conversation, and not even five minutes in, fell for Valentino's apology. Dylan didn't exactly have it in him to really hate anyone, and if Valentino had apologised, didn't that make everything okay again? In his eyes, it had, and he was happy to pursue the friendship Valentino had offered him.

Obviously there was no friendship. It was just a link to Ramsay, and a way of proving that he could hurt him without anyone's help. If Alexander failed on his end, Valentino at least had this way of harming Ramsay, and showing that he could proficiently interfere in his life, like the gangster had done with his own.

Although, even after the week of admittedly good fun he had had in manipulating the gang member and feeling what it was like to genuinely have power over someone, the student did return to reality by going back to his classes at university. The one intrinsic difference he sought to have over the others was that anything criminal wasn't his desire. Just this one little thing with Ramsay, and then he was quite happy to go back to his law abiding ways, and one way he could do that was continue his classes at university. Of course, that meant heading through that dreaded council estate, but with all the information he had; his links with Alexander, and the secret faux friendship with Dylan, confronting Ramsay didn't seem like such a big threat. Sure, it was best to avoid him, but if the likelihood of meeting him came true, he wasn't going to cower away like a child, and he wasn't going to act as he had in the past with his defensive insults. He felt he was above all that now he had a plan like this in motion.
​
 

After the encounter with Valentino and Alexander, Ramsay was in need of more information. Whilst Valentino was apparently disgusted by anyone even remotely involved in the gang world, Ramsay knew just how manipulative Alexander could be, and he wouldn't put it past the two of them to create some kind of alliance, one that benefited the both of them. Was he being paranoid? Perhaps, but Ramsay knew that he had to keep an eye out, especially when it came to Alexander and the Royals. Before the encounter, Ramsay's attention had been focussed much more on Valentino, but now, with the thought of Valentino and Alexander striking up a partnership, his priorities had shifted to the rival gang leader. The last thing he needed was an unlikely duo taking him down when he least expected it.

But Valentino wasn't entirely out of Ramsay's sights. He had made sure to send some gangsters out on patrol, telling them to inform him of Valentino's movements. Not much had happened within the week – all the rich kid seemed to do was go to university, and then go back home. None of the gangsters had seen Alexander go anywhere near him, but that wasn't enough to quell Ramsay's suspicions. There was always a plan in Alexander's head, and with the discovery of Valentino, the cogs in his mind must have been turning. Maybe they weren't meeting face-to-face, but were instead talking over the phone or something like that. Many of Ramsay's subordinates had told him that he was just being paranoid, but he couldn't get over it. There was no way that nothing would come of that encounter outside of the club. Even if there were no immediate signs that something was going on, Ramsay wouldn't let it go.

Ramsay had called one of the patrolling gangsters into his flat. It was his lifelong friend Dylan, and though the two had known each other for years, Ramsay had to admit that he was losing his patience with him. The man was incompetent to say the least, completely unfit to be a ruthless gangster. Nevertheless, Ramsay kept him busy, giving him odd jobs to do here and there. And since Dylan was one of the only people to go along with Ramsay's patrol plan, he had been tasked with watching Valentino most days of the week. Ramsay needed a status report, and it was Dylan's turn to report back once again.

"How's it going? The piglet done anything out of the ordinary?" Ramsay questioned as he sat opposite Dylan, watching his friend with narrowed eyes.

"No. He just keeps going to university and then going back home," Dylan replied, shuffling slightly in his seat. If this was anyone else, Ramsay would have been a bit more suspicious, but he knew how awkward Dylan could be. A conversation between friends was usually enough to make Dylan shift and stammer.

"You sure? He hasn't spoken to anyone?"

"No. He hasn't done anything except go to univers--"

"I get it. He goes to school and then walks back home." Ramsay sighed, slumping back into the sofa. "No one's spoken to him, no one's given him anything, no one's visited him?" Dylan shook his head. "Great. Well, go back to work, your job's not done yet." Ramsay was intent on finding something to use against Valentino and Alexander. He didn't care if he kept this patrol up for months, he was going to get at least a shred of information out of it.


Alexander and the Royals had spent the week creating a plan to kill Ramsay. The gang leader had made sure to contact the top killers in his gang, the best tacticians, and the people who had the most information about Ramsay. This plan needed to be foolproof and efficient, with no holes for Ramsay to slip through. A full week had gone by, all seven days spent by gathering in the basement of Alexander's mansion and collecting photos, case files, intel, and secrets – anything to help them with their plan. And after all of this plotting, Alexander finally had something to show for it. It was the best plan, one that they had tested with every hypothetical situation they could think of. If Alexander and his team was correct, there was no way that Ramsay would survive, and there was nothing to throw themselves under the bus with when the police came knocking on doors.

With the plan in mind and ready to put into action, Alexander had a phone call to make. Going through his phone, he found Valentino's number and began to message the young man. The plan is ready and I need you to drop by. No. 2 Eamon's Lane, the mansion with the blue door. Get here as soon as possible, preferably sometime today. One of my men will be outside, tell him Alex sent you to go over some homework. Delete this message once you arrive, I don't want there to be any trails for people to follow. Alexander sent the message Valentino's way, assuming that he would do as he had told him. This was what Valentino had wanted, and surely there was no way that he would back out now. The boy wasn't stupid – he knew who he was dealing with, and Alexander was sure that he knew what would happen if he did back out now that they had gotten this far. All that was left was for Valentino to respond, which he would do soon, with any luck.​

​
 
Admittedly, despite having some contact with the renowned man, there hadn't been anything solid yet. He had hoped that a plan would have been concocted quickly, but, not having any experience in this sort of thing, and not being the one predominantly sorting out the intricacies, Valentino, uncharacteristically, forced selfishness and petulance out of his mind, replacing it with maturity and a realisation for patience.

Although, when the text came through and he let his eyes scan it, he did have a sense of relief flood through him; a recognition of 'finally'. Finally, things seemed to have come together, and finally they could get it all over and done with. As exciting as this world could be, how contrasting it was to his usual white-collar life, he did note how important it was to return to normality.

Usually, he would never give something up that interested and excited him, and this world? It did both of those combined. He hadn't really felt the sort of adrenaline rush that came with seeing Alexander's text, and not had he felt such eagerness when heading to his apartment complex to inform his chauffeur that he was to be taken to Alexander's home.

Though, it was impossible for him to continue anything like this up. As fun as it was, he himself knew just how temporary it was. His father was the police of chief, and Valentino did have high aspirations in life. While Alexander had achieved a high status in society, and still maintained a role in his criminal lifestyle, Valentino couldn't -and didn't want to- follow his lead. Sure, this was fun... but he still had a respect for the law. He didn't want to go planning the deaths of anyone. It was purely just Ramsay. After he was dealt with, then Valentino was happy to go his own way again and focus on his art; making money and continue socialising with wealthy people who weren't secret criminals involved in the underbelly of gang culture in the city.

Nevertheless, for now, he was going to absorb every little second of the situation. If it made him excited, then he was going to continue to carry on with the plan until it had reached succession. Flopping back against the leather interior of his typically expensive and custom-made car once reaching home, he gave the details across to his chauffeur who, despite his hesitations and reservations, was employed not to ask questions and just do. Which in itself was a good thing. Valentino had a tendency to gloat to his chauffeur, and, as kind as the man was, he was employed by Valentino's father, and the last thing anyone needed was the man knowing what his son was planning.

Glancing up out the window from his phone -he had texted Alexander back a simple smiley emoticon just to be deliberately and annoyingly playful with the gangster-, he did grin at the sight of the lavish mansion, with its endless driveway and luxury fountain; the staple of wealth in Alexander's mind. His parents' home, his childhood house, was much the same. If it wasn't for Alexander's criminality, he could see himself befriending the man. He didn't trust him all that much, but that did generally tend to be the problem with the wealthy in society. There was usually a distinct lack of trust and considerable back-stabbing gossip.

"Wait here. I shouldn't be too long. Read a newspaper or something, Ernie," he drawled to the driver as he calmly strolled from the car and smoothed down his outfit to at least look his best, though he always had the utmost confidence in his style. When your mother was a fashion designer, it was hard not to have the nicest styles in your wardrobe.

Once passing on the message Alexander had told him to, and waiting to get access, he noted to delete the message as he trailed into the grand home. It was his complete lack of experience that led to his naivety, because he would never have thought of deleting messages and being just this secretive - it was a relief that he at least had Alexander's support on that.

"Oi, Fountier," he spoke quietly, hesitating in the hall purely out of manners. He knew he couldn't just stroll through the house - he did want to be met at the door by his host. Wasn't that decency in their social circles? Of course, his direct greeting was perfectly acceptable in his eyes. "Are you going to come meet me? Hm?"​
 

Alexander checked his phone when he received a message, immediately rolling his eyes at the smiley emoticon that Valentino had sent his way. Deleting the text, Alexander assumed that Valentino was on his way, and he prepared himself. At that moment, he didn't look too smart, his blazer tossed to one side and his button-up shirt slightly undone, sleeves rolled up. Planning a murder didn't require looking at your best, and so he hadn't bothered. But with Valentino soon arriving, he knew that he had to make an effort. Straightening our his shirt and pulling on his jacket, Alexander left the basement and went into the living room, telling one of the gangsters inside to go and wait outside, the message he had given Valentino repeated to the subordinate. A few Royals were sitting around in the open living room, most of them focussed on the football match that was playing on the TV. Alexander wasn't too interested in it himself – he had never been one for sports, much to his father's disappointment. Nevertheless, he took a seat in one of the available armchairs, eyes trained on the TV screen.

It wasn't long before he heard the front door opening, and the gangster who had been situated outside peeked into the living room. "Some kid's here," he told Alexander. "He said you told him to come here."

"Well then let him in then," Alexander snapped, unamused by his subordinate's apparent inability to remember what he had been told. There was no need to come running to him to inform him that Valentino was waiting. Alexander was well aware of that, and he was prepared to meet with the young man. Getting out of his seat, he straightened his suit out before going over to the living room door, the gangster waiting there and listening in as Valentino was let inside. He heard Valentino speak, and Alexander shook his head at the young man's words.

"'Oi, Fountier'?" Alexander questioned as he entered the hall, a smirk drawn across his lips. His gaze fell upon Valentino, taking note of his stylish apparel. Alexander didn't expect anything less. "What are you, a commoner? That sounds like something Ramsay would say." Strolling a little closer to Valentino, Alexander's smirk turned into a more welcoming smile, and he glanced around the hall. It was empty, the other gangsters preoccupied in the living room or down in the basement. "Welcome to my home. I'm sure you'll enjoy your stay. Now, onto business. Follow me."

Alexander led Valentino down to the basement, which was done up as nicely as a basement could be. A large oak table was in the centre, matching chairs lined up around it. Atop the table were the plans for the 'assassination', all sorted and ready to be presented to Valentino. A few gangsters were sat around the table, though they didn't make a sound, only staring at the young man for a while before looking back at the plans in front of them. "Take a seat," Alexander told Valentino as he gestured over at the chairs, taking his own seat at the head of the table. There were more than enough spaces to choose from, considering how many were dotted around. Once Valentino was comfortable, Alexander turned his attention to the plans.

"It's taken quite a bit of time, but my men and I have come up with a plan to take out Ramsay. No one said it would be simple, and this plan isn't as straightforward as you may have wanted it to be. Ramsay is protected by his Bulldogs, and whilst they are beneath us, they can still do a lot of damage if we aren't careful. They will fight back if they even catch wind of what we plan to do, so this needs to remain secret." Alexander glanced over at Valentino, and then continued. "After watching Ramsay, we've found that he doesn't often travel without at least one gangster with him. Even at home, he will often have someone with him, which makes abducting him a little difficult. And a home invasion could get the attention of the other tenants in the flat, so we can't do that easily. But there is one opportunity for us to grab him. In the early morning, he will sometimes go out on his own, heading to the nearby cornershop, where he receives payment from the owner – what for, we don't know, but that doesn't matter. I need you to draw him out when he is alone."

This was where the plan became interesting. Alexander looked over at Valentino once more, pausing slightly to let his words sink in, and then he continued to explain the plan. "We assumed that since Ramsay is antagonistic toward you, but not to the point where he will immediately fight you as he would with my gang, you could draw him to our 'abduction zone'. There's a car park near the cornershop, no CCTV and no other nearby houses or shops. A car with a group of Royals will be parked in there, and I want you to draw Ramsay close to the car, so that the Royals can grab him and bring him to the safehouse to be dealt with. It is vital that you keep his attention – we don't want him noticing the Royals until they have him in the back of the car. Of course, in order to know if Ramsay is alone, you'll have to be watching him. Someone will call you to let you know if he is isolated – we have two Royals on patrol – but you need to be watching out for him too. The car park itself is close to the wealthier side, so you may even be able to see Ramsay nearby."

"If you need back-up, we'll be there," one of the gangsters told Valentino, nodding. "But he shouldn't be much trouble. Just keep him distracted."

"Is everyone clear on this?" Alexander asked the group. His subordinates nodded and agreed that they understood, and Alexander waited on Valentino's response. There were more details to clear up, but that was the gist of it. With any luck, Valentino would be on board and they could get on with this whole plan. "Do you have any questions, or should I give you the plan? It has all the details you should need: addresses, the license plate number of the car, anything and everything we picked up on Ramsay. Also, phone numbers of those who may need to contact you. Don't ring them, they will call you. If you really need to talk, text them or me."​

​
 
In the moments before Alexander made his appearance, the university student took the moment to observe the interior of the house in more detail. He had absolutely no doubts that it would make the grand exterior, so when introduced to lavishness reminiscent of his father and mother's home, a brief smile pulled at his lips, seldom seen in recent times.

Sure, Alexander was, at his core, someone who engaged in criminal activity. However much he attempted to claim how far distanced he was from Ramsay, Valentino would categorise them in the same boat. The fact Alexander had a status in society really didn't make that much of a difference for the pretentious student. He could at least abide his company to work with him on a mutual matter - that was where Alexander's wealth at least made an impact. One glance around the grand hall did settle any disgust that could have crept its way into his mind, because, as much as he was secretly enjoying the excitement of planning Ramsay's hopeful demise, he was still engaging with criminals. Alexander's wealth did at least make him able to work with him temporarily.

Though, admittedly, when the man finally made an appearance, the first words out of his mouth did irritate Valentino terribly. Like with Ramsay, he really wasn't afraid of speaking as he wanted. He had never held back from being outspoken. It wasn't in his nature to sit back and force his words back; he was someone who said exactly what was on his mind, regardless of who that was to. Already, that had gotten him into this position, with his antagonism with Ramsay.

"Don't compare me with that man. I don't appreciate it. It's utterly disgusting," he criticised quickly in retort, scoffing under his breath and any attempt to irritate him-- well, the attempt had clearly worked, if his sudden scowl in response to the easy smirk was anything to go by. Trailing after him, remaining silent purely out of stubbornness and to reiterate how offended he was - like hell was he going to give Alexander any emotional response after the insult, however playful it was.

And so, during the meeting and the explanation of the plan, he remained stony-faced. Though, that was hardly a hard feat for someone usually cold hearted and unemotional anyway. Instead, he sat with his legs calmly folded and fingers tapping against the table. While externally he was unresponsive to the plan, internally, he was thinking it all through and practically glowering with praise. He understood the dangers of the plan -he knew of the risks before he had even suggested working with Alexander- but he would quite happily accept a punch or two if it meant having Ramsay dealt with appropriately.

The only real danger he could foresee was his father growing wise. He knew his father was mostly always monitoring Ramsay Dillon. Hell, the man had pledged on national news to rid the town of crime, and had very recently called out Ramsay by name, determined to see him behind bars. If, like Valentino assumed, he was keeping tabs on him, then it could potentially mean he would eventually find out his son was involved in something this illegal.

But he also had realised the risk of that prior to planning. His father was determined to keep crime off the streets, and knowing his own son was involved would damage him... so Valentino was completely certain and confident that the man would simply cover up his involvement if it all reached his knowledge. Valentino didn't really care if Alexander was implemented and blamed for the whole thing - as long as he himself was safe, then who else honestly mattered?

He did like Alexander a little more than when he first entered, mostly because the plan was perfect in his eyes. He wanted some involvement in it, and here he was, with the plan practically dependent on him - he enjoyed having that much power and responsibility. Besides... Alexander was someone he would hang out with if it wasn't for his hobbies. There was a reason Valentino had approached him at the bar, after all.

"I'm definitely up for it," he finally spoke after a period of rather tense silence, his emotions still in check though his eyes did glitter excitedly; his excitement and eagerness was something he couldn't hold back. "I'm pretty sure I can get him close to the car. I'm like a red rag to a bull when it comes to Ramsay. He wants to beat me up, so... it'll be easy. He's so utterly predictable-- the only real problem is my father. If he finds out, then you're all basically done for. Sure, you can bribe him to keep quiet, but my father doesn't really fall for such things. He'd happily die if it means he has criminals behind bars. Just bear that in mind, Alex. Although, maybe I can be persuaded to convince my father to let it slide by if he finds out, hm?"

Suddenly breaking his cold front to give a smirk of his own, the student was particularly in his element. Alexander could tease, sure, but so could Valentino. And teasing Alexander playfully did bring him enjoyment. Of course, on the outside looking in, his words did hold great seriousness - he was openly admitting that he would happily see Alexander behind bars unless persuaded and begged not to come to his rescue. But in actuality? He was mostly just teasing - he probably would, upon reflection, convince his father to spare Alexander if it came to it. He was selfish, but he respected Alexander for helping him, and that was enough to help him in return if the situation presented itself. Therefore, his playful teasing was just that; teasing, even if it contradicted his usually reserved personality.

"I'm hungry," he declared in a yawn, resting back comfortably against the back of the chair. "Considering I have the cards in my hand right now, I'd appreciate a break to have something to eat, Alexander. Or do you want me to starve~?"​
 

Hearing that Valentino was up for the challenge, Alexander smirked. He didn't need to be told about how predictable and eager Ramsay was – Alexander had noted it all down that night at the club, when Ramsay had confronted Valentino and was seemingly on the verge of knocking the young man out. There was no doubt in Alexander's mind that Ramsay would charge at Valentino, would take any opportunity that he could to harm him. And that made this plan all the more easy. He could see the glimmer of excitement in Valentino's eyes, and it told Alexander that he had made the right choice in bringing Valentino into all of this. The young man would play a key part in this plan, and having him ready to play his role caused confidence to swell within the gangster.

However, when Valentino brought up his father, Alexander felt a pang of anxiety hit him. It was true, the chief of police would be an issue, especially considering it was his son who would have a large part in this plan. The plan had been to bribe him, or quieten him through other means if this all got out, but when Valentino said that his father didn't often fall for such things, Alexander felt a little anxious. And even he had to admit that he was a little shaken when Valentino began to smirk and talk about needing persuading in order to help his father let all of this slide if worst came to worst. Keeping a cool front, Alexander tried to look unfazed, though he could sense that his smirk had fallen a little as he stared at Valentino. Though, Alexander wasn't worried about being behind bars – his father had more influence than many knew, and he could afford the best lawyers in the country. There was no chance of Alexander being behind bars for long, or even at all. What worried him more was the way Valentino was teasing him. This kid wasn't a naïve little rich boy, and he had just proven that with his actions.

The rest of the gangsters seated around the table were focussed on Alexander. They weren't used to seeing someone confront their leader in any way, whether it be by teasing him or not. The threat of putting Alexander behind bars clearly had them on edge, more so than Alexander himself. They relied on him to show strength, and when he didn't, they grew nervous, just as they were doing then. After a moment or two, the worries of the gangsters were quelled when Alexander returned Valentino's smirk with one of his own, returning to conceived position of power. He wouldn't show weakness, no matter the situation. And Valentino would not be getting the better of him, not to any degree.

"You want me to persuade you?" Alexander asked, tilting his head to the side slightly. "And how do you propose I do that? What could someone like you – someone who supposedly has it all – want?" He chuckled and shook his head. "You'll have to make your demands clearer before any 'persuading' happens."

Watching as Valentino yawned and announced his hunger, Alexander raised a questioning eyebrow before giving a quick eye roll. He turned his attention to the others at the table and gestured for them to leave. The gangsters all stood up within an instant and made their way out of the basement, none of them saying a word or sparing Alexander a second glance. As soon as they had all left, the gang leader returned his gaze to Valentino, leaning forward against the table. "I don't remember you being like this when we first met," he noted. "You appear to be acting your age now. Not that there's any issue with that – you're only young once."

Standing up from his seat, Alexander motioned for Valentino to rise with him. "I definitely would not want you to starve, but you'll have to be clearer on what you desire," he said as he went to leave the basement, expecting Valentino to follow him. Heading up to the ground floor, Alexander listened as the gangsters who had been watching football began to cheer, the living room sounding a lot more livelier than it had before. He passed by and peered in, noticing that those who had just been downstairs had taken it upon themselves to join the others. To be fair, he couldn't blame them. It was good for morale, as his father had always told him. No need to berate your subordinates if they're having harmless fun. However, upon entering his kitchen and seeing the bottles and snacks lying haphazardly everywhere, he debated storming in there to lecture someone.

"Excuse the mess," he said to Valentino. "It appears my subordinates do not know how to act in someone else's home." He glanced around at the food, noting that most of it had been eaten, the bare plates and bowls left around for someone else to clean up. Checking the fridge and cupboards, he was at least glad that not everything had been ravaged. "What would you like? You can check for yourself if you want, everybody else has apparently." Moving out of the way for Valentino, Alexander leant against the kitchen island and waited for the young man to make his choice. Alexander had to admit that he was a little hungry, but wasn't too bothered about what he ate. Whatever Valentino wanted, he would probably have as well, to save time and energy over deciding on what to eat. Arms folded across his chest, Alexander stood and waited to hear what Valentino wanted to do.
​
 
"Oh, please don't call me young or infer that I'm acting childish. I'm simply enjoying myself, is that so wrong? You enjoy these cat and mouse games with Ramsay, don't you? I happen to enjoy teasing you, you're so easy to tease and frighten. For this big gang boss with a vast wealth and a bunch of cronies at your disposal, you're so very fearful," he laughed under his breath, completely enjoying and devouring his moment of power over the other, what with the onslaught of teases that came across seriously and like blackmail, though in reality, were nothing more than jibes to see Alexander sweat under the collar.

Seeing such an established, calm-headed and powerful man lose his cool, if only a little, did give him great pleasure... but it wasn't at all malicious. If Alexander didn't see that he was purely being playful, then he was far more concerned about things than Valentino had initially realised. Was he really that fearful over Valentino's father interrupting their plans that he couldn't take a joke?

Deciding to ease whatever tension could be simmering, and just deciding to try and clear any confusion over his teasing, he silently placed himself at the table after disgustedly shoving a few empty wrappers away from him. He wasn't that surprised by the mess. Alexander had manners, and Valentino knew that he wouldn't ever behave in such a piggish manner, but his so called 'Royals'? They were only royal in name; definitely not in behaviour.

"I'll have Eggs Florentine, something light-- that isn't really the discussion I'd like to take part in right now. Are you honestly that scared about my father, or feel I'm trying to belittle you? Because if so, you really don't have a grand sense of humour. Should my father find out, I'd ensure you got away without tarnishing your image or name. If the plan did hitch because of my father, I promise that I'd get you away without anyone in the media even contemplating your involvement. I'd only do this because you're helping with Ramsay," he explained finally, resting his head on his hand with a bored look. It wasn't that fun when he had to explain himself to Alexander, and nor did he really feel that he ought to, but, if only to create a little more transparency between them, it was worth it. He was working with Alexander to effectively have someone killed; the more transparency between them, the better.

"I happen to like you." Valentino declared, his honesty seldom seen when it involved personal matters like this. He would usually declare his hatred for someone, rather than his liking for them. "Don't get me wrong, you have your faults. You can be somewhat idiotic in that you can't take a joke or a jest, but you're as best company as I could have. Your so-called gang? They're idiots. You need to find better people to work alongside-- purely an opinion, you understand, but given I'm practically perfect, you ought to take my opinion as gospel," he grinned quietly, though didn't dwell on the teasing. Clearly, Alexander didn't have that good a sense of humour. "Just make my eggs, hm? I need to be treated with some decency and consideration if you want my protection and assistance-- do I need to introduce a caveat every time I'm going to joke around with you so your pride doesn't get hurt?"​
 

When Valentino chastised Alexander for inferring that he was childish, the gangster smirked slightly, though it faltered somewhat when he was brought into the conversation some more. A part of him did enjoy the cat and mouse games that he played with Ramsay, though Alexander would never admit to that, not to Valentino. The young man was smarter than people thought, and intelligence was dangerous in this world. The notion of him being 'fearful' got under Alexander's skin somewhat, though he tried his best to look calm and collected. There was reason to be fearful, considering this entire plan. But Alexander could keep his cool, and that was what he planned on doing. The fact that Valentino supposedly enjoyed teasing him came as no surprise – the young man had been doing it since he arrived at the house. Shaking off Valentino's words, Alexander focussed on the matters at hand.

Alexander raised a questioning eyebrow when Valentino said that he wanted Eggs Florentine. He hadn't expected the young man to request something that would take as much preparation as that, but nevertheless, Alexander got to work, creating two servings for himself and the student. He had just cleared space on the counter and started preheating the grill when he registered that Valentino was speaking once more, this time addressing the issue of his father and the possibility that this plan could become common knowledge. Alexander understood that Valentino's teasing and jokes were all in good fun, but it was still nice to receive some form of clarity from the young man. Hearing how certain Valentino was that none of this would get out, that no names would be discovered and no people would be ruined, made Alexander feel slightly more at ease. His worries had only been minor, but it was enough to put doubt in his mind. Glancing over in Valentino's direction, Alexander paused for a moment before going back to cooking, acknowledging what the boy had said.

However, Valentino's next statement caused Alexander to stop in his tracks. It was so blunt it probably could have knocked him out had it been a weapon, and it was so unexpected that he couldn't have seen it from miles away. This time, he moved all of his attention to Valentino, listening as the student explained himself. The insinuation that Alexander couldn't take a joke and that his gang were idiots caused the leader to scoff, though there was some truth behind Valentino's words, as much as he hated to admit it. "You know, I can take a joke," Alexander began to defend himself, turning back to the Eggs Florentine that he was in the process of making. "You just tease so much that I can't tell the difference between a joke and the truth. And some members of my gang may be lacking in intelligence, but they're the best I've got for now, and they work well as grunts." As if on cue, the living room erupted with a loud cheer, and Alexander rolled his eyes.

"Anyway, I wasn't too worried about your father. I know you'll keep everything under wraps, otherwise I would have never allowed you to know a single thing about this plan," Alexander explained. "But you better stick to your word. I don't give people many chances, and I won't be making an exception for you, no matter how much you like me." A pause, and then he continued. "I have to admit, I'm glad you supposedly like me. We may be working together for a while, and any kind of positive connection is good for this plan. As long as we don't become enemies, and as long as your father and anyone else keeps their nose out of everything, the plan should go off without a hitch."

Alexander continued to make the Eggs Florentine, grabbing two clean plates from one of the overhead cupboards as the grill worked its magic. Once the food was cooked, the gangster got it all organised on the plates and handed one over to Valentino. "No complaining," he warned the young man with a slight smile. "It's not every day I cook for people, and the last thing I need is any more of your 'perfect opinions'. Go sit down." He gestured toward the stools that were lined around one side of the kitchen island, clearing some space when he realised there were still some plates and bowls left lying around on it. With the used kitchenware in the sink, Alexander grabbed his own plate of Eggs Florentine and took a seat on one of the available stools. "How is it?" He asked Valentino before tucking into his own serving. In his opinion, it was pretty good, though he would always be biased. "Not bad if I say so myself."

Then, as Alexander ate, a thought came to mind. He realised that he didn't know as much as he perhaps should have concerning Valentino and Ramsay's relationship. He just knew that the two of them had a mutual hatred of one another, and that Valentino had come into contact with Ramsay a few times, considering he apparently lived near the council estate that Ramsay liked to frequent. "How long exactly have you known Ramsay, again?" Alexander asked, narrowing his eyes somewhat as he inspected a piece of muffin on his fork, feigning interest in his food to hide his eagerness to learn about Valentino and Ramsay. "To want to kill someone is a rather serious course of action, and whilst I doubt you've taken it lightly, it would be nice to know why you want to help in killing him. What you're motivations are, so to speak." The gangster chuckled. "Don't worry, this isn't an interrogation – I just want to know what's driving you through all of this."​

​
 
Gratefully accepting the meal when it arrived, personally surprised he had actually opted to make it for him, Valentino did eye his acquaintance with a rare but nonetheless genuinely appreciative smile. After all, he was fully aware of just how big of an ass he could be. He knew he was a pain and he knew that he irritated people with his self-important demands and pretentiously opinionated nature, so for Alexander to rustle up the food for him without complaint or argument? It did mean a lot to the prissy student, leaving him without any whine or complaint himself as he simply tucked in.

He did admittedly ignore any defence the man gave for keeping the others in his little gang. It wasn't technically Valentino's place to criticise the setup Alexander had going on, and, on its day, a pretty successful one at that, but if Valentino had an opinion, he was guaranteed to always blurt it regardless of how popular it was.

Now, he and Alexander hadn't known each other all that long, and they were only working together out of their mutual hatred for Ramsay, but Valentino did feel that there was some sort of underlying respect between them. He was sure that Alexander probably thought he was exhaustive. Likewise, he did think Alexander was still far too good to get involved in lower class acts like gang culture... but he still had an opinion on it and the supposed members.

"I'm not sure you'll succeed as greatly as you could if you persist in employing idiots, Alexander. We get on, don't we? We have an understanding and we have similar ideas. I highly recommend you find others who aren't just around for brute strength. I mean, strength probably comes in handy. I don't think I possess a single muscle worthy of landing someone pain, but I possess intelligence, and that's equally as important I feel. But I'm not integrated in this world, and nor do I want to be. You know best," he murmured as he swallowed down a mouthful of egg and spinach, setting his cutlery down to dab at the corners of his mouth, epitomising all the manners he had been brought up with and learning through his time at private school, too.

Hell, if he had set a foot wrong at that school, he would have been punished thoroughly, so it was safe to say that the manners he had had been scared into him.

Happily enjoying the moment of relaxation and silence after the stress of putting a plan together, he did sigh the moment Ramsay was brought up. While that man was the sole reason he and Alexander even shared one another's company at the moment, it still felt like, no matter what Valentino did, Ramsay was there, the main topic of conversation or the main thought in his head.

"Why do I want him dead? Well, why do you want him dead?" He challenged calmly, his eyes now stern and hardening in response to the topic of conversation as he set his handkerchief down and folded his arms lightly across his chest.

"Because he's a mark on society that needs to be cleaned away. He had it in for me the moment I didn't cower in fright. He picked on me because I was clearly of a high class and, rather than babbling an apology and running off, I stood up to him. I admit, perhaps I insulted him too rudely, but come on, that brute deserves a dose of the truth. So he's had it in for me since then, and frankly? I don't want to live my life looking over my shoulder in case that utter animal is there, lurking in the shadows. I have places to be and things to do, Alexander. I won't be tormented by that man. I want him dead, and I want to play a part in his demise, alright? I want to stab a knife into his disgusting face-- okay? Is my motive enough for you to take me seriously because I really don't think your men see me as a serious member in all of this. It's rather insulting."​
 

Alexander listened as Valentino continued to encourage him to find better subordinates. The gang leader feigned apathy, though a part of him knew that Valentino's argument was a compelling one. For someone who was barely involved in the criminal world, he seemed more than a little aware of what went into making a successful gang. Then again, perhaps he had learned this information from his father – it wouldn't have surprised Alexander. He had learned about the basics of the gang lifestyle far before he actually got involved in it all, thanks to his father. He could remember overhearing pieces of information as a child, understanding key concepts about the gang hierarchy just by paying close attention to his father's phone calls and the secret meetings he held in his office. By the time he was formally introduced to it all, he had a somewhat firm grasp on the necessary knowledge that was required to be a gangster. Or at least, a real gangster.

As soon as he brought up Ramsay, Alexander noticed the sigh that escaped Valentino. It was easy to see that Ramsay wasn't a topic of conversation that either of them wanted to focus on, but it was one that needed to be brought up in these circumstances. The man was a target, and Alexander needed to know about Valentino's connections to him. However, Alexander didn't expect Valentino to challenge him as he did. The gang leader was taken aback by the stern look in the young man's eyes, and his own stony walls were coming up, his barriers shutting him down and protecting him. It was the calmness in Valentino's voice that had thrown Alexander off the most, had pushed him into a corner. That calm tone and harsh look weren't supposed to exist together, and the way they clashed made Alexander uneasy. Regardless, he listened closely as Valentino explained himself, trying his best to hide his surprise as the boy's words grew sharper and darker. That darkness was not what Alexander had expected, especially not after all of the joking and teasing that Valentino had thrown his way. And when he noted that he believed Alexander's men were not taking him seriously, Alexander felt as if he had been thrown even further into the deep end.

To be fair, when Alexander looked at Valentino's reasons to hate Ramsay, he could see that the young man was being reasonable. It was never fun to be haunted by a man like Ramsay, and anyone would want him gone. But it was the aggressiveness that worried Alexander. He didn't want Valentino to become engulfed in the flames of his rage. "You need to control your anger," Alexander began once he had composed himself. "I hate Ramsay just as much as you do, but getting out of control and letting your frustrations get the better of you will not help. And there won't be any stabbing – not yet anyway." A slight chuckle escaped Alexander, and he shook his head. Finishing off his Eggs Florentine, Alexander shoved the plate away from himself as if it were some disease-ridden animal, and the refocussed his attention on Valentino.

"My men may not take you seriously, but acting like a frustrated little boy won't help." He didn't mean to sound so insulting, but he couldn't help how his words came out. "Besides, I doubt they'll respect you much. They'll work with you, but they won't respect anyone who isn't a Royal. It's best you get used to that. But don't worry – they won't harm you, unless you try to harm them." Alexander smirked. "You may think you have all the power, but the reality is that life isn't black and white. The scales don't tip entirely to one side, especially not when it comes to all of this."

Alexander thought back on the way Valentino had challenged him, how he questioned why he hated Ramsay. The gang leader contemplated revealing all of the details, but decided against it. Valentino wasn't close enough to reveal everything to him, and there was no guessing what he would do with all of that information. "You want to know why I hate Ramsay?" Alexander questioned. He didn't wait for Valentino's response before continuing. "I hate him because he's my rival. Because he's so beneath me, yet he is also on the same level. We're both leaders, both of us have men at our disposal. In a sense, we're both equal and unequal. And I hate that." He paused, sighing. "Long story short: I hate Ramsay because he's also a gang leader in a close territory. Does that explain my hatred for him enough for you?"

Assuming that Valentino had finished his meal, Alexander grabbed the two plates and headed over to the sink, placing the plates and cutlery in the dishwater before turning to face Valentino once more. However, Alexander made sure there was a bit of distance between them. The discussion that they had just had left him feeling a little cold towards the young man, with those aggressive words still stinging him, despite the fact that they had been directed at Ramsay. A short silence fell upon Alexander, before it was broken by more cheering from the living room. Rolling his eyes, Alexander huffed and folded his arms across his chest. "What do you do when you're not hating Ramsay or getting into trouble with gangsters?" Alexander asked, almost absent-mindedly. The idea of Valentino having a normal life hadn't struck him until just then, when he realised that this man wasn't a gangster. He was just a university student – a rich university student, but a student nonetheless. Alexander didn't really know what it was like to be 'normal', to have a 'normal' life with no gangsters in your house and no police knocking on your door. The notion intrigued him, and whilst Valentino was far from ordinary, the question still remained.

((It's terrible, I'm sorry. So tired lately D: ))​

​
 
It may have been feigned, or kept behind an apathetic expression, but Valentino prided himself (predictably) on how well he deciphered emotions, and it did admittedly make him smile a little at the other's hesitation towards him. He knew it wasn't fear or fright, but if anything, surprise probably hit the nail on the head. He hardly seemed like someone who would ever have so much pent up anger or fury, but he did - Ramsay brought out the worst in him.

Did he particularly care if Alexander became a little unnerved? Not at all. He didn't have to feign his apathy or his nonchalance; he truly didn't care if everybody hated him or grew wary of just how aggressive he could be. In fact, if anything, feeling so inferior and misjudged among these men meant that when he saw just a slice of superiority by spewing off these dark tendencies, he was going to revel in it; not grow guilty about unnerving the man he was working with. Alexander had probably said and done awful things in his life - if he was unnerved by Valentino's admittedly uncharacteristic macabre drawls, then in the student's eyes, again, Alexander needed to get over it.

"I don't particularly care why you hate Ramsay. You hate him; I hate him. That's all I care about: our mutual hatred of that pig," he drawled tiredly, resting his head on his enclosed hand with a soft and deliberately rude roll of his eyes. He was bored and decidedly tedious of talking about Ramsay and being referenced as a "little boy", so any decision to hold back his full emotions wasn't reached. If Alexander was going to be rude like that, then he didn't remotely care if he made his tedium obvious.

Although, any opportunity to talk about himself did spark him back from boredom, smiling to himself at the question, even if he was aware it was only being asked to fill in a void that was left after his angry and aggressive snarls.

"Me? Oh, I attend university near here. I'm an art student, and I dabble with fashion design. My mother, Florence, is a designer, though she's rarely here anymore. She prefers to work in Milan, it's where she's from and where her business is," he smiled calmly, this time without his eyes being stern. He was still somewhat reserved after the discussion, and still hesitant to fully talk with Alexander after spotting his wariness of him, but he wasn't going to let that get in the way of him gushing about his life.

One of his favourite topics was himself, after all.

"I suppose that's an advantage I have over you. I'm not absorbed whatsoever in this world, thank god. I think I'd have to kill myself if this was my life. What I mean is, it can't be healthy to live looking over your shoulder all the time, fearing an attack from a rival gang? I have the advantage of at least being able to live normally. At least, as normally as a police chief's son can live. You'd be surprised the amount of threats my father receives from petty lowlifes," he declared, though it wasn't all that surprising - he was brought up knowing that criminals would obviously dislike his father, and him as a result.

It was how Ramsay first recognised him, and just why they had begun this bitter argument between them. Being his father's son did have his consequences, so if his father ever found out about him, he planned on using that as his excuse - he had no option but to get involved with Alexander, because his father's reputation had brought him unwanted attention. Surely, his father couldn't argue against that when guilt hit him?

It was manipulative, decidedly malicious and far beyond the realms of what a son should do to his father... but Valentino only really cared for himself and his safety, and if manipulating his father would be the only way to escape trouble, then so be it.

"So when do I lure Ramsay out into the car park, then? I hope we get to do this soon. I have a meeting in Paris this Sunday, so if you plan on arranging this then, you can think again."

[[ Hey, it's fine! Tiredness is definitely understandable, I can relate c: Besides, there's absolutely nothing wrong with your response, so don't worry! ]]​
 

It was evident in the way that Valentino drawled and rolled his eyes that he was bored of the topic of conversation that was Ramsay. Alexander couldn't blame him for that – the man was so invasive that talking about him too much became far too tedious and dull, and it appeared neither of them wanted to focus too much on the man. It was why Alexander was glad to shift the conversation onto another subject, and when he saw the way Valentino smiled as the subject became him, the gang leader knew that he must have been glad to talk about anything other than Ramsay as well. Listening as Valentino spoke about himself and his mother, Alexander couldn't help but roll his eyes at how lavish the young man's life sounded. It was to be expected, though – Valentino exuded an air of luxury, and anyone with that kind of atmosphere surrounding them must have had a good life. And as Valentino explained how his mother had a business in Milan and how the student studied art and 'dabbled' in fashion design, Alexander could immediately tell that yes, he had a very good life. How someone could be this privileged amazed the gangster, which itself was a shock, considering how privileged he knew himself to be.

Alexander didn't know quite what to say, so he allowed Valentino to continue. He almost scoffed when Valentino said that he may have killed himself had he been as absorbed in this life as Alexander was. Some people had killed themselves due to this lifestyle that Alexander lead, but he never held much sympathy for them – they were the ones that were either too dumb to watch themselves, or they were the ones who found themselves trapped between a rock and a hard place due to their own incompetence. Alexander was smarter than that, and had more power than those who offed themselves did. Though the rest of what Valentino said did surprisingly resonate with Alexander. Sometimes, it was tough to have to continue to look over your shoulder, worried about any rivals that could be planning to kill you. Of course, power meant nothing when you were walking around, able to be seen by anyone who wanted to harm you. Alexander may have had talented lawyers and a whole gang behind him, but they meant nothing if he was dead. Still, that was why they were planning to get rid of Ramsay, and with that thorn out of Alexander's side, he hoped that he could perhaps live life a little more safely.

"I probably wouldn't be surprised to learn how many threats your father or you receive," Alexander replied. "As the son of a powerful gangster who used to run this city, I received a fair few threats myself growing up, and my father even more. But they were only threats most of the time, a lot of the people who sent them either couldn't get close enough to do any damage, or they were too afraid to do anything more. But sending threats gives them a sense of power, and at the end of the day, that's all anybody wants." Shrugging, Alexander paused and thought about some of Valentino's other words. "I don't always look over my shoulder, you know. I don't have to. Most people know better than to attack me, and those who don't know better soon learn. Except Ramsay, it seems – but he will soon be taken care of."

With the subject shifted back to the plan at hand, Alexander straightened up a bit and took on a much more professional and cold attitude. Slipping back into his leader outlook was easy enough for him, and he thought back to the outlined plans. Ignoring the urge to scoff and roll his eyes at Valentino's mention of having a meeting in Paris, Alexander focussed on the plan. "We've arranged for it to happen this coming Wednesday. Middle of the working week, and the day when Ramsay is most likely to be near the location of attack. My men have scouted him out enough to know that he usually goes out early morning on Wednesdays and Fridays, so it will be either one of those days. With any luck, this should be over quick, as we don't plan on holding onto him for long – so you'll be able to go to your meeting, don't worry about that."

Then, a thought came to Alexander, and he went to leave the kitchen. "Wait here, I'll be back in a minute." Leaving no time for Valentino to respond, Alexander headed up to his office, where he kept a few important items. Locked away in the middle drawer of his desk was a whole collection of throwaway mobile phones, the kind used when there were rather illegal plans in the future for you. Grabbing one of the phones, Alexander headed back down to the kitchen, assuming Valentino would still be there. "Here," the gangster said, placing the phone down in front of the student. "From now on, if you have any questions about this plan, you'll use this phone to call me. There's only one number in there, and it's a direct line to me. When the plan is ready to be set into motion, I'll call you on this phone, and tell you where you need to be. You'll also be called the day before we need you, so you will know when to be ready. No one else is to be contacted using this phone, and you should keep it with you at all times." With that out of the way, Alexander took a seat beside Valentino and relaxed once more. "Unless you have any questions, I think we may be done here," he noted, slightly raising his eyebrow at the young man. "You're clear on the plan, yes?"


((Thank you, I just always hate whenever I feel like I haven't written well enough for a post. And thank you for the understanding c: ))​
 
"Of course we're clear on the plan. It doesn't take a genius to understand it. You'll contact me on Wednesday; I arrive at the location and get Ramsay near the car your men are in. It's really rather simple, Alexander. It just so happens I am a genius, so I understand it with no problem whatsoever," he boasted, even though, behind the self-satisfied gushes, he was purely playing on his own pretentiousness. He realised he was completely arrogant, and he knew that he thought himself greater than he probably was, so it was just testament to his rather quick wit that he was comfortable enough to poke fun at that.

At least to Alexander, anyway - he was somewhat comfortable around the man, and so teasing around him didn't seem that uncomfortable. Besides, he had already made it apparent that he adored teasing with him, especially when he thought Alexander couldn't take it.

Pocketing the phone quietly, hiding his distaste at the cheap make (though, granted, he hardly hide his abhorrence that well), he offered a curt nod as he rose to his feet, leaving the chair out - he usually had a maid in his apartment to put the chair back underneath the table for him. It was the epitome of spoilt and privileged, but it was just simply what he was used to.

He could change, sure, but a leopard never changes its spots. Ergo, it seldom would be anticipated that Valentino could change. If he stood any chance, it definitely wouldn't occur overnight, but over some prolonged period of revelation; a timespan where he realised his selfish ways weren't beneficial.

Well, not to anybody besides himself, and when he only cared about his own being, why would he care about being selfish?

"I suppose I'd better go then. Spending another minute here, listening to your buffoons whistle over a goal being scored really isn't my cup of tea. I'd honestly rather prick out my own eyes than suffer this testosterone-filled agony a second further," drawled the student, his voice full of nothing but irritated venom. Another loud whoop did cause him to cringe further. Clearly, he wasn't a fan of sports, and nor was he a fan of loud, unnecessary cheers. And these men were apparently involved in some well-established and infamous gang that weren't just a bunch of lowlifes synonymous with Ramsay's gang. They were supposedly better than that.

In Valentino's eyes, they weren't exactly acting like the refined men he assumed would be 'Royals'. But hey, what did he know? He was just a silly little boy, right?

"Just contact me on the day, I suppose I won't hear from you until then. You continue hanging around these...imbeciles. I honestly think you can find yourself in better company, but you do you, Alexander," he yawned, feigning disinterest easily as he buttoned his coat up and tugged on his gloves, before peeking at him through dull eyes. "I would happily have offered my friendship, but given that night you were happy to use me for information or god knows what, forgive me if I don't overwhelmingly trust you. That's the thing with you lot. Trust isn't the lasting feature."

​
 

Alexander couldn't help but smirk at Valentino's words. Whilst the boasting wasn't appreciated, he had to smile at how big of an ego the young man had. Besides, he understood the plan, so there was no room to complain. "Good to hear," Alexander replied, continuing to smile as he refused to draw attention to the way Valentino liked to gush about himself. A part of the gang leader wondered if he was being serious, or if this was all just a bit of fun. With how Valentino had teased and joked earlier, Alexander wasn't too sure, but he refrained from asking in order to avoid looking like some kind of moron. Though if he thought about it, Alexander assumed that the student was joking. He had to be, didn't he? There was no way he was that far up himself. As glamorous as Valentino's life seemed, Alexander refused to believe that he was that arrogant.

Watching as Valentino rose from his seat and then left the stool out where it was, Alexander let out a quiet huff. He nudged the stool back under the counter, making no effort to hide his slight annoyance with Valentino. It was as if the young man had never done anything himself, and hadn't bothered to learn manners of any kind. At least he shared a similar sense of resentment over sports. Alexander couldn't help but chuckle at Valentino's exaggerated words, shaking his head at how outlandish the student sounded. "At least they're minding their own business," Alexander noted. "Watching football and causing a ruckus is better than them poking around and disrupting me when I'm trying to conduct business." Thinking about it, the Royals could be a pain sometimes. But that was how they were, and it wasn't always malicious or intentional. They were just a close group, and there were times when the line between 'friend' and 'boss' could get a bit blurry for them. Hence why they were currently all gathered at Alexander's home, using his widescreen TV to watch football.

Leading Valentino to the front door, Alexander ignored the sounds coming from the living room and focussed on the student as he grabbed his coat and gloves. "You'll hear from me the day before, but only so I can give you a day's notice. This plan will go into action early in the morning, after all," he told Valentino. "But other than that, don't expect any calls from me unless it's an emergency." He ignored Valentino's comment about the Royals being imbeciles, having heard that rhetoric enough that day. When the topic of Valentino's friendship came up, along with a reminder of the night they met, Alexander was a little surprised, though he kept it under wraps. He had assumed that Valentino didn't trust him all that much – who would trust a gang leader when they knew about their darker side? In the end, it didn't matter too much. As long as trust issues didn't get in the way of the plan, Alexander was fine with having yet another person refuse to trust him entirely. And honestly, friendship wasn't a thing he often dwelled on.

"Friendship isn't a lasting feature either," he said as he opened the front door, standing to the side to allow Valentino to leave. "As long as you trust me enough to go through with all of this, I have no issues with you. Be speaking to you soon, Valentino."

The day had arrived, and Alexander had made sure to wake up early for it. With Ramsay usually heading to the cornershop at about six in the morning, Alexander and those involved in the plan would have to get up even earlier. Any other day, Alexander would have complained about having to wake up before seven, but today was an exception. His alarm had gone off at five, and he had already contacted his subordinates at quarter past. By the time it was quarter to, the men had gotten into position at the car park, ready for Valentino to lure Ramsay over to them. Alexander had also contacted Valentino, telling him of the address of the car park, and notifying him of the white van that the three Royals were in, and telling him that he was to join the Royals in the van once Ramsay was captured and inside. He had called the student the day before at a more reasonable time, making him aware that the plan was set for that day. With any luck, Valentino would be on the scene soon, and the plan would go off without a hitch.

"Any sign of Ramsay?" Alexander texted the lookout, who was stood near the cornershop. The gangster was currently in his basement, having rushed down there not long after waking up in order to skim over the laid-out plans. He had read over those plans about a hundred times already this morning, reminding himself of every little detail – not that he had forgotten anything. Alexander would be lying if he said he didn't feel a tad nervous, despite having the utmost confidence in his men.

A few seconds later, he got a response. "Spotted coming down the street, not far from the car park. On his own. Should be arriving at the shop any time soon now." Letting out a long breath, Alexander hoped that Valentino was ready and in position. He could lure Ramsay in whenever he wanted, whether it be before the man went into the shop or after. But whatever he did, Alexander prayed that he did it well.​

​
 
It had, almost inevitably, been a long few days for the art student.

Not only was there the looming prospect of the plan that, deep down, he was somewhat nervous about, but he did have his own life to be getting on with. In his eyes, and while it may be sheer naivety, Alexander didn't have as much on his plate. He could spend a lot more time planning and cementing the logistics, whereas Valentino had his university work; the trip to Milan that had been brought forward and the utterly exhausting factor of a social life to keep up.

Sure, it all sounded easy and not at all stressful, but for Valentino, it was his idea of hard work. Having been pampered most his life, anything that induced more focus than lounging about immediately was categorised as 'stressful'. And a weekend trip to Milan, in some five-star hotel and sipping on grand wine while at his mother's fashion event was, to him, the epitome of stress.

However, and as much as he hadn't wanted to feel that way, he had been constantly going through the plan in his head, and the worse case scenarios. Obviously, the worst one was it all going terribly wrong. That could culminate itself in Ramsay beating him up to some bloody pulp before he had attracted him across to the van, or Valentino's father finding out about it all.

While he knew his safety from trouble was guaranteed, and he had also ensured the safety of Alexander too, it wouldn't cast him in a favourable light with his father. He knew that, from that moment on, the man would not trust him, not even a little, and that would only make his life far more difficult to lead. He would have his father breathing down his neck, attempting to control where he went and who he befriended. As a twenty year old, that was hardly how he wanted to live his life: with his father protectively interjecting in every little moment of it.

Although, being beaten by Ramsay wasn't exactly an attractive option either.

When the day eventually came, and having to get up at an ungodly hour, he wasn't in the greatest of spirits. Not only was he absolutely exhausted, but by the time he actually arrived on foot to the address Alexander sent him, nerves had kicked in. He would never admit it, of course. If anyone asked him, he would laugh off any accusation of nervousness... even if he knew that this plan at this specific moment all hinged on him.

If he failed to convince Ramsay, then everything would effectively be terrible. He couldn't imaging Alexander taking it too greatly if things went south.

Now, Valentino did look down on smokers and cigarettes. He had only had one or two in his whole life, mostly out of a rare bout of peer pressure, and since then, as he grew and his personality manifested itself into pretension, he did tend to turn his nose up at the 'lower class' activity of smoking. However, it did help to calm his nerves, he remembered that much, and so, as he waited nervously on the corner opposite the store, hidden partially by a parked Range Rover, the decision to light up a cigarette was one he would retrospectively hate himself for, but at the moment, in the present, it was necessary.

And then, just when he felt like his nerves were going to put the whole plan out the window, he spotted Ramsay. Any nervousness faded instantly, replaced with a far more normal hatred for him. His blood boiled and the nonchalant expression broke with a scowl. Just the sight of the man was enough to cause fury - he was pretty much scum in Valentino's eyes, and what the Royals would do to him raised no sympathy on Valentino's end. Ramsay deserved everything he would hopefully receive.

"Oh, look who it is," he cooed tauntingly from the corner, taking a quick peek out into the car park and noting what direction to head to when he inevitably caught Ramsay's attention. "Ramsay Dillon, huh? Long time, no see. I do love to see lowlifes this early in the day, it just makes my morning, it honestly does. It reminds me just how fortunate I am to lead a fulfilling life."​
 
Status
Not open for further replies.
Top Bottom
Back