Sora could almost smile, if he was a normal person. Unfortunately his public image included a lot of neutral expression and he wasn’t about to let that slip until he found himself back at home. He couldn’t help but compare the Venturi’s boss to a toddler.. You know, the kind of moment where they smear paint all over their shirt but still smile? That would be cute. She… she was just messy.

He had no reason to react to any of the lower members just yet, so he didn’t. He ignored them and focused solely on Lucrezia. It was almost a task to sit across from someone so ill mannered. He completely ignored her reply and continued on, making sure to pay no attention to her little revenge comment.

“Nobody here is happy, that much is clear. We need to start acting… friendly,” Sora paused, as if saying that them having to even tolerate each other was a chore to him mentally. “A new casino, Mirage Nine, has opened up and we will be attending as a show of support for the owner. It might be a good place to get the truce into the public a bit more, and have a little fun while we’re at it.”

Mirage 9 was a building Sora had already walked around in. He knew the layout. The owner of the casino was a woman named Xiomara Kasey. Xiomara was a friend of Sora’s, if friend meant that she owed him a couple favors. The building was tall and luxurious, with three floors total, and two welcome to the public. The first floor was the most casual. It was designed to be more relaxing, with the lights down low. The most dominant colour was red, with a matching of black. The first floor has a semi circle bar on the right side, middle of the room.

The second floor was where the real gambling actually happened. Sora had no idea what games would be set up just yet, since the last time he checked the building was before they had fully planned everything out. All he really knew were the locations of each room, the colours on the walls and that the third floor was where they held the illegal games. Illegal only due to it being packed with mafia members. The Morelli’s were strict about it, making sure nobody broke the rules or cheated. He would say almost all his family members were smart enough to win, or at least make profit, without needing to cheat.

And just as he finished speaking, there came Byron. Finally, Sora watched him out of the corner of his eye as he approached. He couldn’t decide between internally eye rolling or internally laughing when he got called ‘father adjacent’. He motioned subtly for Byron to sit on the chair closest to him, to the right side. At least he was here now, and not two hours in the future.

“Welcome.” Sora’s voice became softer when he spoke to Byron, definitely a sign of a favourite person. Although the tone change was difficult to catch if you hadn’t been studying him for quite a while.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Adam Steiner | Morrelli Member | M : Cao, Lucy (Dir.) Everyone else (ind.)

The restrained manner of the environment around the man stressed him out. It was clear to the Austrian that the rest nearby knew that the group wasn't just civilians such as themselves. His eyes flickered to look at the man who nudged his leg under the table. “You got dust on my slacks.” He scolded, shaking his head at the man, fighting a small smirk off his face as he rubbed the leather sole of his own shoe down the man's leg, a look that dared “Bon-bon” to challenge it. It was like two kindergarteners trying to one-up each other. To see who could get the last kick in. He who did was clearly the winner. “Ivan…” He muttered. “I will not remember that.”

His lingering gaze followed the Venturi family members around as they begun to arrive. So sloppy, insufferable, and dirty, just like animals. They all acted feral, and it felt dirty to share the same air as these beasts. He shook his head at the waiter; it was too early in the day to eat, let alone drink, not that he would eat in front of a strange crowd. He leaned back in his chair as the boss-lady (he'd been told her name, and even had it written down on the palm of his hand and yet he still couldn't remember it.) Sat down. His withering glare turned to her. The man's jaw was clenched as he watched every small move she did. The subtle twitch of her eye, her wandering gaze. However, Adam had not been prepared whatsoever for what came next. Cao's steak was placed to the left of him. He'd turned his head to gaze down at it and out of the corner of his eye, he saw it. “I-” He sat in stunned silence for a moment before leaning towards his friend. “I think she has the uh, the rabies. Don't let her bite you.” He whispered in his ear, watching her with a concerned look. “Do they not feed you when you are kept in the closet?” He asked her, leaning towards her slightly, “Must you act feral in public? It looks bad on not only you, but those associated with you.” He said bluntly.

Adam sat back, shutting his mouth when Sora interjected. He watched his boss with a certain fondness behind the voids of his blue eyes. Sora had been his savior when he first came to America. He knew that he'd only been helped because of his mother's ties, but the loyalty to the man was solid. He quietly nodded along to Sora's statements, leaning slightly in towards Caoilfhiom. He was the person that he was most comfortable with in a room full of danger, and in typical fashion, he was sticking close to those familiar, after all, the other guys might bite him. Gambling… it was tough. He just couldn't understand the concept of it with his tiny tot brain. What was fun about watching your bank account drain? A heavy sigh escaped the man thinking about being stuck under the same roof with the idiots across the table.

Bryan was late, per usual. He tracked the man as he came towards them. He had a watch on his wrist, why didn't he use it? Once the tardy party sat down, Adam listened to the rest of the shots getting fired back and forth. Insults? They weren't insults if they were true, but he kept his mouth shut, daydreaming about the piece he'd seen just half an hour ago. Oh how he would kill to be there again, surrounded by the calm environment of the museum with the smell of old painting, the stark beauty of it all, and instead he was packed into a mediocre restaurant like a sardine with a family he couldn't stand. He didn't show it in his body language, but he agreed with Caoilfhiom on the headache he would be suffering from later. Not only were the people themselves a migraine and a half, but the odd mixture of perfumes and colognes did not sit well with the man. One minute it was floral and the next it was another. It was one of the worst experiences. This couldn't be held in a park where they could just bury the body if it came to it? Adam's gaze went to his boss, watching how he softened for Byron.

Neasa Ní Dhomhnaill | Venturi Member | Indirectly Mentions: The Venturi and Morelli Family

Neasa watched the tension build like static before a storm. It was Mishka who spoke first, trying to smooth over the frayed edges before they split wide open. Neasa’s brow arched subtly, not at Mishka’s words, but at the boldness of the action of a lower ranking member. Right on cue, Ivan's voice followed, low and controlled.

Neasa’s gaze drifted to Sora as he spoke. A casino? Public appearance? She tilted her head slightly. She’d seen the building from the outside, looming and gaudy in its ambition, but had never set foot inside. It reeked of spectacle. Typical Morelli: all flash, no substance.

Her attention sharpened at the blonde Morelli boy’s arrival. Sora barely missed a beat, gesturing for him to sit nearest to him, like the whole room wasn’t one wrong word away from setting itself alight.

“Must you act feral in public? It looks bad on not only you, but those associated with you.” The man seated beside Caoilfhionn spoke. His words landed heavily, his tone as blunt and sharp as the blade it was clearly meant to be.

Before Neasa could even scoff – or close her gaping mouth at the sheer audacity of a lower-ranking member's disrespect – Lucy's snarl cut through the air like a knife, low and sharp. And then, of course, came Renato.

The specter, the leash, the loyal shadow – whatever the hell he was, he moved like a predator who’d already decided where to sink his teeth. Right behind the mouthy Morelli. Predictable.

Neasa rolled her eyes, jaw clenching as her patience thinned. So much for acting friendly, she thought. The man's comment had already burned the olive branch before anyone could reach for it.

She crossed one leg over the other, leaned slightly back in her chair, and exhaled through her nose. Her expression was neutral, but the pulse in her jaw betrayed her restraint.

This was supposed to be diplomatic. But the posturing, the snide remarks, the silent threats – none of this was surprising. It was exhausting. And worse, it was exactly what she expected from people raised in houses like the Venturi and Morelli.

“Should we all just piss in a circle and be done with it?” she muttered under her breath, the rare bite in her tone slipping out before she could stop it. She was concerned Renato's bold move would make things worse.

Normally, her patience ran far deeper. But passive aggression? Pettiness? Games? She had little tolerance for them. And yet, here she was – forced to sit through it, forced to entertain it. It crawled under her skin like a splinter. She didn’t like wasting her time, and she especially didn’t like being forced to dance for the sake of egos wrapped in expensive suits and family names.