Marcella's said this before a thousand times, bitten out furiously, snarled between her teeth, while her hands clench into fists. Her brother Claudio has been a constant source of fury through her life; he's obnoxious and rude and stupid and he doesn't know how to run the business but he thinks that just because he's a man he's the reason the family is thriving. He's not.
But she's not thinking about business right now, she's thinking about Carla, which explains why this time she's not snapping out waspish, unfulfillable threats about her brother. This time she means it.
The bathwater is still at exactly the right temperature and Alastor has his hands in her hair. She has a sip of wine, and then tips her head back to look at him and says, "I could do it. Easily. He wouldn't see it coming."
Alastor has just finished trimming the ends from Marcella's long hair, and is now painstakingly washing it, an indulgent ritual he's developed specifically to have Marcella's ear all to himself. Most Saluccis don't interest him so much; he absolutely has favorites, and so far Marcella has proven to be the cream of the crop. It's a shame, he thinks, that the line isn't likely to continue through her, but her influence can only make things more interesting.
So if she plans to carve a weak branch or two off the family tree, he sees no reason to discourage her.
"Wearing a dress makes you practically invisible. Might as well make it work for your benefit."
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Marcella's said this before a thousand times, bitten out furiously, snarled between her teeth, while her hands clench into fists. Her brother Claudio has been a constant source of fury through her life; he's obnoxious and rude and stupid and he doesn't know how to run the business but he thinks that just because he's a man he's the reason the family is thriving. He's not.
But she's not thinking about business right now, she's thinking about Carla, which explains why this time she's not snapping out waspish, unfulfillable threats about her brother. This time she means it.
The bathwater is still at exactly the right temperature and Alastor has his hands in her hair. She has a sip of wine, and then tips her head back to look at him and says, "I could do it. Easily. He wouldn't see it coming."
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Alastor has just finished trimming the ends from Marcella's long hair, and is now painstakingly washing it, an indulgent ritual he's developed specifically to have Marcella's ear all to himself. Most Saluccis don't interest him so much; he absolutely has favorites, and so far Marcella has proven to be the cream of the crop. It's a shame, he thinks, that the line isn't likely to continue through her, but her influence can only make things more interesting.
So if she plans to carve a weak branch or two off the family tree, he sees no reason to discourage her.
"Wearing a dress makes you practically invisible. Might as well make it work for your benefit."