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Blood Red Luna

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Your name is Rose Strider-Lalonde, and you are about two minutes from securing the biggest deal of your life.

You toss a glance towards your brother. He stands a ways away from you, and crossed and his aviators perched perfectly on the bridge of his nose, shielding his eyes from sight. A tall, slender blonde stands across from him. Good. This is where he should be. Getting the senators wife involved will be the deciding factor in your success. Through research, you’ve come to the conclusion that she’s not a happy woman. Her marriage is slowly decomposing under the pressure of the media, just like so many cases you’ve seen before, and you know that a tall, well built blonde boy will be exactly what she needs to let her guard down.

You notice a subtle nod from Dave. Maybe he’s meeting your eyes; you wouldn’t know, but whatever the case, all is going according to plan. Your turn.

You turn back to the man before you, who seems to tower over you. He’s probably not that large really. It’s only how short you are that makes it seem that way. For the past five minutes, he’s been going on about himself. You have heard about 20% of it, but you get the gist. I’m handsome, I like you, and I am so god damn rich. He finishes and smiles. You take note of a gold tooth shining under the party lights. I wonder how much that’s worth. Focus. You take a deep breath.


“Mr. English, that’s all so interesting. My mother has been looking into your business for quite some time now, and I must say- you are just intriguing.”
He grins at you again. You smile back, and perform a memorized puckering of the lips which you know is undeniably sexy. Pretend not to notice him breaking eye contact for a moment, glancing down at more important things. Slowly walk your fingers up his shoulder. Ignore how warm he is. 
“I believe that you’ll find our relationship... very rewarding.” Your phrasing gets the point across quite clearly, and he licks his lips. Time to tie the knot.
“So, Mr. English. Would you care to join the Strider-Lalonde empire?” He meets your eyes. You bat your eyelashes once, twice...
He extends a hand towards you, and you take it, smirking. His fingers are calloused with age, yours smooth with the help of about 5 types of lotion. After a good 5 seconds, you release his hand.
“I look forward to our correspondence.”

And with that, you turn around, blonde hair lightly bouncing around your chin. Oh no. You frown. Dave is gone. The only trace of him is a door closing and a dress shoe disappearing behind the wood.
“Seems as though my work isn’t completely done.”

You slink your way over to the table housing the alcohol. Men begin to stare at you, while you stare at your watch, pretending not to notice where the attention now lies. The clock reads 11:54. You’ll give the woman who’s stolen him away 2 minutes. Their sloppy makeup should take about one, and getting that no doubt far-too-right dress off of the wife should take another. Just enough time to save Dave, but still secure the fact that she’ll want to invest with you and he.
You look around to pass the time. Golden lights illuminate the large ballroom with a glowing aura. What you wonder is whether it’s more one of danger or desire. You cast a glance towards the men, who quickly look away from your exposed thigh. Probably a bit of both. The clock reads 11:55 now. One more minute till you make your escape.
The mansion belongs to the man who you’ve just conned into handing over a good portion of his family fortune. Your mother, who calls herself Lady Lalonde, tasked you and your stepbrother with the mission of making a deal with Lord English. After an exchange of information, the work will be handed over to Roxy and Dirk. This is how things work in the family business. You and Dave are the informants, and your cousins are the ones who get in and out of their bank accounts without a trace. Their work is not easier by any means. But is it certainly a bit less... sacrificial.

Speaking of sacrifices, it’s 11:56. You approach the door, and give 3 sharp knocks. From inside the room, you hear a scuffling- it’s a wonder that her antics haven’t been discovered already. Then again, based on the way Lord English had been staring at you so hungrily, maybe it’s not much of a secret to him at all. The door opens, and a familiar face emerges. You look him over. Messy hair, yes, but his lack of misaligned buttons and the fact that his pants are still on properly tells you that she must not have gotten too far.
You smile up at him. “Redo your tie, Dave. It’s time to go.” He nods and says nothing. You pretend not to notice the pink dusting his cheeks and the how tight his shoulders have become.
You walk in sync with one another as you make your leave. Your signature black lipstick smile in addition with his stony gaze sends a clear message to those around you. Don’t fuck with the Strider-Lalondes.