#rinaldi cartel

[thisislakewood]

→ IN CHARACTER INFORMATION

Character Name: Thea Collins.

Character Age: 32 years old.

Faceclaim Choice: Alicia Vikander.

Gender and Pronouns: cis female she/her

Birthplace: New York, NY

Birthday: November 23, 1987

Occupation: Undercover Cop

Family: Civilian/Against the Rinaldi’s

Position:  Associate.

→ BIOGRAPHY

Like Harry Potter swaddled in a basket and left on a doorstep with just an envelope with ‘Thea’ inscribed on the front as her identity–she grew up in the foster care system in New York City. As anyone who would make the most out of the situation, Thea naturally developed a chip on her shoulder. Being passed from family to family, Thea eventually didn’t care to find out who her real parents were from the prime example her caretakers had displayed. The world showed her from infancy that people were unreliable and only looked out for themselves. Especially for foster families seeking validation and how easy it was for them to collect children for money while Thea and her foster siblings struggled to make a life for themselves.

Overtime she became resourceful, finding ways to sell belongings that wouldn’t go noticed, groceries here and there, anything to scrounge up a little bit of money for her future and to get the hell out of the system she was in. To her surprise, one of the last families that had taken her in actually adopted her at the age of 16, having noticed her resourcefulness and desire to change the life she was living. Her adoptive father, a mechanic, bonded with her through automobiles and motorcycles, teaching her how to hotwire if she ever got into a bind, anything she wanted to know in order to connect with his daughter. Especially in a city as dark and sinister as New York City could be. Her adoptive mother was a police officer, rarely home due to long hours, but when she was home she entertained Thea with stories of her day at work, and also the days of her coworkers who had more thrills out in the field.

Two people who took the time to share their passions and gradually helped Thea to find her own again–they changed her mindset, and Thea realized that she could be anything she wanted. With her parents help, she finished school, graduating at the age of 18 with her peers. A celebration that was short-lived. A week later, while visiting family in Lakewood, TX, a shootout between two rival mob cartels, her mother was fatally shot in the crossfire. It was then that Thea’s fate was decided for her–she would join the police force and single-handedly take down the cartel that had killed her mother.

It took 4 excruciatingly long years for Thea to earn her Bachelor’s Degree in Law Enforcement and for her to be able to join the police academy, an agreement that had been between her and her father. Three years for her to think and not jump at the chance of revenge. However, Thea’s sole focus was making her mother proud and avenging her death. A razor-sharp mind when it came to the police system, Thea became an expert marksman, loved the hand-to-hand training–though she imagined the day she took down the cartels without blood on her hands. Her sole request was to be an undercover cop, specifically with the cartel violence going on in Lakewood. During her debriefing, and intense training in order to blend in, Thea learned the name of the cartel that had actually killed her mother. …or so they assume.

She joined the Rinaldi’s, gaining their trust through a backstory that stemmed from her real life, and went through the entire initiation sequence in order to be accepted. When a spot opened up, Thea requested to be an Associate, not quite directly involved and it made it easy for Thea to tag along and observe instead of being right there in the middle of the action. Ten years goes by in the blink of an eye, and there are times Thea finds herself losing her mindset on the mission she started. The Rinaldi’s are a strong group with familial bonds, who make the cartel life seem almost normal, but Thea needs to keep her focus. Because if she slips up or loses herself, how will she be able to take down the cartel that had actually pulled the trigger?

→ PERSONALITY SUMMARY

Three (3) Positive Traits: Resourceful, intuitive, cautious Three (3) Negative Traits: Melancholy, compulsive, obsessive

#alicia vikander #oc rp #town rp #small town rp #semi appless rp #taken #rinaldi cartel

[rinaldinferno]

@elisabethrinaldi

Lakewood. It seemed weird coming back to this place, but Dante knew it had to be done--especially if the rumors are true of his brother’s return with his eyes on the throne. 

He had heard the stories of the transition back into civilian life, that it is harder then transitioning into a soldier for the military. In Dante’s case though it was hard at first with him becoming a soldier due to his scrawny figure, but he did bulk up in time. He showed his military brothers and sisters of what a fighter he was underneath it all--someone who doesn’t give up and is too stubborn to give in. Joining the military though it was something Dante had wanted for it was a breathe of fresh air to him with no cartel business or Rinaldis’ around him. Of course he didn’t tell a soul of his enlistment until after it had already happened. He didn’t fear of his father’s or any of his siblings reactions, oh no--the one person he feared was his mother. Dante wanted to make her proud and show her he isn’t going down the same dark path as his older brother. Not only did the military changed Dante physically but mentally as well. Underneath the common traits of a Rinaldi he showed how selfless and valiant he can be along with what a leader he can be. 

The sailor nodded at the maid as she took his duffle bags before asking him if he would like to be announced. He placed his leather jacket on the coat rack and in his hands he held a bouquet of white roses. “No, I got it, darlin’.” Dante winked at the young maid and watched as she scurried off with a blush on her lips. His eyes scanned the area around him and saw not much as changed at home. There were pictures hung high on the wall of the family. Dante felt a shiver go up his spine seeing a photo of him before he had joined the military. There’s the old me, he thought. The young Rinaldi was happy he is no longer that scrawny kid nor will he ever be again. 

Shaking the memories of his teenage years out of his head, Dante ventured out into his home before finding himself standing before a set of doors. Not just any doors though. The doors to his mother’s office. A room Dante was very familiar with from a young age. It was the room he would shut himself in to hide away from the world just for a little while. Clearing his throat, Dante knocked on the wood softly and waited to hear the voice of his mother. Running a hand through his blond locks he wanted to make himself look somewhat presentable despite the major jet lag he is currently feeling. Turning the doorknob Dante opens the door to see her, Elisabeth Rinaldi, his mother after so long. 

“Hello mother,” Dante smiled at her. “I’m home.” He walks forth to her desk and places the flowers before her. “I uh...brought you your favorite flowers.” The man can still remember it all as if it were yesterday with him telling her of his enlistment and that it is already done. “I see some things haven’t changed.” He motions to her sitting at her desk. 

#dante&&elisabeth: it seems the wickedness is hereditary. #i hope this is okay!

[thisislakewoodnews]

        If you didn’t see it, you probably wouldn’t believe it.

Or you’d blame the same cartels that caused an uproar within town, if you’d been here long enough to know where to point the blame.

But the matter of the fact was this: if there was a reason eight blacked out Escalades were driving down the center strip in town, heading towards old Hollygrove Manor, you’d wonder—what the fuck was this about? Was someone coming to play? Was an original Castro member coming home? Couldn’t be—Maria Castro-Reyes never left. Some believed the real matriarch of the Castro cartel would live to a hundred and one, stick both middle fingers up and tell her enemies to burn in hell before she croaked on the spot.

Again, these are the thoughts of civilians who have lived here long enough.

But it still didn’t make sense. The rushing parade of black drew people out from the shops, those basking in the heavenly glow of another endless sunny day were pulled from their conversation. Some stood. Some stopped in their tracks and considered to question the presence in front of them.

But the cars drove on.

Within one sat a man, the files skewed across the seat within the back of the car, as his companion sat in the front. Names. All four of them, all of the powerhouses that had slipped into the underworld—but their families remained here.

Jack Parker could not be convinced otherwise that these four weren’t in on the family business.

Giada Rinaldi’s weight within Messina was considered inoperable. Twelve men trying to serve her papers ended up being twelve bodies they had to ship back to grieving families.

Samuel Stone had decided to ‘retire’ within the masses of Mexico City—where, as expected, the weight of the heavy-hitting Don was enough to know getting close to him didn’t end in a rainfall of bullets from both sides. It seemed old man Stone was still willing to risk the lives of everyone around him.

Jack flipped the page, revealing the other two.

Manuel Almeida had passed, but his father lived on, the Isle of Sao Miguel untouchable to those who were not commoners. There was no hot spring his boys could hide in, commit surveillance without Jose Manuel himself peeking out from his hovel and slitting his boy’s throat.

That one was a hard pill to swallow. Bullets and punching—fine. Anything else was harrowing.

Last—never least.

Maria Castro-Reyes. Parked right the fuck in town, nothing to hide. She was the matriarch, the last of a century’s worth of criminals. Powerful, beautiful. She had the makings of a politician, Jack considered in a dark thought, given how the woman lived a cut-throat life. Cold. Calculated. Willing to risk it all, but there was the inkling that, like the Castro’s he had studied in files upon files before him—she was willing to draw the line at family.

Maybe that’s where he would start.

Infiltration wasn’t his idea, he considered, as the approach of the car to the home converted for their use slowed to a stop. Some of them wouldn’t hide. He wouldn’t. Couldn’t. Face seen by the funeral director. And the fleet of cars with blacked out windows hid the crew of men and women from all walks of life willing to do the unthinkable.

Stepping out of the truck, sunglasses poised on the bridge of his nose, as he looked around his crew. “Start unpackin’ the computers and surveillance first boys—we’re gonna finalize the plan and start infiltrating the cartels in town.”

             Jack Parker planned to flip this town on its head.

OOC NOTE:

Players, please note: the FBI is now in town. 🤗

It is up to players to decide if their character was told by someone else or seen for themselves the cars passing through.

#lakewood: plot drop

[elisabethrinaldi-blog]

fight like a girl

@ravennarinaldi

In the night the Texan skies rained bullets and broken glass, it wasn’t a stray shard that had made Elisabeth Rinaldi bleed. 

It was her husband. 

She only noticed when she remember to unclench her fists: long, red-painted nails had bitten into the flesh of a palm so mercilessly they had cut it open. And then they ask why I wear gloves all the time. Jaw set, she wiped her left hand off her once-silver dress. Like it mattered. It was ruined anyway. The crowd in the main area parted to let her pass, some crying, some still drinking. Several badly wounded. Most on their phones. Elisabeth didn’t give a flying fuck. She was seething, and hoping they all bleed to death.

You’re going home. That had been all. Vittorio had dared send her away, dismiss her as though she was one of their soldatos. A bitter scoff tumbled out after she’d attempted Valentina’s number again. Nothing. Perhaps that was the part where Signor Rinaldi’s sweet, loyal, peaches and cream wifey indeed obeyed.

The Vice President of the Rinaldi Cartel, however, had different plans.

She found Ravenna by their booth, hissing instructions at Carlo. That moron pointed at a spot on the floor plan, which caused her sister-in-law to roll her eyes so dramatically Elisabeth almost smiled. She approached, features relaxing, scattered screen cracking underneath her shoes.

“Vittorio’s fine,” she said matter-of-factly, squeezed Ravenna’s forearm in reassurance. Whose, it was hard to tell. “He can take care of himself, and I’m sure Carlo here will find a way to save your husband too. Peter’s off on a task, my other son at home, he just called. That leaves the girls.” She had seen Aurora and Bianca earlier, which was good: they had to be somewhere close. But Valentina wouldn’t even answer her darned phone. Elisabeth wasn’t the kind of mother that envisioned her offspring kidnapped, murdered, and skinned alive after two missed calls—her own phone blowing up the very second she managed to skedaddle, she understood the temptation to just chunk it somewhere—but this was so unlike Val. No, that girl picked up before the first ring even ended. The thought of her gentle, ridiculous, can’t-take-two-steps-without-tripping child amid that mess, all alone… And Aurora, her baby still. Bianca, tougher than both of them combined, yes, but more likely to grow an alicorn than keep her mouth shut. Lord. I have to do everything myself. Elisabeth huffed, then added, voice perfectly calm, “I’m goin’ to get them.”

There was no need to ask whether Ravenna wanted to come along, the staccato of her sister-in-law’s steps at her heel matching her own confident strides the second she turned around. What she hadn’t foreseen was the figure blocking the exit. Fuck.

A mass of muscles and fat, broader than he was tall, but still tall enough for Elisabeth to have to tilt her chin upwards to face him. Hair the color of coal, eyes even darker. Black and ogling. The last time they had seen each other, at a summer barbecue hosted by the Almeidas, he had shamelessly stared at her bare legs the whole afternoon. Rinaldi’s one lucky bastard, had been his answer to her polite goodbye, hand gripping her waist in the pretense of getting her out of his way. Elisabeth cringed at the memory. She hadn’t worn that skirt since.

“Jerónimo,” she greeted, a firm, graceful nod in his direction. Please evaporate.

Jerónimo Reyes spat. “Putas italianas.”

And then he launched himself at her.

#lakewood: black rabbit #( event 002. ) #( ravenna rinaldi. ) #( ravenna: you know my heart by heart. ) #harassment tw #slurs tw #violence tw

[anavoliselenu]

i take thee chapter 9

“Is he answering?” Dante asks someone.

“Nothing yet. Calls are going right to voice mail. He must have his phone off.”

“Charlie,” Dante says as I’m loaded into something. Whoever is lifting the stretcher is not careful but I’m drifting again. “Do you have my uncle’s private number? My phone is dead, and I don’t remember it.”

A sense of dread washes over me. Why is he trying to call him? He shouldn’t. I need to warn him but I’m not sure why.

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“We’ll wait to call him when Justin is awake and alert,” Charlie says.

“Fuck that. Fuck. He needs to know he’s alive. Fuck!”

“It can wait. He can wait.”

“No, he can’t.”

“What’s the urgency, Dante?”’

That dread is back.

“David sends his regards.”

I swallow. Even that fucking hurts. “No.” It comes out a groan as I fight whatever has me in this sleep state.

“Cris?” Dante asks. We’re in a moving vehicle. I feel that much. “Come on, man. I thought you were fucking dead. Please wake the fuck up!”

“Dante. Take it easy,” the doctor says. “He’ll wake up soon. I gave him something to hurry it along as much as I safely can.”

“How long?” Dante asks.

“Couple of hours.”

“We may not have a couple of hours.”

“We’ll get him to the island. To his own bed. Selena being there will help,” Charlie says.

Selena.

“If you die, she dies.”

I feel my hands fist at least a little. It feels like that time I heard Lenore and David talking. I was waking up. It was a memory. I know now. I’m sure.

Betrayed. He betrayed me twice. But why did he let me live? Why not kill me, too? Why not kill Dante and me both?

“She’s not there,” my brother says, his tone more quiet.

“What do you mean she’s not there?” Charlie asks.

The vehicle takes a turn. I swear I feel every fucking thing in my side where Rinaldi managed to stab me before I killed him.

“Dante?” It’s Charlie again.

“David took her. We thought he was dead. Someone told him Rinaldi had killed Justin and he took her.”

David has Selena?

“Took her where?” Charlie asks.

“Fuck.” Silence. Weighted silence I can feel. “I don’t know.”

Something begins to beep frantically, and I feel hands on me, the doctor telling Dante and Charlie to back off.

“He said he knew exactly what to do with her,” Dante says so quietly that I almost don’t hear.

“You let him take your brother’s wife?”

“I thought…he told me Cris was dead! I thought she’d betrayed him. Tipped off Rinaldi. I thought…Fuck!”

30

Selena

I blink my eyes open, looking up at the ceiling of a dimly lit, small room. It takes me a moment to remember what happened. To remember that Justin is dead. And that his brother handed me off to David who will now sell me back to the cartel.

This is my punishment because they think I betrayed Justin.

Not that either of them would have let me live, even if I could have convinced them that I hadn’t. They hate me because I am a De La Cruz.

At least Noah is safe. But is he? How long has it been? Is he still in Naples waiting for me to come?

I turn my head to look around the room. I’m alone but there’s a camera set up directly across from the bed. The red light is blinking. I’m either being recorded or someone’s watching me now.

There’s a chair in the far corner and two doors, both closed. The wooden doors are old, splintering. This whole place feels forgotten. A red neon light blinks outside from a street sign. The ratty yellowed lace curtain, only half-hanging off the rod, barely filters the red light as raindrops tap softly on the glass.

I try to pull my arm in, but I can’t. I look up to find my right wrist is handcuffed to the bed.

At least I’m not naked. That’s something, right?

“Hell, if he’s really smart, if he really wants to make that example hit home, maybe he’ll just have the men line up and take turns. Just think about that.”

My eyes fall on that camera again.

Maybe he already sold me. Maybe Felix has me here awaiting my fate, the camera ready to record every minute of my degradation. Ready to broadcast for anyone who misses the live show.

I shudder, sit up, drawing my knees in toward my body. It’s cold in the room. My arm hurts where he gave me the shot and a tiny bruise has formed. But that’s the least of my problems.

This can’t be about me anymore. I’m dead, I know that. The only thing standing between me and death was Justin and he’s gone. I can’t think about that now. I can’t think about the loss of him.

At least I got Noah out, I tell myself again. Turning my face away from the camera so they don’t see the few tears slip out before I can stop them.

What had David said? There’s an auction.

Is it the same auction that boat of women was heading to? Women and girls. And Lenore’s granddaughter, Mara is there. If David is telling the truth, that is. Why wouldn’t he, though? Why would he lie about that? There’s no reason to lie to me about it.

But he knew about Mara all along and never told Justin or Dante or even Lenore? He knew she was alive?

No. It’s worse than that. He’d planned it. They’d just screwed up and taken the wrong little girl.

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He’d planned for Elizabeth to be kidnapped. Justin’s little sister. His niece. Which means he was involved in their massacre.

Why?

I drop my head, shake it. The why doesn’t matter, not anymore. Did Justin find out at least? Before he died? No. He couldn’t have.

I steel myself and raise my head. No time to mourn. I look straight at the camera. Straight at the cowards on the other side of it.

I can die quietly. Or I can try to do something to help Mara. To help those women. To avenge Justin at least a little.

So, I settle into my seat. I look straight into that lens and I plot, raising my middle finger at whoever is watching.

Because I’ll fight.

Because I’ve never been the quiet type.

31

Justin

I don’t know how long I fight for. All I know is every time I regain a modicum of consciousness, I’m right back where I was when I heard Dante. Charlie. Right back to fighting this fog.

David has Selena.

Those are the three words that repeat in my head every time I feel the weight of life. Of waking. That and dread. Dread for her.

Something cold and wet touches the back of my hand. I turn my head toward whatever it is even though I can’t yet open my eyes. That cold and wet turns warm and soft and I realize it’s Cerberus. He’s nuzzling his head into my hand.

I feel myself smile just a little. This one comfort. I move my fingers as much as I can, and he must feel it because I hear him whine then let out a small bark.

“Justin?”

Keeping my hand cupped around Cerberus’s head, I draw my other arm up. It feels like I’m dragging it through mud.

“Fuck,” Dante mutters, but I hear his relief.

I touch my face, my head. And somehow, I force my eyelids to open. I see my brother peering down at me, his hair a mess like he’s been running his hands through it for hours. Shadows darken the skin beneath his eyes. He hasn’t slept.

“How much time?” I ask as I try to push myself up to a seat. It’s fucking impossible. My side hurts like a mother fucker. I push through it and Dante adjusts the pillow then hands me a glass of water.

“Three nights since you killed Rinaldi.”

“He’s dead.” It’s a fact. I don’t need confirmation. I will never forget his eyes. I won’t forget the feel of the knife cutting into his throat.

“Yeah. He’s dead,” Dante confirms anyway.

I take a sip of the water then push it away. I look at Cerberus who is half sitting by the bed, tail wagging behind him as he nuzzles his nose into the palm of my hand. I pet him but turn to my brother.

“Selena,” I say.

He runs his hands through his hair again. Turns away momentarily. “He stabbed you where you’d been shot. It’s why it’s so bad.”

“Selena.” I think about how she calls me a Neanderthal. I sound like one.

Dante turns back to me, expression dark. “Gone.”

“Of her own free will?” I’m not sure why I ask. I know the answer.

He shakes his head. “David took her.”

“And you let him?”

He has the decency to look down. “Charlie told me what he thinks about David. But it can’t be true, Cris. He wouldn’t do anything against us.”

I push the blanket off. The pain when I swing my legs off the bed causes the room to go black for a minute.

“You’re in no shape—”

“It was him,” I cut Dante off, shove his hand away and grip the edge of the nightstand. “It was him who ordered it.”

“Ordered what?”

I stand. Stop again. Wait for the room to stop spinning. I press my hand to my side. It feels hot but a glance down confirms it’s not bleeding.

“Ordered what?” Dante asks again this time through gritted teeth. Because he’s got to have put some things together too if Charlie talked to him.

I look at my brother. I swear there’s more gray around his temples. Fuck. He’s only twenty-six.

“He was behind it. He ordered it. He murdered our family.”

Dante’s eyes betray his emotion, betray what he knows deep down, but he closes them, shakes his head. “No, Brother. Rinaldi lied to you.”’

“He knew that bastard had—” I stop. Dante doesn’t know about the rape. I hadn’t realized my uncle knew and he’d been so smooth in covering up how when I’d questioned him.

“No, Justin.”

I walk to my closet, pull on the first pair of jeans I see along with a T-shirt. It hurts like fucking hell when I raise my arm to do it. I pull on socks and a pair of boots.

“Where did he take Selena?” I ask him when I’m back in the bedroom and open the drawer where I keep one of the Glocks. I slip the holstered weapon onto my shoulder before pulling on a jacket.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” my brother asks.

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“I’m going to get my wife.” I change direction, head toward him. “Where did he take her?”

He doesn’t back away. “You can’t go anywhere. You need to heal.”

I get in his face. “You let him take my wife.”

“She betrayed you!”

“She did not! And I told you that you don’t lay a fucking finger on her, not if I’m alive and not if I’m dead. You knew that. You promised me you’d protect her. You fucking promised me.”

He doesn’t back down, not at first. But then steps back, drops to a seat on the chair and wraps one hand around the back of his neck before shifting his gaze out the window.

There’s a knock on the door then and Antonio opens it, the expression on his face urgent.

He stops just inside the door when he sees us.

“Justin,” he starts, looking me over. “Are you—”

“I’m fine.”

“I have a location in Rotterdam.”

“Fuck,” Dante says.

I only glance at him. I’m so pissed at him I could kill him.

“Is my wife there?”

“There’s some buzz that would suggest she is or will be soon.”

“And my uncle. Where exactly is he?”

“The plane he took landed at a private airfield outside of Rotterdam three nights ago,” Dante answers.

We both turn to him. “I had it tracked.”

“Why?” I ask. “Why would you do that if you don’t believe he’d betray us?”

“I don’t fucking know.” Dante shakes his head, runs his hand through his messy hair yet again.

“You do fucking know.”

“He’s always done right by me. By us.”

“No, Brother. He hasn’t. And he owes me some answers.” I turn to Antonio. “Have you arranged transportation?”

He nods once.

“And Noah? Any sign?”

“Tunnel was accessed recently,” Antonio says. I told him where to look. “The vehicle you mentioned on the other side gone.”

“Good.”

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“You want me to put men out looking for him?”

“No. Better if the kid disappears.”

“All right.”

“Let’s go.”

“I’m coming with you,” Dante says.

I stop, look back at him. “Why?”

“Because if you’re right then Uncle David owes me answers too.”

“Fine. But if you get in my way, I’ll fucking hurt you, brother or not.”

“Understood.”

Antonio walks out first and just before I step away, Dante puts a hand on my arm. “I’m sorry. I just thought…I thought I’d lost you again.”

I pull my arm away. “You can apologize to my wife when we get her back and we’d better get her back. Alive.”

32

Selena

A woman brings me food and water. Each time she keeps her eyes cast down and is let inside by a different man. He stands at the door with his hand on the key in the lock as she clears out one dish to swap it out for another.

I eat a little bit of the stale bread but leave the cold meat. The scent of which makes my stomach turn. It looks to be leftovers someone else didn’t finish. I drink all the water, which I’m grateful is bottled.

I realize the bucket beside the bed is my toilet. My cuffed arm just allows me access to it and when I have to pee, I try not to think of the camera.

I’ve spent two nights here, I guess, assuming that I was knocked out only for a few hours. When I woke up it was already dark. I can hear noise on the street if I concentrate. I think we’re in a city, but this house or at least my room is up high enough and must be tucked out of the way enough, that I have to strain my ears to hear it.

It’s the morning of the third day that I hear different voices.

David’s is one. He’s speaking English. The other one I recognize too. I heard it the morning Jacob kidnapped me and took me to that pier.

“Cover her for fuck’s sake.”

I shudder at the memory of Jacob’s blood splattering across my face and remember the scent of the jacket that someone had draped over my shoulders. The door opens just as I place the voice.

Felix Pérez stands in the doorway of the decrepit room. He finishes what he was saying, a smile easy on his face when he takes in first the surroundings and then me.

He steps inside and David follows.

Felix looks different than I remember him, but it’s been so many years. He’s still as short, just a little over five and a half feet. And he’s losing his hair. I notice when he walks inside, glancing at my bucket before crossing the room to look out of the window, that a bald spot has begun to form at the crown of his head. I wonder if he realizes it. Do men realize when they start to go bald? I mean, it’s not like they see that part of their head.

He has his jacket draped over his shoulders. His suit is a worn-out beige, the style about a decade old. It looks like a knock off. Like him. An imposter in a stolen role. He’s also grown softer around the middle. I notice the paunch when he turns back to face me.

So different from Justin in every way.

Justin.

My heart sinks a little deeper at the thought of him. He’s gone. I’ll never see him again.

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“You were at the dock,” I say.

He nods.

“Did you have Jacob killed?”

“Do you miss him? I thought you’d be grateful.”

“You ordered it.”

“I didn’t need both him and Marcus. Marcus was more useful at the time,” he says, glancing at David with a sly grin, making me wonder what that exchange is about.

“Are you hurt, Cousin?” Felix asks.

His question causes my focus back to him and he’s cocked his head to look at my face. He has his hands in his pockets. A heavy watch and gold chains crowd both wrists. I remember how much he liked to show off anything gold. Remember how my dad found it so distasteful, found Felix distasteful, like Jacob. The one comment that still comes to mind was about how real men didn’t need to prove themselves with displays of wealth or status. That only those who didn’t belong needed so hard to fit in.

“I don’t know that we’re technically cousins,” I say. Probably not the smartest thing to say.

“By marriage.” He shrugs a shoulder. “I thought you might appreciate having family in your time of need.”

“Are you demented?”

He smiles. “You are ungrateful.” His accent is strong.

David clears his throat. “We good?” he asks.

Felix shifts his gaze to David only momentarily. “Are you hurt, Cousin?” he asks as he comes closer.

Without waiting for my reply, he takes my jaw in one hand and tilts my face up to his before brushing hair back from my forehead.

“Some bruising,” he comments. “It’ll take the price down, of course. Damaged goods.”

I tug my face out of his hands. “Don’t touch me.”

He grins, grips my jaw again, tighter this time. “Does she have all her teeth?” he asks and gestures to David with a nod of his head. David takes hold of both sides of my head while Felix pries my mouth open. I’d bite off his fingers if I could, but I can’t at the angle they’re holding me.

He makes a satisfied sound.

“Not a virgin though,” he says, still peering inside my mouth like I’m some animal. “Virgins bring in more money.”

“That’s on your father-in-law,” David says. “Nothing I can do about that.”

“Sick man,” Felix comments casually. Did everyone know what Uncle Jacob had done to me? Did they just stand back and let it happen?

“Anal virgin?” he asks, releasing my mouth, pulling his fingers away before my teeth snap shut.

I tug at my bound arm but of course it’s no use so I draw my head back as he starts to discuss the possibilities of selling that particular part of my anatomy, and spit in his face.

He stops talking, that smug grin instantly wiped away.

My heart races even as I try for a victorious smile.

David mutters a curse. Felix first uses the back of his hand to wipe off my spit on his right cheekbone, then backhands me so hard with that same hand that I fall back on the bed. My head crashes against the wall, then the metal railing, the blow stunning me.

I feel the warmth of blood rolling down my cheek.

He straightens, adjusts his jacket over his shoulder, his expression of rage morphing back into a false smile. For a single instant I see the real Felix Pérez. And it terrifies me.

“Apologize!” David orders me.

Felix raises a hand. “No need,” he says. “I expect no less from a De La Cruz. They’re animals. I’d pour the contents of that bucket over your head but then I’d have to smell you.” He checks his watch. “Speaking of, we’re on a tight schedule.”

“We have a deal?” David asks.

“What deal?” I ask.

They both ignore me. Felix punches some numbers into his phone and turns it around to show David, who nods.

Felix calls to one of the men at the door, the one with the keys. He undoes my cuff from the rung of the headboard and re-cuffs my arms behind my back. He lifts me to stand, almost making me knock the bucket over as I do.

“Where are we going?” I ask Felix or David or anyone who will answer. I’m marched out of the room, noticing the apartment we’re in, where two more men sit in the kitchen eating hamburgers. The TV playing in the background is in a language I don’t understand. Sounds like German.

I’m taken down the stairs, the man simply dragging me along when I trip or don’t move fast enough, before we’re outside.

It’s noisy beyond the alley where an SUV is waiting. It blocks my view of the street, of the people walking and the cars driving by, oblivious to what’s happening here in this dark corner of their world.

The windows of the SUV are tinted an opaque black. I can’t even make out how many people are inside.

I’m barefoot. I hadn’t really thought about it when I’d been in that room but the puddles of water on the street chill me as one of the doors is opened. I’m lifted up and placed in the back seat.

Felix climbs into the passenger seat and turns around as I’m strapped in by a woman who looks a lot like the one Marcus employed to prepare me for our wedding. She’s sitting between me and one other passenger. A girl.

Did Your Mom Ever Make the Paper? Search Newspapers.com

Did Your Mom Ever Make the Paper? Search Newspapers.com

Newspaper.com

He glances at me, then over to her. “I’m sorry she smells, sweetheart. She wasn’t bathed, I’m sure. You know those thugs.”

I look at the girl in the shadowy car, the red lights blinking illuminating her only momentarily. She has long blonde hair, I see that. And huge crystal blue eyes. She leans around the woman to peer at me but doesn’t speak and her expression doesn’t change. Just huge, frightened eyes on me.

“She doesn’t smell so bad,” the girl says flatly, her accent American.

“You’re too sweet, my little doll,” Felix says, reaching his arm back to caress her face.

She shrinks back a little, but one cluck of his tongue and she leans her face into his hand. She’s young. I see it now when the light from the street shines on her face. Fifteen or sixteen maybe and small.

I want to slap his hand away. I want to make him stop touching her.

“I’ll miss you,” he says to her.

She turns her head to look out the window.

“What do you say, Lizzie?” he asks.

Lizzie?

I peer more closely.

She turns back to him, same huge eyes a little shinier in the light. “I’ll miss you too,” she whispers but inside that whisper, I hear a hint of steel. Just a hint.

Felix smiles then as quickly as he’d struck me, he shifts his grip to twist a fistful of her hair painfully pulling her toward him.

The girl makes a sound but nothing else.

“Again,” he commands.

“I’ll miss you too, Felix. Very much.” No steel this time. It’s melted away. I guess ten years will do that to you.

“Good girl,” he says, releasing her.

She looks down at her fisted hands in her lap. The woman between us unhooks something from her belt, unravels it. It’s a leather strap, about six inches long. She raises it, crashes it down over the girl’s hands.

I gasp, shocked.

The girl makes a sound but catches herself, swallows it down and releases her fists, laying them flat on her lap. I watch the angry red line form across the tops.

“Better,” the woman says.

The girl remains silent, but I catch how her eyes shift to mine momentarily. She must be afraid to get caught. They’ve trained her.

Felix looks at me. He gives me a grin. “Get comfortable. We’ve got a long ride.” He turns back in his seat and switches on the radio to a station playing Spanish music.

33

Justin

The private jet lands in Rotterdam a few hours later. The flight was tense, to say the least, my brother quiet. He knows he did wrong. But I can’t forgive him. Not yet.

Two cars wait for us at the airfield. Antonio, Dante and I climb into one, Dante sitting in the passenger seat.

“House is in the city. About thirty kilometers from here.”

“You’ve got eyes on it?”

Antonio nods. “Only for the last couple of hours though. There are definitely two men inside and a woman.”

“Selena?”

“Not sure yet.”

I shift my gaze out the window.

“We’ll find her, Justin,” he says.

I watch passing cars as we merge into traffic.

She got Noah out. I’m glad she got him out. But she should have gone with him. Why didn’t she? Was she waiting for me to return?

“Does she think I’m dead?” I ask. Antonio knows I’m talking to my brother.

There’s a long silence. “I told her you were because I thought you were,” he pauses, turns in his seat. I see him in my periphery. “She was upset to hear it.”

I don’t let myself feel anything at that. I can’t. I need to focus now. The stakes are too high for emotion. For weakness.

“And my uncle?” I ask, only turning back to Antonio when I’ve schooled my features.

He’s typing something into his phone. Antonio has contacts everywhere. And throughout this, I’ve learned that I can trust and rely on him.

“I’m just following up on a lead. He was at the house too, we know that.”

“We need to get Selena back first. I’ll deal with him after.”

The rest of the drive is silent, and I watch the busy streets of the city as the driver weaves his way through dense traffic to a seedier looking part of town.

“There are three possible entry and exit points. Front door, side and back door. Downstairs windows are boarded up. The side door leads into an alley. The street itself is fairly busy so we’ll have to keep a low profile. No busting in doors and no gunfire if we can help it. Not on street level at least. We’ve got half a dozen men in place. Your uncle used the side door to go in and out. We’ll use that one too.”

“I’ll go in first,” Dante says as the driver parks the car a block away and we climb out. He checks his weapon before tucking it out of sight.

“You’ll stay with me,” I tell him.

“This is my fault. I owe—”

Walmart Center for Racial Equity Update: Advancing Equity in Criminal Justice

Walmart Center for Racial Equity Update: Advancing Equity in Criminal Justice

Walmart

“You’ll stay with me or you’ll stay in the car.”

“You know I’m not a kid anymore.”

“With me or in the car. Decide.”

“Fine.”

We walk down the street weaving into the crowds. When Antonio points out the house, I look up at it, at the dimly lit rooms upstairs, at the attic window. Rain drizzles overhead, steady and cold. Someone moves behind one of the windows, a shadow crossing the room.

I nod to Antonio and we move. I catch sight of our men as we near the alley where someone stands taking a piss against the dumpster. He’s humming and when he sees us, he looks up. His smile vanishes instantly. Even stinking of alcohol, he must sense danger. He hurries to put his dick back in his pants and stumbles away.

Once he’s gone, we head in. I take my pistol in hand and make my way to the side door. Maybe being a little less careful than I should but feeling anxious.

If Selena’s in this place, I need to get to her. Get her out.

The door is locked, as expected. Antonio touches my arm as he twists a silencer onto his weapon before he shoots out the lock. It’s not as silent as I’d like but given the noise in the street, I’m hoping we’ll still have the element of surprise.

I step in first followed by Antonio and Dante. The house must have been split into apartments at some point because the door we just broke in through opens up to a staircase and some storage areas. It’s unused though, cobwebs and junk piled in every corner.

No welcome party. That’s good. Unless they’re waiting to ambush us upstairs.

I take the lead up the old wooden stairs which creak beneath our boots and hear the sound of a television coming from behind the closed door. The volume’s turned pretty high. This could be good for us or bad for us, but we won’t know until it’s too late.

Here too, junk and forgotten furniture take up parts of the hallway. Antonio slips around me and walks to the second door which stands open. He gives the signal that it’s clear.

I turn to my brother who moves into position on the opposite side of the door. “Ready?” I mouth.

 He nods.

Without another moment’s hesitation, I kick the door in, the wood splintering as it crashes against the far wall.

A woman screams and men curse, the tv still going in the background as a table is knocked over and weapons are drawn, the men clearly surprised.

I know in that moment Selena isn’t here. Maybe she was at one point, but she’s gone.

I know it as a gun battle breaks out. So much for no gunfire. I know it as the tv is shot out, as the woman dives to the kitchen floor, as the men take bullets that knock them back and down.

I know it when all the sound that’s left in the place is that of our breathing, of the TV short-circuiting, of the woman whimpering on the kitchen floor.

“We’ll need to move fast,” Antonio says as I make my way down the hallway to check the rooms. I find them empty although there were people here at some point. Handcuffs hang from the headboards of the beds and the stench of fear clings to the walls.

“Upstairs,” Dante says.

I turn back to find him holding the woman who is pointing up. I move, weapon ready, hurrying up the narrow, winding stairs to the attic room. Its door is left open, the bed empty, no handcuffs on this one. Just a bucket, a camera with its red light still blinking and one of Selena’s shoes. Those ballet flats.

“She was here,” I say, tucking my gun away and picking up the shoe. It’s so small. She’s so small. And on her own. No match for the men of our world.

Antonio and Dante walk in behind me as I push a few buttons on the camera to play back the recording. I see her then. Selena carried in. Unconscious. Dumped unceremoniously on the bed. Handcuffed to it. My uncle giving the orders from the sideline obvious even though there is no sound.

[bashdupondmoretti]

𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒔. 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒘𝒆 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒗𝒆.

𝑫𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝟑𝟏, 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟔. 𝑪𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒐 𝑺𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒛𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒐, 𝑴𝒊𝒍𝒂𝒏, 𝑰𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒚.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀En las vísperas de año nuevo, la misión encubierta era estar en Milán, Italia, específicamente en el colosal Castello Sforzesco. Libró de Albert Knight y sus obligaciones en el cartel para sumirse en aquel “secreto” que no era tan secreto; trabajar para el padre de Alexya Zoé Klaffert y la mafia italiana. No obstante, no sería un simple camello más, sino que el sicario predilecto que Axel eligió para aquella enfiestada y colorida noche. ¿Que si era buena elección hacerlo a segundos de recibir el año 2017? Allá él. Nathaniel no cuestionaba; solo obedecía con el fin de resguardar su vida y asegurar que la princesa heredera se mantuviese a su lado.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Sin embargo, tenía una condición. Podía mancharse las manos por cualquier persona, pero por Axel Klaffert jamás. Como la orden provenía directamente del mayor, Nathaniel se las ingenió para hacer de aquel asesinato una simple casualidad y un suicidio no muy esperado. Uno de los ministros del gobierno italiano pretendía revelar información secreta de la mafia, datos que fueron conseguidos a través de un traidor de la organización criminal. Dos pájaros de un tiro, pidió Axel. El ministro y el traidor.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Una fiesta de gala. Impecable de traje, Nathaniel asistió. Ser el hijo del reconocido neurocirujano Alphonse Dupond-Moretti y de la diseñadora de modas Carena Carvalho, aún tras años de su asesinato, seguía abriéndole puertas. Axel lo sabía y lo utilizaba como cuan as bajo su manga.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀—Que sea rápido, Rhage. —escuchó a través del micrófono que tenía en su oreja. La pequeña muela le resultaba incómoda pero al menos era imperceptible ante los demás. —Axel lo necesita antes de medianoche. Al menos, uno de ellos.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Asintió lentamente. Miraba todo a su alrededor. Ministros, alcaldes, figuras políticas de antaño y nuevos rostros que, por el momento, no eran mediáticamente reconocidos. Había de todo. Élite italiana, incluso de otros países. Francia, Alemania y España se lucían en vestidos de exclusivos diseñadores. Incluso, logró reconocer uno de los vestidos de su madre ceñido al cuerpo de una holandesa. ¿Acaso la mafia realmente era la mafia o eran quienes pertenecían a la política? Nathaniel suspiró. Menuda osadía.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀—Nathaniel… ¿Nathaniel Dupond-Moretti?

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Su nombre resonó a su espalda. El portugués volteó y reconoció a uno de los blancos que Klaffert le había encomendado. No era el ministro, sí el traidor… ¿El traidor era el secretario del ministerio? Y, ¿de dónde lo reconocía? ¿De…?

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀—¡Tu padre salvó la vida de mi abuelo! —contó entusiasta Giussepe Rinaldi, secretario del ministerio de defensa de Italia. —No sabes lo agradecido que estuve con él y lamenté tanto su muerte… Si pudiéramos hacerlos pagar…

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀—¡Mi padre! —Nate respondió con fingida euforia. —Mi padre… Bueno, él siempre fue un servidor con la gente. La salud era su pasión, era todo.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Entonces inició una mundana conversación que tuvo a Nathaniel esforzándose hasta los callos para mantenerla. Se lo debía a Klaffert; a su hija también. No pasó mucho hasta que Rinaldi lo invitase a un trago, luego a un puro y prontamente, a una botella de whisky de aquellas que costaban una fortuna. Pronto se vieron en una habitación, donde Giuseppe le enseñaba los cuadros. Le contaba el año, el autor e incluso datos curiosos sobre las pinturas. Nathaniel no prestaba atención.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀—¿Consumes cocaína?

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀La pregunta del secretario sobresaltó al narcotraficante, pero no le extrañó. Los clientes habituales de toda mafia y cartel, eran asociados a la política. Vio que el hombre sacaba un sobre transparente que contenía el polvillo blanco. Nathaniel negó con la cabeza. “La casa invita”, señaló confiado, enseñándole él su propio producto. Para hacerlo confiar, vertió lo suficiente en su dedo índice y lo inhaló de una sola vez.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀—¿De dónde la consigues? —preguntó él, curioso.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀—Se cuenta el milagro pero no el santo, Rinaldi.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Ambos rieron. Y en un descuido, Nathaniel hizo el cambiazo en su bolsillo; en vez de cocaína, lo cambió por ricina mezclada con la droga. Dibujó dos líneas blancas sobre el fino roble del escritorio que descansaba al medio de la rústica habitación. Solos, Giuseppe había cavado su propia tumba. Como traidor y confiado.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀—Puedes hacer los honores, Rinaldi.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Sin pensarlo y sin cuestionar, se esmeró en enrollar un billete de cien dólares para consumir de aquella droga que Nathaniel le ofrecía. Dos segundos bastaron para que el secretario se dejase llevar, no con una línea, sino que con las dos.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀—¿Y esto qué es? —mencionó sobando su nariz de manera que todo el polvillo entrara a su sistema. Enérgico, le sonreía. Drogado, pidió otra ronda más. Nate no se negó. —Deberás darme el dato, Nathaniel… Esto está de puta madre.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀—Ya lo sabrás... Ya lo sabrás.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Nathaniel abandonó la habitación con una sonrisa victoriosa, regalándole ambas bolsas. La que tenía cocaína, y la otra combinada con ricina. Avanzó por el inmenso salón que, adornado por lámparas de araña y riquezas ocultas de la población promedio, sería en cosa de segundos lugar de una inesperada muerte. El portugués con un solo botón de su teléfono ordenó que su francotirador se hiciese cargo de su segundo encargo: el ministro de defensa, Leonardo Rossi. Un tiro en la frente y otro directamente en el corazón, causando los gritos desesperados de las mujeres y las nulas acciones de parte de los hombres. Mientras su secretario se drogada a destajo, el ministro italiano era asesinado vilmente.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀La desesperación se sentía. Nathaniel escapaba campante, como si nada hubiese pasado. Logró pasar desapercibido en medio del tumulto de gente y salir como si nada del Castello Sforzesco.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Afuera, le esperaba Alexya. Una chaqueta de cuero, el cabello ondulado que cruzaba sus hombros y unos jeans rasgados realzaban sus largas piernas. Los tacones le daban un poco más de altura y cargada a un lado de su cintura, Nathaniel debió callarse. Pensó una y mil cosas que decirle. Partiendo desde lo guapa que estaba y que le hubiese comido la boca una vez más. Y claramente, olvidó el detalle más importante: quitarse el micrófono. Lo desconcentraba, aquella mujer le hacía perder el norte.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀—El ministro está muerto. El secretario en no más de ocho días será parte de los noticieros ante lo que podría ser catalogado como un suicidio. Lo que tu padre quería, está saldado.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀—Justo a tiempo, Dupond. ¿Te dije lo eficaz que eres?

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀—Es mi trabajo, no tengo opción, Alexya.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀—Pero alguna motivación tendrás, Nate...

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Cuando pensó en contestarle con una atroz sinceridad, justo resonaron en el cielo los fuegos artificiales que daban la bienvenida al nuevo año. Ambos levantaron la mirada y la noche estrellada era adornada por las chispas que sonaban sincronizadamente a metros de altura. Disparo tras disparo. Una panorámica soñada. Pronto sus miradas volvieron a encontrarse. Ella sonrió, él también. Cuando Nathaniel pretendía hacer algo más, Alexya lo tomó por los hombros y lo besó, adelantándose a cualquier pensamiento del hombre. Lo besó hasta que sus pulmones le exigieron un poco más de aire y hasta que se dio cuenta de la impulsividad de aquel acto. Mas, no lo soltó. Su abrasador aliento chocaba contra él. Mala decisión, Alexya, porque…

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀—Te amo.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀—¿Qué? —cuestionó incrédula. —Nate… ¿Qué?

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Él tragó saliva sonoramente, nervioso, ¡cómo es que se le ocurría justo en ese momento decir una verdad que juró ante Knight jamás revelar!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀—Alexya, no...

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀—Debo irme, Nate. Debo…

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Y desapareció en medio de un fallido te amo y una inesperada confesión. Al menos, Axel Klaffert estaría contento: sus secretos estaban a salvo gracias a Nathaniel.

#nathaniel #alexya

[hckerstvne]

@addiecide​

When the explosion had went off Lily was on of the fairs wheel with her stuffed animal she had won. There were so many things running through her mind and usually somewhere high is where she thinks more clearly. “Mom,” the blonde called out and quickly scoffs at saying it. “...Colleen.” Fuck, it felt weird to the youngest Stone in calling her that. “I wish you were here.” She found herself clinging to the stuffed animal she had won though quickly let go of it when seeing something catch her eye. Looking over to the right is where she saw it. Smoke and fire followed by the sirens of firetrucks, police cars and ambulance. Lily looks down to the ground as she began to come back down. She watched as Dante Rinaldi, Hayden Danvers and a few others she knew that were associated with the cartels went running in the direction of the chaos. Undoing the lock Lily gets off the ride before it even came to a full stop and ignored the anger of the carnie. She bolted. Lily ran through the crowd and dodged most of the people unlike her stuffed animal. 

Arriving to the scene reminded Lily the 9/11 footage she watched in high school. “Holy fuck.” she breathed out and ran a hand through her blonde locks. Even though the Castro Cartel were her enemies she felt bad for them just a little bit due to some she knew who weren’t so bad. Taking a step forward and preparing to dive into the crowd to ask questions Lily heard a woman’s voice come to her in a rather rude tone. 

“Um, excuse me?” Lily spoke and looked at the woman. She was giving the girl a chance to hopefully correct her words. 

#lakewood: carnival #lakewood: event #//I hope this is okay hun.

[myloveneverends-blog1]

                      WHAT MY PGS THINK ABOUT YOURS ?

Lara Cooper :  Virginia è la mia migliore amica, un po’ come la sorella che non ho mai avuto e che ho tanto desiderato di avere. Sono così fiera di averla nella mia vita, e spero che di non perderla mai perché altrimenti potrei sentirmi come un pesce fuor d’acqua, mi spiego ? Abbiamo sempre fatto tutto insieme sin dagli undici anni, è stata al mio fianco anche nelle situazioni più difficili ed anche strane ! Io difendo lei, lei difende me : è questa la nostra regola. Sono felice di averla incontrata quel primo settembre sull’Hogwarts Express, anche perché sinceramente penso che senza di lei sarei in grossi guai e non condurrei una vita così serena e spontanea. 

Sebastian Rosier :  Beh, penso che tutto ormai sappiano che sono fidanzato da più di un anno con la Rinaldi, e wow ! Prima volta nella mia vita che una relazione duri così tanto e che soprattutto non mi penta di niente. Penso che ogni singolo istante che passiamo insieme sia originale, mai noioso e il suo essere sempre tanto allegra ed ottimista non è sempre così fastidioso come dico ... insomma, mi ha dato nuove prospettive, un nuovo modo per affrontare anche le situazioni più dure e rischiose, e sono certo del fatto che lei ci sarà sempre per me. E’ una bella cosa, no ? Nella mia famiglia siamo abituati diversamente, molto più indipendenti sul tema amoroso, ma con Virginia ho scoperto una complicità di coppie molto diversa a quella tipo dei miei genitori o nonni, per dire. Lei è sempre presente, gentile, ha sempre una parola dolce da rivolgere e ogni tanto sì, mi da l’impressione di una piccola bambina che ha solo bisogno di essere abbracciata. 

Isaac Lahey :  Eileen è una delle persone più stronze ma allo stesso tempo terribilmente belle che io abbia mai incontrato. Non è il solito prototipo di ragazza sexy che ama piantare in asso i ragazzi, o almeno è solo ciò che vuole dare a vedere perché le piace il fatto di avere questa specie di guscio protettivo che la protegge. Ho scoperto con il tempo che è brava nello studio, le piacciono gli animali, è una persona aggressiva ma allo stesso tempo energica e decisa ; ha quell’innata determinazione che la rende sempre vittoriosa, e sinceramente non so come faccia ! Insomma, io mi stancherei a dover rincorrere sempre le cose che voglio, quindi a volte lascio perdere oppure faccio sì che gli altri lo facciano per me. Lei invece possiede così tanto orgoglio da poter smuovere anche una montagna da sola, ed è una delle cose che amo di più di lei assieme al suo essere responsabile e passionale allo stesso tempo. Penso che Eileen sia una persona da scoprire in tutto e per tutto, e sì dai, mi reputo decisamente fortunato e felice di averla al mio fianco.

Alaska Martin :  Eileen, eh ? Beh, sicuramente mi sembra una ragazza molto combattiva e seducente, almeno da quanto ho potuto constatare ! Odia non avere ragione o sbagliare, quindi diciamo che su questo posso capirla su questo punto di vista : non sono la persona più facile del mondo quando sono in una sfida. Inoltre, mi sembra piuttosto intelligente e furba, e queste doti portato molto lontano nella vita soprattutto se hai la sua serietà nel gestirle e sfruttarle nel migliore dei modi. Non ama dover fare conversazioni frivole o che ritiene stupide, quindi è anche interessante averci a che fare anche se potrebbe tirare fuori l’asso che ha nella manica : il sesso. Eh sì, non è affatto pudica ed anzi pensa che sia una delle cose più normali del mondo, anche per parlarne davanti alla famiglia. 

Lara Cooper :  Oh miei dei ! Posso sputtanare Miles Malley tutto in una volta ? Sono prontissima ! A parte gli scherzi, amo il mio ragazzo e non potrei desiderare una persona migliore al mio fianco, nonostante tutte le litigate e le cose che ci hanno tenuti separati per un po’. Insomma, una gravidanza inaspettata ed un costante clima di competizione non sembrano essere la migliore delle prospettive per una coppia, eppure noi siamo andati avanti ed il fatto che adesso siamo qui, insieme, non fa altro che confermare il fatto che il nostro legame è genuino e forte. Di Miles ammiro immensamente il suo essere duro ma allo stesso tempo intimamente così fragile, e poi il suo sarcasmo è una delle cose che mi diverte di più ! A volte fa un po’ l’antipaticone della situazione perché è nella sua indole, ma so che può essere una persona dolce e rilassata quando vuole e quando si sente a suo agio con chi ha attorno. Ama come me le serie tv e i videogames, quindi tre miliardi di punti a suo favore ! Giochiamo sempre insieme, e se non gli ho ancora rotto il joystick in testa è solo perché il suo faccino è incredibilmente bello. Credetemi se per me Miles è arte viva, e non cercate di contraddirmi !!! E RIMANE MIO. Okay, siamo entrambi alquanto gelosi, lo ammetto. Non è il romanticone di turno che ti porta un mazzo enorme di rose sotto casa, e a me piace così perché è questa la persona di cui sono innamorata.

Sebastian Rosier :  Premetto che io Miles non lo sopporto, okay ? Sono qui solo perché mi hanno passato una mazzetta di soldi, e a me le mazzette piacciono : solo per questo. Allora, qualche pregio e difetto ? Sicuramente è uno stronzo che pensa di essere il migliore, ma ovviamente non ha capito che qua il migliore sono io e non un babbano con bacchetta magica. Poi, è permaloso e orgoglioso, cosa alquanto snervante quando si cerca di parlargli : mah, di solito mi urla addosso e quindi io urlo addosso a lui. E’ OVVIO. Non so molto per poterlo commentare, se non che è fissato con quella roba tecnologica dei babbani ed il quidditch. Pregi ...  è alto e ha i capelli neri. E’ abbastanza ? 

Isaac Lahey :  Ehi, è arrivato il turno di mio fratello !! aka il mio personale ragazzino che o proteggo o si prende una valanga di pugni in faccia, quindi gli evito la cosa. Sono un bravo fratello, eh ? Modestamente, ne sono consapevole. Allora ... Stiles oltre ad essere una delle persone più simpatiche ed iperattive che esistono a questo mondo, è anche terribilmente intelligente ma tende a sfruttare questa sua intelligenza solo se c’è qualche mistero nel mezzo ; ad esempio, da bambino ficcava sempre il naso nelle cartelle di nostro padre, e non c’era giorno in cui non passasse prima in centrale di polizia finite le lezioni a scuola. Ha un cuore tenero, ma allo stesso tempo è coraggioso, determinato e quando vuole, sa essere anche scaltro. E’ un inguaribile romantico, ed è generoso con le persone che ama ed è sinceramente supportivo. Non ha mai perso una mia partita od esame, quindi mi è stato di grande aiuto anche quando mi sentivo un po’ schiacciato dalla situazione. E’ bello essere capitato nella sua famiglia, perché sono davvero delle persone fantastiche ... ma io queste cose qua le dico e qua le nego.

Alaska Martin :  Siamo già arrivati ad uno dei miei argomenti preferiti ? Mon Dieu, avrei così tanto da dire su di lui che non so neanche da dove cominciare ... ecco, lui è il bambino che ho conosciuto alle elementari e che mi offrì un pezzo della sua merenda, e che ora diventerà mio marito. E’ strano mettere a confronto queste due scene, e ripensare al nostro passato : è sempre stato la mia ancora di salvezza, un porto sicuro, la persona che non sapevo di amare e che per la quale ho scoperto di aver sempre covato un sentimento molto forte da cui scappavo. Cerca sempre di farmi felice, di mettermi a mio agio e mi tiene lontana dalla mia malattia : è sempre lì, a prendersi cura di me, a proteggermi da qualsiasi persona o situazione. Non gli servono una valanga di muscoli o una pistola per impedire al mondo di farmi male, gli basta semplicemente tenermi un po’ stretta e tutto il dolore va via. E’ la persona più intelligente e viva che io abbia mai incontrato, sempre positivo, sarcastico, che riesce a sviscerare anche le situazioni più intricate ed elaborare dei piani ; è gentile, romantico, dolcissimo e solare. Dove saremmo senza Stiles ? E’ stato anche ingenuo, ma su questa caratteristica ci ha lavorato su ed ora non fa altro che renderlo migliore ; perché sì, è una persona molto equilibrata, che sta distinguere quando essere innocente e quando, invece, il più scaltro. Adoro quando mi fa le sorprese o qualsivoglia tipo di gesto carino, perché è sempre spontaneo e delicato. Non vuole ferirmi, e gli sono grata per questo perché è l’unico con cui mi confido e che mi capisce sempre. Voglio sposarlo, stare con la nostra famiglia, seguire i nostri sogni e coronare il nostro amore : mi sembra una storia con un finale bellissimo, no ? Ho sempre amato i libri, ed è fantastico che la mia vita assomigli ad una di questi solo grazie al mio cuore di panna. 

[thisislakewood]

→ IN CHARACTER INFORMATION

Character Name: Dante Rinaldi

Character Age: 25

Faceclaim Choice: Dominic Sherwood

Gender and Pronouns: Male, He/Him

Birthplace: Messina, Italy

Birthday: October 31

Occupation: Dirty Cop

Family: In favour of Rinaldi

Position: Mule

→ BIOGRAPHY

“That boy was chosen for the damned.”  

You would think being the little brother of a psychopath like Pietro would make Dante Rinaldi being anything but like him. Well you are goddamn right–but also so very wrong.

Being the youngest son of the Rinaldis’ along with having someone like Pietro for an older brother made many people fear the young boy and that enraged Dante. Don’t get me wrong he loved how people back home would cower in fear but they weren’t in fear of him. To the world Dante, appeared as the quiet son who wouldn’t even think about playing with a blade drenched in blood. He was more of the hands on type of lad with bruised knuckles. Though before he realized his strength and his love for throwing fists the young Rinaldi relied on his wits in ways others wouldn’t think of. At the age of four during nap time Dante put gum in a classmate’s hair; he made fun of the Rinaldi’s heterochromia. Another time he put super glue in a girl’s seat for she called him names. He didn’t stop there. The quiet Rinaldi had a maid sent to the hospital with glass embedded in her feet from putting her shoes on. There was broken glass residing in her shoes just because a certain someone did not like how his room was cleaned. Many people thought Pietro was the one who did such a thing. Unlike his brother Dante knew just how not to get caught. The boy as you can see was clever in covering his tracks. Dante allowed the suspicion–the suspense kill those around him. Some claimed they just couldn’t see a Mama’s boy doing such things due to his sweet and quiet nature. Others claim he is the Devil in the shadows.

Not long (age six) after moving to the States and taking up residence in Lakewood is when Dante first split blood. A student that was a year higher than Dante had snatched his Gameboy right out of his hands–that was a wrong move. Using his scrawny body to his advantage the Rinaldi had jumped the student from behind, causing them to both drop to ground with Dante bashing the kid’s head into the concrete with all his might. The student later on had to have almost over a hundred stitches. From this people (including his family) had learned he had a tendency to act out in violence when messed with. After this his American peers learned not to mess with the boy and that became a bore to Dante rather quick. He craved to spill blood again like an addict itching for their next high. Patience soon became one of his virtues for he did not act upon the urges, yet. Resistance like that can only go so far and one day it snapped like a twig in Dante’s mind. One of the football players had filled the bathroom’s garbage bag with water before dumping the contents within the plastic over his head in front of those who stood in the hallway. What a cruel Senior prank, right? Remaining calm before everyone, the Rinaldi had a burning hellfire rage in him. He caught the jock off guard not long after the prank and Dante had dragged him out into the desert for him to become food for the coyotes. His body was found a week later and the jock became nothing, but a rotting corpse with several limbs missing. Hell, Dante should’ve wrote chew toy across the guy’s forehead for that corpse was the definition of it. No one didn’t even dare look to Dante except one person. The jock’s brother. This guy however did not end up being a chew toy. Instead he became the definition of a punch bag. He had confronted Dante out on the bleachers one night and claimed he knew it was the Rinaldi who gave the Jock his early demise. Taking Dante’s scrawny stature for granted the boy was found the next morning hung upside down from the school’s bleacher with a broken jaw and several other broken bones. Oh, you cannot forget the punctured lung of course. Showing the coward he was, that boy never told a soul of who did that torture to him.

As you can see Dante does have the capability of killing someone. Though why kill them when you can torture and make the other party suffer? That seemed so much more fun to Dante Rinaldi. Don’t let him fool you or anything. This man has had his own agenda for a while and it involved the cartel. He knew from a young age of how unfit Pietro is and knew that if his brother sits where their Father is–both the cartel and their family would be doomed. Of course he didn’t show nor threw his opinion out in the open about this. Dante knew he had to lie in wait for the throne to be ripe for the taking. With his mother’s secret guidance from a young age he just might be fit enough to become king one day.

Graduating from high school Dante pulled a fast surprise on every one in his family. He had joined the United States Military–the Navy to be exact. Dante had the urgency to see the world and the military always did interest him so why not do both? He soon no longer was the scrawny Rinaldi. Dante bulked up and soon joined the SEALs due to his particular set of skills he kept in the dark when growing up. He soon began to rack up kills as if he were in a video game of the sorts. Many of his brothers in arms praised him for his skills while others feared it. Feared that he may one day pull the trigger on them. Despite his violent side Dante proved to be selfless and most of the time usually put others before himself. What an odd trait for a Rinaldi to have, wouldn’t you agree? Then again Dante always had been the odd one growing up.

Hearing through the grapevine of his brother’s return to Lakewood, Dante thought it would be best for him to return as well to see how many bodies will drop like flies. With the younger male Rinaldi back into town, how long will it be before he leaves a trail of bodies? How many will there be now? He is no longer the quiet child that many people knew. Oh what a surprise that town is in for he hadn’t stepped foot in Lakewood until now.

Now the real question is–what exactly is on Dante’s agenda for the throne?

→ PERSONALITY SUMMARY

Positive Traits: Alert, Valiant, Charming, Loyal, Independent, Intelligent, Humorous, Selfless. Negative Traits: Hostile, Destructive, Ruthless, Impulsive, Short Tempered, Solemn, Mischievous.

#dominic sherwood #rp #rpg #crime rp #gang rp #taken #rinaldi cartel

[thisislakewood]

→ IN CHARACTER INFORMATION

Character Name: Aiden Turner 

Character Age: 38

Faceclaim Choice: Hugh Dancy

Second Faceclaim Choice: Orlando Bloom

Gender and Pronouns: Male; he/his

Birthplace: New York, New York

Birthday: June 19, 1981

Occupation: Employee of Texas Holdem Shooting Range 

Family: In favor of the Rinaldi Family

Position: Soldier

→ BIOGRAPHY

Triggers: Abuse and excessive violence

Born close to the slums of New York City, it’s easy to say that Aiden Turner’s life was anything but easy. His father worked as a boatyard manager (as well as a part time bare-knuckle fighter) and his mother was once a seamstress. Everything seemed semi-normal, but that all changed. One night, his father resumed his old drinking habits and there was an argument between the married couple. Driven mad by the alcohol in his system, the father killed his wife in a blind rage. Having been only 3 at the time, Aiden remained the only witness to the entire murder that occurred in the living room of the small single floored house. 

His father wished for his son to become his prodigy in the bare-knuckle ring, but Aiden wanted no part in it. Nonetheless, his father trained him in close combat and with a firearm (both of which Aiden seemed to have a nature talent for). When he was 7, his father constantly physically abused him, often with a belt, driven to such an end by copious amounts of alcohol and frustration. One night, an older gentleman (named Jamie) found Aiden wandering the streets of the City alone and the sight of various open wounds across the boy’s skin alerted him that something was amiss in this individual’s life. Jamie took Aiden into his care for a night and patched him up.  The two made fast friends and Jamie treated him like the son he never was able to have, due to the early passing of his wife. During his stays with his father-figure, Aiden was educated math, science, literature, and history. Three times a week, he would sneak out to visit Jamie, with an eager mind for learning. However, this all came to an abrupt end. He had chosen to stay over at Jamie’s place, but little did he know that his father had followed him. Aiden was jerked out his sleep by a violent scuffle taking place and he had steadily crept down the stairs only to met with another sight that would forever scar him. 

His father pulled the trigger on a wounded Jamie, striking the man in the chest. Out of anger, Aiden lashed out at the only other surviving member of his own kin. Blows were exchanged and his father reeked of a combination of alcohol, sweat, and blood. It was Aiden’s quick thinking that saved his life and ended his father’s. With the upper hand, he was compelled by revenge that his own dad had torn apart his life and he fired the gun. His aim was true and his shaking hands dropped the weapon as the adrenaline faded from his system, and the steadily realization of what he had once surfaced in his mind.  

After that harrowing night, Aiden chose to leave the scene as it was, and making it look like a suicide. He returned home only to pack his belongings in a backpack and he  made sure to grab whatever money he could find before departing. He took to the streets and promptly left the Tristate area and  hitchhiked to Minnesota. He worked at the docks on Lake Superior in order to make some profit. During his stay, he rented out a small room thanks to a very kind lady, who only charged him a small amount of money per month. Now, he was 20 and by now other people his age would be in college. 

He envied that life of education and opportunities that he lacked, however, he was aware that he had to work with the situations that he had been given. Every night, he was plagued by nightmares and flashbacks of what occurred in his youth. His hands never quite stopped quaking unless he was holding a gun, some other weapon, or focused on a task. He was on his way back to his living space when he was jumped and captured by a few men, who were apart of the local mafia. When his eyes finally adjusted to the new dim lighting of the bare chilly room, it was safe to say that he had no idea what would happen to him.  * His pain became entertaining to to his captors who physically and verbally abused him. They wished for him to beg them for death, but Aiden always to break. The woman in charge of tending to his wounds after the beatings that occurred four times a week, took pity on him and treated Aiden with care and she steadily gained his trust. There was a mutual attraction that occurred between the both of them, but it could never be expressed in words. She’s sneak him extra food and water, which he was extremely grateful for. When police raided the place, the two of them attempted to escape together.

Weaving through various fights taking place, they raced for the exit, with their hands clasped together. Stray gunshots whizzed past their forms and screams rang in their minds, but they were focused on one goal. Just before their feet touched the open free ground of the earth, things happened simultaneously. Pain jolted through his right ankle and her grip slipped from his. He had stumbled backwards, with his body in agony but when his eyes fell upon her, his heart stopped for a second. 

A bullet had exited her thigh and had grazed an artery before having exited and striking him, lodging itself within his body. He pulled her away from danger only to hold her in his arms before she died. After that night, he fled the state and soon found himself in Texas. Allying himself with the Rinaldi Cartel, he perfectly fit the mold of a soldier…and for once, it seems that he has finally found his place, but things don’t always stay the way they do. 

→ PERSONALITY SUMMARY

Aiden is a very reserved individual and given the events in his past, this is not surprising. He does not trust easily and will likely do his best to avoid social interactions with strangers. He’s very observant and often sees details that others tend to overlook. Many consider him as cold, but in truth, he can be very kind and generous. He’s very well guarded and his eyes always carry a sense of sadness within them. He’s open to conversations with other members of the Rinaldi Cartel and doesn’t mind spending them with them. He doesn’t speak about his past very much and tends to get lost in his mind, often zoning out. However, when he’s assigned a job, he’s ruthless and doesn’t hesitate to pull the trigger. He has a cat at home, named Grady, and that may be the only living creature that has seen the soft of him.

#hugh dancy #established rp #rp #semi appless rp #oc rp #taken #rinaldi cartel #abuse tw #violence tw

[thisislakewood]

→ IN CHARACTER INFORMATION

Character Name: Pietro Rinaldi

Character Age: 30

Faceclaim Choice: Dylan O’Brien

Gender and Pronouns: Cismale & He/Him

Birthplace: Messina, Italy, EU

Birthday: January 1st, 1989

Occupation: Bartender at Luna Nightclub

Family: IN FAVOUR OF The Rinaldi’s

Position:  The Bodyguard

→ BIOGRAPHY

Heavy is the head that wears the crown.

Pietro Rinaldi was bred for greatness the moment he was placed in his mother’s arms, but even with the world’s expectations falling on his shoulders and his family one step behind him— he continues causing mayhem one body at a time.

Being the oldest son of the Rinaldi family was no easy feat. The mere power of his last name alone was enough to topple buildings in the coastal town of Messina. Power that had gone to every single member of the family’s head. Egos larger than life parading around like they meant something in this putrid world. Even with all the glam and gold, Pietro’s interest in his family withered. From a young age, he’d known better than to get involved with the static of being another piece on the chessboard. He intended on finding a new game, and it wasn’t long until he’d found it by the end of a blade.

At the age of eleven, he had strangled the life out of one of their housemaids simply because she had accidentally spilled water on his pressed shirt. He’d later left the body for the family to discover after mutilating it with all the silverware in the house. It became abundantly clear how much of a problem child Pietro had become, but he did his best to keep it under his parents’ noses. In the later years, he had committed his second murder. An unlucky teacher who had stepped in between one of his many school fights. His unruly reign hadn’t ended there. In the more recent years, Pietro had caused more than enough damage to the Rinaldi name. Sex-addicted and a drug-abuser, he thought of nothing and no one but himself. He had become a loose cannon. Unhinged. There was little anyone could do and when all hope had seemed lost, the calm in his storm resurfaced. His younger sister, Valentina.

Through careful coercion, little by little, he turned Valentina against their parents.   He had manipulated his sister with the careful, considerate words that he’d so meticulously strung together in the hopes of winning her over. Of course, she’d always been against the cartel, but he knew with her at his side, they could skyrocket through this fog. Claim their rightful place among an endless sea of kings— but she would not follow— and for a very long time, Pietro had been convincingly alright with it. Had it been the truth? No. He wanted nothing more than his sister to willingly fall into his arms like she always did when they were children. He’d catch her like a spider forming a web; but only time would tell.

Pietro had always considered himself a reigning terror even without the weight of his last name. His ventures in the business-world made him cut-throat in every sense. Any and all money he earned was through his incorrigible smooth-talking, but he craved more. He craved what his family effortlessly had. His interest in his family had been low, but within the cartel— he found solitude. Money fueled the man and soon the power had consumed him. In his search for individuality, he found nothing but the cold abyss of a future he could no longer run from. Still, he couldn’t let give in to what his family wanted. He had come so far yet still felt so far behind. Alienating himself for years had led to plenty of psychotic breaks and depression, but he was strong. He always had been incredibly hard-headed.

Rejoining his family in Lakewood was definitely a step in the wrong direction, but having discovered Lorenz was to take over the family business, Pietro knew he had to step up. Be it greed or otherwise, he knew from now on, he could never have the life he dreamed; the least he could do was ensure no one else did either.

→ PERSONALITY SUMMARY

+ Positive Traits: Charming, Amiable, Intelligent, Open-Minded - Negative Traits: Irrational, Guarded, Self-Destructive, Detached

#dylan o'brien #active rp #rp #rpg #crime rp #taken #rinaldi cartel #murder tw #death tw

[thisislakewood]

→ IN CHARACTER INFORMATION

Character Name: Eli Drake

Character Age: 37

Faceclaim Choice: Alexander Skarsgard

Gender and Pronouns: Cis male, he/him

Birthplace: Kingston upon Thames, London, England

Birthday: May 18th, 1981

Occupation: CEO of Drake Consolidated Mines

Family: In favour of the Rinaldi Cartel

Position: Associate

→ BIOGRAPHY

Triggers: Death

Destiny was a gift to those deserving of it, righteousness was saved for the strongest, and glamour was just fucking fun. These were all the things that encompassed all that was Eli Drake. The grandeur of his life was shifted from boredom, to prestige, to being nothing short of an utter fuck up—to getting his life together. Playing the world as one large game—and looking to win. Born and raised in Kingston upon Thames in London, to a Swedish mother and an English father. Within the nature of their affair–his father abandoned and divorced his first wife in lieu of Eli’s mother–shown to Eli from a young age, that all, potentially, were disposable, if you viewed them as such. Of course, none of this was diluted either, given the borough he resided in within his youth brought prestige within his thus short life. Eli was a child, blessed with righteousness and need to prove the world wrong. Or, in some twisted chance of fate, his parents.  With the coming ground that he’d grown up within the knowledge that status came from money, and the levels of your own bank account proved further if you deserved to rule the world or not. This notion was drilled into his mind since a young child, by the overburden passing thought that they were nothing more than their own self-worth. A mother laden with alcoholic substances practically thriving through her blood, and a father’s who’s best skill was feeling up whatever assistant he’d hired that week. What a way to raise a child, yes? Cold. That’s what lingered for the man, as he’d sprouted quite wonderfully. With the dull attention that London’s grey skies laid on his horizon, he knew one thing—breaking from them, becoming the powered instead of seduced by it was the common goal. Eli was not someone who was going to sit there and wait for the world to hand him the trophy he wanted, nay, deserved. Throughout his life, Eli was exposed to the harsh tones of what became of the scum considered within the workings of Cartels. Until one came along and paid gloriously.

Being their own Mining conglomerate, it only made sense that the darker seeds of distrust sprung from the truth that there were ways to get rich easily—and then there were ways to stay rich. That was the lifestyle and choice that his parents choose, knowing that there could never be a chance they didn’t try—nor sunk into the vastly unappealing title of “millionaire.” If they were not billionaires, they were nothing. The depiction of unhealthy relationships spring from his parent’s relationship. Eli was taught fights included smashed glass from tossing it at someone’s head, that commitment was a sickness, and no man could ever truly settle for one woman. But that was a toxic suggestion from his father, that should his mother ever cheat, which he’d known first-hand how well she got on with the staff, that would be the end of it all. So it was played and followed, coy at first, before it sunk into the fact that this life—his life—was going to be swallowed up by the truth. The truth of his emotions, his soul, and never lay barren to another soul. Truth would’ve been spun, outlined to something else. Something approved.

Even as he grew into his teens, and finally adulthood, Eli was the by-product of his parents’ inaction to raise a regular human being. The toxic notion that he was above all span all the sexes, all partners of both beings, and shifted him into an atmospheric nature that alluded all who came into his cross hairs. Of course, in the simple sense, he was cold, complicated, calculated and positioned to get all he wanted. Notably, a few celebrities fell into that list, a prince and princess—or two—and cartels. Deep within the shaded area of his family’s wealth laid the truth of their pious growth. Cartels—in this, the Rinaldi Cartel—dignified them with the millions more that cap-sized the billions he earned through his family’s work. And while he played the title of bachelor and heir—it never came into light that he’d one day have to settle, slow his path and take over. But accidents happen, don’t they? In the light of a stormy night, did the whispers of words reach the wait staff within his home before it had ever been whispered to the only child who sat atop a multi-billion dollar fortune. That he was the sole heir to the Drake Diamond Mine. That he would step above all those who would consider others, over the rules of the will set forth from his father long ago—so long ago, he was convinced, as hues scanned the will’s truths, that his father looked at it long before his father realized just how much he hated his only child. Had his sheltering in ways he was as unaware as a child, kept him away from the darker sides of the world were unacceptable? Possibly. Did it make his intention crueler even so—yes.

The death turned him into the shell of a man, something that shook him to his core. He didn’t recognize himself, a slink into the darkened state came with drug abuse, finding cocaine his weapon of choice. For six months, Eli spent his time on a high, drunk too often, and coming to a crossroads where he didn’t know where the line began and ended. He severed ties with those who held tight within his parents circle, finding their well-wishes almost cruel and unwanted. Finding himself slip from everything he once was, right down to the physical appearance. There was an issue—when he’d known he’d hit rock bottom. Finding friendship in those around him—the few he kept himself involved with, he cleaned up, and his physical being took precedence over everything else. By the time a year and a half had passed since his parents passing, Eli had moved into something his parents would be rolling over in the grave for. Now, with the world at his feet, the bevvy of beings lined up to catch his eye—it took no time for Eli to simply spin this too his advantage. His eye had been caught by Naomi Stone long before he would’ve ever admitted it too. He wouldn’t have been allowed to, back then when his parents walked the earth. Simplicity in a woman who kept him on his toes then would’ve barked at the notion that he was not like his father—and that would not fly.

Then again, he certainly was. In all his truths, abandoning and then having her kicked off his yacht almost a hundred miles off the coastline of Southern France, it might’ve been the breaking point of a second where he could’ve come back from it all, been a better man. But that was just the thing—he was a product of insanity, the binds never existing for a soul such as he, and when confined to tight corners, they lash out—break free. Summer romances came and went, memories stung to his mind like a piercing light in the middle of darkness, but he wouldn’t elude them to be anything more than that. That’s all they were. Then, and now. Now, now all that mattered was the job, the portrayal of business man while his shadow confined to London’s dismal corners, he traveled to Lakewood, where his wealth would be amassed by the treasure of control, something he longed for in his own profession. Mines purchased to further his own, while aiding the development of a family he thoroughly believed in, through his friendship with Elisabeth Rinaldi. Both of them understanding that the purpose was gain, and gain was money. Nothing, nothing, would stand in Eli’s way of that.

→ PERSONALITY SUMMARY

+ Bold, Loyal, Goal-oriented - Domineering, Unpredictable, Aloof

#alexander skarsgard #rp #gang rp #mafia rp #oc rp #taken #rinaldi cartel

[thisislakewood]

→ IN CHARACTER INFORMATION

Character Name: Aurora Electra Rinaldi

Characters Age: 21

Faceclaim Choice: Skyler Samuels

Gender and Pronouns: Female, She/her

Birthplace: Messina, Italy

Birthday: April 8th, 1997

Occupation: Heiress

Family: In favour of the Rinaldi Cartel

→ BIOGRAPHY

A girl born surrounded by diamonds and luxury is expected to be a spoiled woman who had never taken any of her luxuries for gratitude. With Messina being a town that would follow any order the twin commanded, Aurora was perceived as a princess. In fact, the whole family was royalty to Messina.  Even when her family moved to Lakewood, Texas when she was two, nothing had changed. In contrast to her siblings, this was her home. Nothing but the name was different. But growing up, the girl began to see just how privileged she actually was. She saw how many struggled for food and shelter, how there were people who would do almost anything just to eat for a day. There were parents who would engage in dangerous acts, only if it meant they could get something for their family. It made her realize that not everyone had the luxury she did and that the world was truthfully cruel. A little more humble than most of her family, but she hid this from them. To her parents, Aurora was the perfect daughter and they hoped that she would lead the Rinaldi family, or have a powerful family of her own. The one and only person that she could connect with about how she truly feels, is her sister, Valentina.

But talking to Valentina became harder than Aurora desired. When Valentina publicly proclaimed that she wanted nothing to do with her family’s business, relations with her sister had grown harder than it actually seemed. Although she could talk to her sister and visit her freely without backlash from her family, she felt as if she was betraying them at the same time. More of an internal conflict began to arise and everything had made Aurora question whether she wanted to stay in the family business herself. But she was too scared of breaking off and disappointing her parents that love and care for her. She spent years when she was younger to win their love, trust, and affection, and she didn’t want to lose it all. Fighting for approval, to be come daddy’s little princess, and her mother’s epitome of perfection was not something that wanted to lose so easily. Not when it created the world that she had now. She made an agreement to herself: To the public, she will play the conscientious and dutiful Rinaldi twin that would be favored by all and would one day rule. But to those she trusted, she would was the humble princess who knew of the corruption in the world.

→ PERSONALITY SUMMARY

Aurora is a sweet and loyal girl, who wants nothing more but to please everyone. It’s a conflicting trait, as not everyone can be pleased with what you do. Although she’s humble, there are times when she can be selfish and greed washes over her and she forgets about all the things that she’s seen. She’s a sarcastic and witty girl and even innocence still has a hold on her.

#skyler samuels #crime rp #mob rp #mature rp #gang rp #taken #rinaldi cartel

[thisislakewood]

→ IN CHARACTER INFORMATION

Character Name: Dominic Moretti

Characters Age: 36

Faceclaim Choice: Joel Kinnaman

Gender and Pronouns: Male, He/Him

Birthplace: Messina, Italy

Birthday: November 25th

Occupation: Owner of Giuseppe’s Restaurant

Family: In favour of the Rinaldi Family

Position:  Lieutenant for the Rinaldi Family 

→ BIOGRAPHY

Giuseppe Moretti, was a good and honest man. By no means was he rich but he was a self-made man who pulled himself out of poverty and turned into a small time entrepreneur. Messina, Italy is where Giuseppe and his then pregnant wife, Martina, called home. His father opened up a small restaurant, feeding the locals and bidding them goodbye with a bright smile and a warm laugh. Giuseppe was a timid man, a weak one even, and wanted no part of the Mafia, whose presence loomed around the city like a dark shadow, but they remained civil and Giuseppe minded his own business.

While his father did his best to keep his family away from the illegal activities Dominic was drawn to it. Dominic always wanted something more than the simple life that his parents provided for them. He craved the excitement, the thrill and, most importantly, the power that came with higher social status. For most of his life, Dominic lived up to the role of the chosen one and the good son. His grades were decent but where Dominic really thrived was his in athletics become a well known boxer around town.

Dominic’s future was promising but money was always an issue for the Moretti’s. While the restaurant was doing okay, it still wasn’t enough to maintain a family of five. When his father passed away at the age of sixteen, life became even more difficult for him. His mother with left with the burden of running a business, raising three children and handling the mounting bills that came each month.

As the oldest, Dominic took it upon himself to step up to the plate and help his family. After graduation, he decided against pursuing a higher education in order to work and help take care of his siblings. Taking on a normal 9 to 5 job didn’t even occur to Dominic as he swore his allegiance to the Rinaldi family. It started off simple at first, beginning as an associate who helped push the Rinaldi’s drugs. Dominic began with the distribution and transport of cocaine wherever they needed to go.

Years of training made Dominic diligent and disciplined, his loyalty to the Rinaldi family never wavering. Most importantly, he was street smart. His local persona making it hard to believe he could ever break the law or be associated with the illegal doings of the Rinaldi family. While he continued to fight on the side for extra cash, he always was using it as a way to distribute and deal.

Over the years, he’s risen up in the ranks within the family. Going from an Associate to a Mule, after a decade of loyalty he earned the title Soldier. When Dominic was twenty-eight, he made the move to Lakewood, Texas to better serve the Rinaldi’s. The new title and opportunity was one he did not take lightly. The promotion and relocation meant not just a better life for him but his family. Even with an ocean and thousands of miles between them, Dominic still continues to take care of his family. Money is sent to Italy on bi-weekly basis and he even managed to put both his younger siblings through college. Of course, his mother never knew that the bills were getting paid with dirty money and Dominic does everything in his power to keep it that way. Almost a decade of serving the Rinaldi as a Soldier, Dominic received his latest promotion, earning the title of Lieutenant. In addition to his duties to the Rinaldi family, Dominic recently opened up Giuseppe’s, an Italian restaurant, in Lakewood to honor his father.

→ PERSONALITY SUMMARY

Positive Traits: Loyal, Resilient, Cunning, Disciplined

Negative Traits: Brash, Reserved, Short Tempered, Pessimistic

#joel kinnaman #crime rp #mature rp #mob rp #gang rp #taken #rinaldi cartel

[thisislakewood]

→ IN CHARACTER INFORMATION

Character Name: Ravenna Rinaldi

Character Age: 49

Faceclaim Choice: Madchen Amick

Gender and Pronouns: Female, She/Her

Birthplace: Messina, Italy.

Birthday: March 30th, 1969

Occupation: Diamond Heiress.

Family: Rinaldi

Position: Secretary for the Rinaldi Cartel.

→ BIOGRAPHY

Triggers: Parental abuse.

Royalty. It was the undefined circumstance of what set you apart from the masses of leeches and survivors. Where you belonged, the growth you could bring onto others. The notion that money was power and power was paid in the spilled blood of enemies. This was a secret best known by the highest of families. The Rinaldi’s were no different. For the sprawling castle-like mansions, diamonds that encrusted every being in a cloak, and the notion that even without literal crowns—Messina was theirs. This was the ideal, at least in one mind, that the younger of two children held, as she sat atop the highest hill, the pillars of marble within her vast home the backdrop. Ravenna Isabella Rinaldi was the woman who chilled the spine of many within her home. The product of insanity fused with democracy poised to depict a woman who easily could rule a kingdom with an iron fist—and at best, would burn the world down in her path. At least—she resided as that now. Ravenna Rinaldi was not the person who should’ve been questioned for her thoughts or actions. She was not the person to hide her true form, even in the face of danger or trouble, and every calculated action, every notion was done on behalf of a higher power that resolved from the God’s themselves: Rinaldi above all. At least, it’d been that way, initially. Of course, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree, and the actions of her own. Born on the cusp of a spring day in the humidity of Southern Italy, laid the only daughter of Giada Rinaldi meant she had grasped the greatness of all that resided in their own.

A son, to bear the name, and the daughter, to bear the legacy. How fitting would it be that she allow her mother to fall helplessly from this dream so easily. It wasn’t easy keeping someone sufficiently happy when all you did went against their beings. Born with a heart defect, and the needed surgeries later to suffice a long life, Ravenna quickly went from being the apple in her mother’s eye, to a diamond in the ruff—to coal. Cold, black, hardened, and useless coal. She’d given birth, brought into this world a defective child. There’d been cold, aloof notion that in the public eye, Ravenna, for as long as the nannies instructed her, to be kind to her mother, for she was broken. And child-like innocence would’ve prevailed in that, keeping Ravenna on the good side, keeping her demure and obedient. But nothing lasted forever, and her pre-teen patience wore thin. Almost immediately, when her mother struck her for the first time. Hard enough to bring a tear to her eye, the reddened palm bore against a porcelain cheekbone had left the lasting impression. That her mother was a glorified breeder, baring all the title without the work. That she was not her mother’s daughter, a woman of half-importance. That Ravenna’s blood ran deep with Rinaldi lineage. And that, above all else, she was a mother fucking Rinaldi. If her mother didn’t want her, she show them just how valuable she was.

It’d begun as it always had in troubled teens. Drinking turned to partying, partying turned to drugs, drugs turned to sexual misconduct with those much older than she. Inbreeds, and those her mother turned her nose up too were the most alluring to the only Rinaldi daughter. Glamour came with revelation, and the traditional, respectable clothes her mother would lay for her to wear to events turned sexual, barren and revealing, leaving nothing to the imagination. Of course, her father would only see so far, he had his own to deal with, what with her darling brother taking the helm of the Rinaldi name one day. Waging a war within a family was what all in the upper-class did. Ravenna simply did it better. Of course, the Cold war was not extended to all. Lorenz, for all his faults, all his wrongs and rights, had always been in her corner, and she in his. A devoted, loyal follower of her brother, into the darkest of bloodshed would she follow him. Chaos met insanity, and the both of them, complex and twisted in each their ways, were one. Ravenna trusted him to be honest to her, and she would be the same to him. But their woes, personal, would never be the same.

As she aged, moved along in her life, suitors from every corner came along. Catching the eye of the untameable woman was considered a trophy, as young and beautiful as she was, was an angel masking the demon within. Soft skin and doe-like eyes portrayed the look of a soulful woman, one who wouldn’t dare break the soul of another into pieces. One who loved, cared. Admired her partner. Of course, Ravenna was the one who went all against the teachings her parents laid. She was to be married to a man and have children at the appropriate age of eighteen was stalled—for seventeen year old Ravenna was simply here to be the life of the party. No matter the detrimental damage it was doing to her health and good fortune in the long run. Not that it resided long on her mind, as she locked lips with the vivacious men and women she met within the luxury clubs of Messina. She was here for a good, time, not a long time, and that statement rung true for every social event. All to be done to make her mother twitch.

In the realm of Sicily, though, time stood almost years less. Americans and their triviality to find advancement, while the walls of Italy’s boot-tip remained as they did. Cloyed within the sunny realm of their home, the passing of time never settled on them, and by the time of her eighteenth birthday, it was decided Ravenna was to stop her ways, her insecure need to branch out, find every button to set her parents off, and push every last one of them. Like a child on an elevator, threatening to disrupt the lift, they were done with her shit. It was a shame, for her parents, that they underestimated the being they toyed with. The fragile state of her wavering mind meant nothing was off limits. Suitors came and went. Each one entertained, all with the same exquisite nature she exuded. Flirtation, appreciation for their attention, and then—gone. Oh, some went missing. Some ran—some were smart enough to know she was the devil in disguise, and it was her who would call all the shots. Only the poorest of souls dared to think Ravenna could love such fools as them. It was simple, no one was good enough. No one ensnared her. No one captivated her in ways that demurely suggested she step down, back off, and let them be in control. If there was no option for a man to own her heart, her soul—how dare they think otherwise?

That was, of course, until he came along. Frenemies were worn as frequently as diamonds, and there was no secret the Rinaldi’s had many of them within their home land. So when offered yet another new man, a new soul to suck dry and leave floating in the abyss of her horror came along—it was almost laughable. The Leone family had been hated by their family as much as they had been loved—but betrayal outweighed the admiration, and there laid the truth: the darling ‘Princess Rinaldi’ would never fall into the hands of a Leone. Entertained by the final shatter to a broken glass relationship between her and her mother, only stalled momentarily by the strong loyalty she held to Lorenz. Ravenna would never go against her brother’s words. Brats, or so considered by their parents, she stood by the true player within the family. Reigns ended, and began. And so long as her marriage would be a dignified way to kill off the last of their lineage, dragging the name down in Ravenna’s mind, it would be done. Of course, it didn’t help that Alessandro boiled her blood to no end. The man was all she was not.

Alessandro Leone was both the poison to her soul, and surprisingly the saviour of her parent’s wishes. The man—oh, how she loathed him. How his quips and underhanded insults to her agitated her to no end. How her jaw clenched the mere seconds he was in a room, and furthered her anger when he smirked, smile—coy and inappropriate towards the so-called ‘Diamond Princess’ of the Rinaldi family, she wanted to wring his neck. How dare a man upset her so, push her to her last nerve—and compliment her. Demure and hidden, that’s all Alessandro was—like some dangerous enigma that could upset the persona she’d developed thus far. The toying of two families, even ones that had currently loathed one another—it was enough. Denying his advances, those one-liners of daring her to lean into temptation with him and bare her soul onto his—she wouldn’t. Until she saw just how badly it would anger her mother. Listed a mental case by the woman who birthed her was enough to anger the only Rinaldi daughter, but to consider her unlovable. It struck a chord so deep within frayed emotions that Ravenna had finally discovered just how easy it would’ve been to end her. Silence the witch and all she’d done for a life made of ease. She could be the only Rinaldi—she felt like that for so long. Hands itched to wrap around her mother’s throat, squeeze until the porcelain skin ran red and blue, suffocated from the lost air within her lungs. What a satisfying dream that would be.

Growing cold to her mother had been a feat over many of her young years, since a preteen. But now, as a twenty-year-old woman—there was time to be entitled, and time to be titled. Ignoring Alessandro had become sport, but giving into his notion, his words—a heart that longed for her as she for his—it was something so unexpected, colour Ravenna surprised. Not worldly, not at first, nor alluring as many of the handsome Italian men that had come and gone before him. But intoxicating. Like his thoughts melded with hers and wound up to become the disastrous mess they still were to that day. Tere had been no attraction, no wanton need, until his lips met hers in a furry upon the only evening she’d spent alone with him. Ravenna was infatuated. The kiss, like many reflected in old glamour, caused her head to float above the clouds and stop her mind. Stopping her thought process, silencing her—it was all that could be done to change a cold and calloused heart and soul. Ravenna Rinaldi, in all her worth, in all her troubled spirits and in all that spite, knew then and there—she would fall in love with Alessandro Leone—she would love him as her own.

Love turned to marriage, and in less than a year, she was married to her beloved Alessandro. Of course, there were turning points. For one, her sister-in-law, dutiful maid of honour, best friend, soul sister came above all else. To find someone like herself, a reflection was—everything. Someone, the only one, to challenge her love for Alessandro. Perhaps a sticky point for them both, but nevertheless, it was settled.  For everything important, Ravenna, in all her spite against her mother, never changed her name. She was faithful to her love, but to her core, in her veins, she was a Rinaldi. To find a man who respected that? Now that was the jackpot she needed. Ravenna loved Alessando so much, it was clockwork to give him the child she craved, to be the mother unlike her own. To love a child, bring it up to be a powerful being. For her husband, it was a product of them. Carrying his child, proudly displaying to the world all their luck. But it wasn’t so simple. Health complications due to lack of attentiveness after countless heart surgeries, poisoning her body with alcohol and drugs, abusing herself mentally from the lack of emotional support from her mother, it was—detrimental to everything she wanted to give Alessandro. Stress that she could not copulate their marriage properly terrified her. If she couldn’t give him a child—if he left her for her lessened achievements. If he left her—it stressed her, and their marriage.

To fear the worst about one’s self was to live in the shadows of all they had done wrong. So many, didn’t make it right, and here she was. Begging and pleading silently, if she was the obedient wife, the loving wife. If she remained him, as she always had, faithfully. If she kept trying and trying and trying, weakening her body and soul, all in the name to give him something. Of course, her thoughts didn’t match his, as she all but worked tirelessly after six years to all but kill herself in giving him a child. Alessandro had made it clear—her above all. Her faults were not her doing. Her judgement was—ill, of course—but justified. He loved her. And when time came to unleash the demons, the skeletons within her closet, to open the doors to him… it was eye-opening. That he loved her, above all things, above all people. She was his, and he was hers. Time passed, as it did, as they worked to love one another again, even if just two people, alone in the world. Fate turned, gave them another chance, a reckoning. One that mattered. Pregnancy had been so struggling, exhausting. Weakened both of them. When she’d discovered her own pregnancy, when she finally could say the words ‘I’m pregnant’ to her husband, euphoria broke. Happiness filled the Rinaldi-Leone home to the news of their happiness. Ravenna had lucked out, after years of failure. By that time, her brother and his wife had children, moved to Lakewood, Texas, and left their life in Sicily. Fearful of flights, tampering any chance to lose the child, Ravenna and Alessandro stayed behind, well until after the birth of their daughter Bianca.

Three years after her birth, Bianca showing no signs of her mother’s health issues as an infant, feeling luck exude, the family had made the decision. Her brother, her best friend, all that she knew and love resides within a small town, where riches were saved for the opulently wealthy, and power came with status. It was—well, it wasn’t Messina, nor the castle-like home in which she resided, but recreating her life in Lakewood was easy enough. She had her child, she had her beloved—her brother and sister-in-law. Nieces and nephews. All of it was here, all that mattered. Surely, Lakewood—in its horrible setting, the dust that settled. But Ravenna had found a calling. To join the cartel, her family’s legacy, it all felt right. Surely with the massive amount of wealth from the diamond trade, it was easy to sustain a life for her, her beloved, and their child. All that mattered now was simple. Either you were with the Rinaldi’s; or you were on Ravenna’s burn list. And she always followed through with her list.

→ PERSONALITY SUMMARY

+ Brilliant, Alpha-Female, Loyal - Cruel, Sarcastic, Calculated

#madchen amick #bio rp #lsrpg #town rpg #murder rp #taken #rinaldi cartel

[thisislakewood]

→ IN CHARACTER INFORMATION

Character Name: Alessandro Leone

Character Age: 46

Faceclaim Choice: David Tennant

Gender and Pronouns: Cis male, he/him

Birthplace: Messina, Italy

Birthday: April 11th, 1972

Occupation: Consultant of the Rinaldi Cartel

Family: Rinaldi

→ BIOGRAPHY

Wicked grin, fluorescent suits, snarky remarks, wasted potential. The genius who amounted to nothing. There’s no description that does Alessandro Leone, the Consultant to the Rinaldi Cartel and the husband to Ravenna Rinaldi, more justice than that. Perfectly satisfied to live in one shadow or the other, he operates from the wine-scented pile of papers and body bags of his office, constantly exasperated by the stupidity of people around him, but fiercely devoted to the family he serves: on his own blood and dreams, he has long ago given up.  

The half-Sicilian, half-Sardinian Leone family was one of the famous jewelers from Messina: equally ambitious and traditional as the Rinaldis, but nowhere as powerful, which made them the perfect allies. Fifty years ago, their pride and joy Frederico Leone married a distant Rinaldi cousin, and together they had three children: Giovanna, Ottavio, and Alessandro, the middle of the three, who was branded the black sheep of the family ever since he was old enough (which, in his case, was unusually early) to speak and think on his own. Underweight, with his mousy hair, plain face, and knobby knees, he looked nothing like his handsome younger brother and stunning, raven-haired older sister, but even that wasn't his main flaw. While Giovanna and Ottavio did everything in their power to impress their strict, demanding (but, in Alessandro's eyes, not particularly clever) father, attended social gatherings and learned the ways of the family business, Alessandro preferred the company of books. Comics, novels, science books, you name it, he devoured it. In school, however, he was bored and never hesitated to show it: the lessons were laughable for the boy with an IQ of 170, who had already taught himself several languages and solved math equations way past the college level. But when his teachers suggested he moved into the program for gifted children, or even looked into scholarships outside of Italy, his father barked that his son was not a freak, and made him stay right there where he was. In hell, Alessandro would say, stuck with the rich dumbasses whose peak sense of humor was giving him wedgies, or, alternatively, slamming his head into the locker on their way to the cafeteria.

His son wasn't a freak, his father had said. Well, tough luck, old man, cause that's exactly what he became to him. In his father's eyes, the adult Alessandro was even more useless than the child version: too weak, too nerdy, too feminized (whatever the hell that meant) too unlike the heir Fredo Leone had dreamed of. It wasn't long before he put all his trust into Giovanna instead, and officially left the family business and wealth in her hands, leaving Alessandro a nuisance he always was. But knowing his father was too proud and stuck up to disown him for real, he decided to use the situation to the maximum. As in, to spend the fuck out of his money while giving nothing in return. Not like he was dying to be the head of the family, anyway. This way, instead of the ordeals of becoming the true Leone heir, Alessandro’s younger days were filled with goalless travels, casinos, parties, and brief, drunken affairs with countless women and just as many men. Granted, he wasn't Apollo, but he had money, intelligence, and that crude, clever charm they couldn’t resist. Sadly, only a few of them he actually cared about, and even that could never last longer than a week.

There was only one woman who managed to hold his attention: Ravenna Rinaldi. Reckless, rich, beautiful, and equally fucked up. Way out of his league, though. So Alessandro settled (as he always did) for a snark-filled friendship and drunken nights with nameless individuals until, after a few years, Ravenna finally turned to him. He couldn't believe his luck, and neither could their families: at last, God had granted them a way to salvage what could be salvaged of their misbegotten children. Both the Rinaldis and the Leones blessed the marriage, and soon enough, the pair was wed in a traditional Sicilian ceremony in Messina.

The circus and his family’s hypocrisy aside, to Alessandro, this was the turning point: his ever-growing love for Ravenna made him give up gambling, reduce the drinking, and stop with all the wild partying, unless it involved her, and it often did. They then got involved in the Rinaldi family business, and lived happily ever after in their functional dysfunctionality. Or so the story would go, had they not followed Ravenna’s brother and sister-in-law to the Land of Hamburgers.

It happened soon after the birth of their only daughter Bianca, their little miracle: Alessandro and Ravenna left their families and relocated to Lakewood, Texas, where they live, work, and terrorize to this day. Upon their arrival, Alessandro was given the Consultant position by his brother-in-law, the new President. Which, in any normal cartel, is a position of respect and importance, but in the Rinaldi Cartel, one of a glorified valet: it’s the voice of the President’s wife that had come miles before his even before she had any official title, let alone now. In the meantime, Alessandro spends most of his days in his office, buried in paperwork and running errands, as if it's the Rinaldis’ way of reminding him just how much he owes them. But he doesn’t mind. Not that much, anyway. He has no ambitions left other than protecting his family. And for Ravenna and Bianca, there's nothing he won't do.

→ PERSONALITY SUMMARY

+ rational, loyal, intelligent -  manipulative, vain, obnoxious

#david tennant #mafia rp #oc rp #gang rp #mafia rpg #taken #rinaldi cartel