A rose by any other name...[M]{DamoniquexBrokecollege}

[Damonique]

Rated M for stong language, drug and alcohol use, blood and Gore, sexual themes and content, and physical and emotional violence. Don't say I didn't warn you...

First Day

The day was overcast, as was his mood, as Darien sat staring out the tinted windows in the backseat of a huge black Mercades. The car would stand out anywhere, but especially in this part of town, and people were already taking notice.A few rough looking young men in baggy jeans and t-shirts crossed from the other side of the street to get a better look.

Darien knew the type, as did his driver, who rolled down his own window just long enough to disposess them of any ideas they might have. Just a quick glimpse was effective, and they scurried off to whatever hole they came from.

Darien paid him no further mind and turned back to the object of his attention. It was a small storefront wedged between a struggling bakery and a boarded-up hardware store. But despite it's dreary surroundings, it was vibrant.

Dozens of colors, hues, and shades clashed in the flower shop windows, but not unpleasantly. Whoever had arranged them had clearly put a lot of talent and effort into arranging the display for just the right effect.

Darien had been here before, though he'd never gone in. First years that felt like a lifetime ago, and more recently over the last few months. The driver looked back and opened his mouth as if to say something, but a good look at the expression on the bosses face stopped him before he started.

Darien himself looked down at his hands to find them shaking, ever so slightly, and clenched his fists tight to stop it. Too tightly, as pain blossomed where his well-manicured nails dug into his palms, very nearly sharply enough to draw blood. He took the pain without complaint, barely so much as gritting his teeth against it. It served it's purpose, helping him focus.

Suddenly, almost angrily, he threw open the door and stepped into the street and slammed it behind him, drawing wary glances out of the windows of the crammed-together apartment blocks on the other side of the street. The owners of those eyes were surely relieved when he headed the other way, towards the flower shop

The tall, dark-haired man stopped in front of the door to compose himself, carefully smoothing the creases out of the dark tailored suit fitted perfectly to him, adjusting the blood-red tie he wore about his neck, and checked the time on the silver Rolex on his right wrist against the scheduled hours hand-written on the sign on the door.

It was a little after Ten AM, the place had been open for about an hour, but probable not very busy yet, if it ever was. Idly, he wondered if it was possible she had written those words, years ago. Unlikely, stores changed hours, signs wore out...he realized he was stalling, and with a sharp, uncharicteristic intake of breath before stepping forward and pushing open the door.

There was a single, crisp chime of a bell when the latch opened, alerting the shops sole occupant of a customer's arrival.

[brokecollege]

When she was younger, Delphine had wanted to be a teacher. It did not matter to her what subject she taught--in fact, the only thing that mattered was that she had a classroom of her own, and thirty-one kids who she could passionately teach and inspire. She liked to think that if her father hadn't fallen sick, and that if she hadn't had to drop out of college during the first semester, then maybe she would have completed that dream.

Delphine frowned suddenly before she quickly shook her head and stood from her seat. What was she doing, fantasizing about such things? If she had time to let her mind wander, then she could be doing something else! Like, paying the bills or organizing the arrangements for the windows and displays. The young woman adjusted the apron that hung around her neck and, with her lips pursed in determination, grabbed an armful of colorful flowers.

She set them neatly on the table in the backroom and, after grabbing a few other necessary tools, got to work creating arrangements. She remained seated at that table until an hour later when the faint sound of a bell chiming caught her attention. Customer. She glanced over to a nearby clock, and then furrowed her brow. A customer so early in the morning? Her usuals did not show up until later in the afternoon, usually after work or during their breaks.

She placed her unfinished arrangement down onto the table before she rushed out to greet the customer. "Hello, there!" she greeted as she approached the lone customer.

But after greeting him, Delphine was brought to a pause. Most of Delphine's customers consisted of weary single mothers, older women seeking to add to their gardens, and the occasional boyfriend looking for an arrangement to appease his annoyed girlfriend. This man did not fit in any of those categories. He was tall and dark, and extremely handsome. She wondered, for a brief moment, if the man had ever modeled in his life.

He must have. How else could he afford such a fancy suit and fancy accessories? I mean, that watch that was wrapped around his wrist looked as if it was worth more than Delphine's life and her store combined! But if he could afford such things, then why was he on this side of town in Delphine's little shop? Delphine, realizing she was staring, cleared her throat and smiled. "Hello, welcome to Louise's Garden. Did you need help looking for anything, sir?" she questioned.

[Damonique]

Darien was already having second thoughts as the door opened fully and he stepped across the threshold into the store, thoughts whirling through his head. What was he even doing here?

He had important business to attend to. His people, and his enemies, would think less of him, surely. Grigori wouldn't say anything, but there were eyes all over the city, and the people loved to gossip. Besides, even if the woman was here, what would he say to someone he had never met, knew barely anything about and surely knew nothing of himself.

But the doubts quieted when he breathed deep and the scents washed over him. Lily, Jasmine, Hiacinth, Rose...and Delilah. These flowers and half a hundred more, many he couldn't name by smell or sight. The shop swirled with color to his vision, not just the color of the actual flowers, but tracers representing the myriad scents blurring together. His sometimes curse, sometimes blessing of synesthesia acting up.

It was sudden and overwhelming enough to induce vertigo, and he stumbled forward, hands shooting out to catch hold of a display table to retain his balance, closing his eyes and taking several deep breaths until it passed.

Only when he opened his eyes again did he realize he was no longer alone. And not with who he was expecting, either. He quickly stood up straight, brushing an imaginary hair from his shoulder, and observed the girl before him, deep blue-greys widening by the second.

His lips parted to let out an imperceptable name under his breath that was lost in the distance between them. No, it wasn't a ghost he was seeing, Darien hadn't lost his mind yet. Close though, almost uncannily so. But as he studied her, the differences became obvious.

She was young, early twenties, and slighter of build, a few inches shorter. Reddish hair was more a rich auburn than deep crimson, tied back in a braid similar to his own. Fairer, pale skin was dusted with freckles that brought out soft emerald eyes. Pretty, yes, but not the beauty he was imagining. He had missed her first question in the moment, but caught the second clearly.

"Hello, welcome to Louise's Garden. Did you need help looking for anything sir?" She asked in a trilling voice, and Darien nearly smiled despite his confusion. The kindness in the girls tone was palpable

"Actually, I was looking for Ms. Louise herself. Is she in?" He asked in a low voice, almost without thinking.

[brokecollege]

For a moment, the man just stared at Delphine. He looked startled by her presence, almost as if he had been expecting someone other than Delphine to step forward and offer help. When he did speak, it was only to utter something--though, it was voice was so soft and so faint that she could not understand what it was that had been said. Another moment of silence passed between the two before the man, in a more firm and clear voice, admitted that he needed some help.

And while she expected that help to revolve around finding a certain flower or preparing an arrangement, she was surprised to find that was not the case. The man was actually looking for a person--more specifically, her mother. Her smile faltered for a brief moment, before returning to its bright and cheery state. "Ms. Louise does not visit the store very often these days--" because she couldn't, as the poor woman was confined to the bed due to her health.

"--but I am her daughter, Delphine. If there is any business that you have with her, then I would be more than happy to relay a message to her." She paused suddenly, her bright eyes glancing over the man. Wait. He was a wealthy man looking for her mother? Could it be that this man was from the insurance company, and that is why he had been caught off guard by Delphine's presence? She bit the inside of her cheek.

She knew that she was a few months behind on her payments, but did that blasted company really have to send someone in to terrorize them about it?! Well, if he was from the insurance company, then Delphine simply wouldn't relay his message to her mother. The woman was already suffering through so much, there was no need to add stress about bills and the payments. She gestured towards the nearby counter.

"If you would like, sir, you can write down your name and number on a piece of paper for her." she offered before she walked over to the counter. She dug through the drawers before she pulled out a pad of paper, and an old ink pen with a random Hotel name scribbled across it. She returned to the man, paper and pen in hand, and offered it to him with a smile.

[Damonique]

Darien took a moment to process what the girl was telling him. This wasn't Louise O'Neill, but her daughter, Delphine. The name did ring a bell, but before he could put his finger on it, the girl became a flurry of activity.

After her warm introductions, the colder, businesslike way Delphine spoke after he'd asked for her mother came as quite a shock. Had he somehow offended her? It seemed doubtful, he'd hardly said a dozen words put together. Perhaps she realized who he was? Also unlikely. If she did, she would be more polite, not less.

Whatever brought on her change of tone was personal. He recalled her downcast expression when mentioning her mother.. that could be it. He had known Make. Louise had not been well, even back then, clearly, the situation had gotten worse.

"My condolences, Miss Delphine...." He stated almost automatically after putting those facts together, and then considered the pen and notepad she offered for a moment before placing his strong hands around her small ones and gently pushing away the pen and pad. Her fingers were patterned and calloused to guard against prickles and thorns, stained the light green of chlorophyll.

"That won't be necessary. I was just checking in for a..." He paused, considering his next words carefully. "..an old friend." He settled on, releasing her hands to make a waving gesture as if to say it was unimportant.

Darien turned as if to leave, realising there was nothing here for him but heartache, but stopped and turned back around to regard Delphine. It would be rude of him to walk out without buying something, and after all, it was an anniversary, if not the happy one it could have been.

"Actually, I think you could help me with something. I'd like to buy a rose, just one. Red or white, makes no difference. Thorned, preferably." He stated in the same confident tone he conducted all his business in, polite but somewhat forceful.

[brokecollege]

Delphine was brought to a pause when the man spoke his condolences. His condolences? Before she could ask why he would offer such a thing, the man reached forward and gently pushed the pen and paper that Delphine held away from him. Her offer was not necessary, he said, as he was just checking in for an old friend. So.. he was not from the insurance company. But, then, what old friend of his could have had business with her mother?

She doubted this man--or any of his friends, for that matter--ever ran with the same circles as her mother. The young woman slowly nodded her head as she pulled the pen and paper to her chest. She thought about asking about this old friend of his, out of pure curiosity, but just as she was about to open her mouth the man turned around in preparation to leave. She watched him for a moment before she, too, turned to go about her day.

Though, before she could fully turn around the man had turned back towards her to speak again. This time, he asked Delphine to help him in purchasing a single, thorned rose. How odd was that--Delphine did not think she had ever recieved a request for a thorned rose before. She nodded her head, "Of course, sir." she turned on her heel and headed to the back, where she retrieved an untouched red rose from one of her fridges.

She returned to the counter with the rose and some tissue paper. "Your total will be $3.50, sir." she informed as she gently placed the rose onto the tissue paper. There was a pause before she continued. "Thorned roses are very rarely asked for." she admitted as she gently folded the tissue paper over the stem of the rose. "I think it has something to do with their meaning. A thornless rose symbolizes love at first sight, you see. But the torns of a rose symbolize loss and thoughtlessness."

The young florist grabbed a red ribbon and tied it around the wrapping paper that now held the rose, securing it in its place. "Or, it just could have something to do with their tendency to poke people." she finished. She picked up the rose and offered it to the man with a smile. "Your rose, sir."

[Damonique]

Darien listened intently to the redhead's words as she went to fetch the flower for him, explaining the difference in meaning between Roses with and without thorns, and he nodded along with the explaination.

He already knew this, which was why he'd made his request just so. His Delilah had taught him that, and much more besides. She had known nearly everything one could know about flowers, learned from Delphine's mother, old Mrs. Louise.

"Myself, I always pick the painful truth over the gentle lie. The thorned roses tell the truth, that love comes with pain. The ones without are the liars." Darien stated in an even tone, waxing philosophy. It was something of a habit, giving Delphine a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes when she presented him with the Rose.

Again, he found the resemblence striking as Delphine spoke of flowers in her lyrical tone, though he knew it was more a trick of his mind than the reality. Upon hearing the total, he reached into his back pocket and retrieved a fine leather wallet, monogrammed with the initials D.F. in embossed silver script and opened it.

There was a lone fifty-dollar bill folded in between the sheafs of personal and corporate cards and identification. He considered just using a card before looking again into Delphine's soft green eyes, and then fetched out the bill, pressing it into her palm with one hand and collecting his rose with the other, tucking the stem carefully into his breast pocket.

When he inhaled, the heady aroma of the flower was overpowering, framing Delphine's reddish hair with wisps of deep cherry red flowing like smoke. It was breathtaking...and familiar. He was staring so intently that he forgot he was still holding on to the fifty until she reached for it, brushing his hand with hers, and he let go of the bill with a start.

"Please, keep the change. And thank you very much, Delphine." He stated in a low, almost breathless tone, and turned toward to storefront to see his tone was running short. Grigori,his massive, clean-shaven bodyguard, was standing beside the open driver's door of the Mercades, peering in and waving when he caught Darien's eye.

[brokecollege]

Thorned roses tell the truth, the man said, of which was that with love comes pain. Delphine let out a quiet, 'hmph' in thought. What a truly bleak perspective of love this man had. When she told him the total, the man reached into his back pocket and pulled from it a leather wallet with fine, silver lettering going across it. The man opened the wallet and, after a second of thought, pulled a bill from between the folds.

Delphine offered the man her free hand to place the money in, which he did. But he did not let it go immediately--instead, he held it in the palm of his hand, his grey eyes peering down at Delphine with a mixture of emotions she could not decipher. When he realized he was staring, he released the money from his grasp and told Delphine to keep the change. She looked down, expecting a crisp five dollar bill to have been placed in her hand.

But, instead, she was greeted with a fifty dollar bill. The man then turned around to leave the store, but before he could take a step forward, Delphine interrupted him. "It exists. Love without pain. You've just yet to find it." she tucked the fifty dollar bill into the register and, even though the man was turned around, smiled. "Have a good rest of your day, sir. And thank you for your generous tip." with that being said, Delphine adjusted the apron that she wore and returned to the backroom.

Love was beautiful. It was kind. It was forgiving, it was generous, it was the one thing in this world that truly mattered. Delphine would know, because it was Delilah that told her that all those years ago. And there was no woman more truthful or more genuine with her words than her. God, the way her eyes sparkled when she described love to Delphine... the redhead would never forget it.

[Damonique]

Darien heard Delphine's kind words echo behind him, but didn't turn to face her. If he had, she would have been able to see the combination of bitterness and sadness that seeped into his features at the sweet sentiment.

"It exists. Love without pain. You've just yet to find it." Said the girl who truly knew nothing of what she was speaking of, her naivete showing. It was a harsh thought, not innacurate, but still unkind. The fresh, crisp scent of rose still filling his head, he recalled Delilah had been much the same at not much older...it was natural of the innocent to see the best in the world and the people around them.

"A sweet thought, but the world is not a poem, nor a play with happy endings." He whispered absently, in way of parting, as much to himself as to Delphine just before he reached for the door. But the words brought another thought unbidden to his mind...Unless one wrote their own script.

With that in mind, Darien left the store without another word, leaving behind only the money and the tinkling of the bell to indicate he had ever been there. When he reached the car, he started Grigori with a request he hadn't made on nearly a year.

"Take me to the cemetery....to her."

[brokecollege]

-approximately one week later

"Could you loan me some money?" "Why? Are you behind on your bills again?" "Just a little bit." there was a pause, and then a long sigh. "Delphine, this is the sixth month in a row you've been behind in your bills. Don't you think that it is time for a different approach? Maybe, even, a more... radical one?" a young, feminine vioce questioned. Delphine frowned, as she already knew where her friend was heading. But Delphine could never do that.

This business meant everything to Delphine's family. She could not sell it just because they have had a rough couple of years. "No," Delphine stated, her voice more firm than it had ever been. "I can't do that. I won't. Besides, this is the last month that I'll be behind, I--" "You said that last month. And the month before. And the month before that one. When does it end, Delphine?" Rosa's question had the young woman pursing her lips together. She should not have called Rosa--as good of a friend as the woman was, she always ended up turning their conversations into lectures.

"You know what," Delphine sighed as she scratched the back of her head. "I have to go. There's a ton of arrangements I have to work on, and customers I have to tend to..." the redhead trailed off as she stood from the metal barstool she had seated herself upon. "I'll call you later, Rosa." with that being said, Delphine hung up the phone and tossed it onto the table. Well, shit. She ran her hands over her face in frustration.

If she could not get money through her friends, then she would have to find another way. Although, she did not know if any other ways existed. At least, other ways that did not end up with her having to make an agreement with a loan shark. The redhead grabbed an armful of arrangements she had made the night before and begrudgingly made her way to the front of the store where she, like every other week, got to work re-arranging the window display.

[Damonique]

Darien once again found himself in front of the flower shop, as he had twice before in the last week, since his first chance meeting with Delphine. Grigori accompanied him now instead of staying in the car, but always waited outside, flanking the door.

The bodyguard had insisted on that, for Darien's protection. This street wasn't in their part of the city, and by now his visits had to have become common knowledge. While Darien could have ordered him off, he knew not to second-guess the people who kept him safe.

Part of him wondered what kept him coming back, but as the door opened before him and the myriad floral scents and colors reached his nose and eyes, he was reminded. Be now, he was well enough used to it that it no longer overwhelmed his senses.

He was dressed more casually than his previous visits, owing the warm weather, fitted suit discarded in favor of only a black-and-red checkered vest over a white exercise shirt that proudly displayed his toned, tanned biceps. Of course, he was still ornamented, this time with a silver pocket watch chain trailing from his breast pocket and an inscribed silver bracelet flush to the skin halfway up his right arm.

His hair was a loose black mane rather than a careful braid, and he was actually smiling for once as he turned to regard Delphine, who was hard at work rearranging the displays. Sadly, her mood did not seem nearly as bright, as she arranged the flowers with an uncustomary urgency, lips pursed, clearly agitated.

"Something wrong?" He asked casually when she turned to face him. By now there was little need for pleasantries. She knew him by his first name, and a little of his life from their short conversations.

That he owned a few bars and an import-export business on the wharf, and enjoyed books, classic movies, and sailing. All truths, if not the whole truth.

[brokecollege]

Delphine furrowed her brows as she pulled the previous arrangement from its place. When the previous week's arrangement was discarded in the bucket, she grabbed the new arrangement and began to fix the window. The redhead was so focused on fixing the window arrangement--or, focused on the swirling thoughts in her mind--that she did not notice when someone entered her shop. It was not until someone spoke that Delphine finally snapped out of what she was doing.

She looked away from the window in surprise, though she relaxed upon seeing a tall, looming figure. Darien. "Oh, hello. I didn't hear you come in," she admitted as she stepped away from the window. She wiped her hands against the dirty apron that she wore before she folded her hands together in front of her. Was something wrong? She smiled--yes. Something was wrong. She was extremely behind in all of her payments.

The insurance company was breathing down her back, her landlord was pretty much prepared to evict her, and the funeral home was getting tired of waiting around for her payments. "No, everything is fine. I have just been working a little too hard lately." she lied. Actually, she has not been working hard enough. If she had been, then maybe all of her payments would be up to date. The redhead gestured towards the counter.

"Are you here for another thorned rose?" she hummed. Ever since his first visit a week ago, Darien had returned to Delphine's shop for more thorned roses. Not every day, mind you, but every once in a while he would pop in, share some conversation with the redhead, and then be on his way with his rose. Though, she noticed, this was the first time Darien came to the shop in more relaxed clothing. And he was.. smiling? She bit the inside of her cheek--it looked good on him. The clothes, and that smile.

She glanced over towards the front door of the shop, unsurprised to find Darien's friend waiting outside. He did so every time Darien came into the shop, though Delphine never understood what for. She turned her attention back to Darien, the faint smile still on her face. "I just got some fresh roses in this morning. Thorns and all." she hummed as she bent down and picked up her bucket. She then turned and walked to the counter.

[Damonique]

As practiced as he was at it, Darien knew when someone was telling half-truths to disguise a lie. Just working a little too hard...that was all. And he believed that.

Delphine had the possibly the best work ethic he'd ever seen, especially in one so young. She was always working, in the shop from very nearly dawn to dusk, even when it wasn't open. Always busy, either handling the flowers, making arrangements and carefully cultivating the live examples, or on the phone, likely looking for new business.

Most girls her age would be in college, spending half their time studying and the rest out on the town, partying, dating, living. But not her. But it wasn't just the workload that was getting to her, Delphine loved the shop and her work, poured her soul into it.

It was that wicked trap, the root of all evil, Money, that had her concerned. Darien knew, he had people to find out, that the shop was behind on it's lease, her credit card had long since reached it's limit, and the insurance had lapsed. The business was on the edge of bankruptcy and had been since her father's death.

Darien could make all of that disappear, he knew. And surely Delphine knew as well, everything about him just exuded wealth and privilege. But still, she never asked. It was refreshing, as he was surrounded night and day by people who wanted something from him.

That was another thing he respected about her, weather it came from wisdom or pride. Himself, Darien had learned early that nothing is truly free, that everyone who gave charity either wanted something from the one they gave to, or absolution for their own uncountable sins.

"Of course, just the one..." He stated absently ah he watched her bend over to pick up her bucket, sun streaming off her cherry hair, mingling with the bright tracers of myriad colors that floated through the shop, and his eyes followed the dip of her narrow shoulders, down the arch of her back, to the singularly provocative view presented at such an angle, he was reminded that he could do with as much of the first as the latter. Truly, it had been far too long.

But that would come later... He thought ruefully, and bit his lip to fight off the urges and fantasies that came unbidden to his mind, and the hungry curve had returned to that easy smile by time she turned to face him from behind the counter.

"Perhaps you could do with a weekend off, or at least an evening. The East End theater is about to put on Hamlet, and there's a gala next weekend at the Iranian Consulate...." He continued, almost as an aside, seeming to not even notice how utterly foreign and abjdctly boring both offerings would seem to a twenty-two year old woman of the middle class.

That was intentional, Darien hardly expected Delphine to accept, especially given her schedule. But the offering was important because it was the first time he had broached the idea of their 'relationship', whatever it was, expanding beyond these four walls and the span of fifteen minutes.

[brokecollege]

Of course, he stated, just the one. Delphine would be lying if she said that she was not curious about Darien, or about his habit of buying a single thorned rose. He had spoken a little about himself during their occasional conversations, but not enough for Delphine to truly get to know him. Though, now that she thought about it, that was probably his intention. She was, after all, only the girl who sold him the occasional rose. She was not an acquaintance, or a friend, or a lover. Just a girl.

The redhead placed the bucket of wilting flowers down behind the counter before she scurried into the back room to retrieve what she needed. When what she needed was in her arms, she returned to the counter and began to prepare the rose. She was about halfway through the process of wrapping the rose up in tissue paper when Darien suddenly spoke, telling Delphine that she needed the weekend off. Or, even, just the evening. She almost laughed.

Delphine did not have the luxury of weekends of days of rest. No, she spent every waking moment in this store. From dawn to dusk, every day, seven days a week. And that would not change until every debt that she and her family had was paid off. Darien, however, continued. He spoke of the theater, and of a gala, and a handful other fancy words that Delphine could barely put together. This time, she did laugh. Just a little.

"While both of those things sound like extremely interesting events, I am afraid I'll be unable to attend either of them," Delphine informed as she grabbed a ribbon from one of the counter's drawers. She neatly tied a bow around the ribbon before she looked up at the older male and smiled. "Work is..." she sucked in a breath, "Work is never ending at Louise's Garden, and I'm afraid I'm the only one here to do it."

"But if you end up going to either of those events, I would love to hear about it when I see you again," she added as she offered him the wrapped rose. "One thorned rose wrapped to perfection. That will be $3.50." she hummed as she moved to type the transaction into the register.

[Damonique]

The man watched as Delphine carried out the ritual that had defined their interactions from the moment they first met, collecting a single, bright red rose, intact, thorns and all, from her freezers in the back of the shop, and set to preparing it.

A gentle brush of her fingers flared out the petals to fit everyone's idea of how a rose was supposed to look, and then those same deft and capable digits set to work folding and creasing translucent paper aroun the flower, careful to leave no stray thorn exposed.

Simply watching her at work was enough to bring unbidden memories to Darien's mind. Even without the flower shop to concern her, his Delilah had always treated plants with the utmost care, pruning and fertilizing, often speaking to them as if each and every one was a dear friend.

Truly, both were artists of an unappreciated art, care and talent wasted on people that couldn't comprehend the skill and dedication that went into something so simple as getting a pristine flower from one point to another, and Darien couldn't help but relate.

Again, Darien realized that he had been reminiscing rather than listening as Delphine's words finally reached his ears, expressing her regrets in regard to his facetious offer, punctuated by a trilling laugh that cut the tension despite it's insincerity. He laughed with her, though the amusement of it never made it to his stormcloud eyes.

"Fair enough, Ms. Oneill, I know as well as anyone that business comes first. Take care, and thank you for the Rose, as exquisite as always." He answered, suddenly more formal than he had been just moments before as he retrieved his wallet.

Delphine's refusal of his offer had been as much planned as expected, but Darien couldn't help the twinge of disappointment it invoked.

[brokecollege]

While Darien appeared to be a little disappointed with Delphine's decision, he did not voice this disappointment. Admittedly, she was a little disappointed as well. It had been years since Delphine had been on anything relatively close to a date, and the moment someone offers to take her out for an evening she declines it in favor of work. But, that was life. Maybe, in the future when things were more stable, she would be able to accept an offer like that.

Darien agreed with Delphine that business comes first before he changed the conversation to the flower that she had carefully wrapped for him. "I'm glad that you like it." Delphine hummed as the older male retrieved his wallet from one of his pockets. She waited patiently for him to hand her his payment--which was, of course, another large bill--and when he did, she turned and typed it into the register.

She wondered why Darien always paid her in large bills, and why he always insisted that she keep whatever change was left. Maybe it was because he couldn't be bothered to handle all of the change, or because leaving behind a large bill really had no impact on his wallet. Well, she mused, it had to be one or the other. "And your change today will be $46.50." the redhead informed as the register popped open. She set the fifty dollar bill beneath the register and retrieved two twenties--her only twenties, actually.

She grabbed the six dollars and fifty cents before offering it to Darien, along with his paper receipt. "You have a good rest of your day, Darien." she smiled.

[Damonique]

Darien handed over the fifty-dollar bill easily, one of several he now carried nearly exclusively for her. In his line of work, he had little need for cash, or at least such small amounts as could fit in a regular wallet. Briefcases and duffel bags were occasionally necessary, though.

He had settled on the fifty as the best amount to give in trade for his rose. Enough to allude to his wealth without flaunting it or making the flower girl uncomfortable. Delphine was quite humble, money troubles or no. On his second visit he had offered a hundred and she had flushed with embarrassment quite adorably, cheeks almost reaching the color of her hair as she stammered out her thanks, while on his last visit he only had a twenty on hand. While it didn't show on her face, many years of experience reading body language told him Delphine seemed mildly disappointed...or simply desperate.

But then, like now, she still carefully counted out his change and offered it back freely, patiently waiting for him to push it back across the counter, gently brushing her hand with his own as he did, each and every time, and picked up his flower. This was another part of their little routine.

"Enjoy the rest of your day as well, Delphine. With or without me, I still say you should step out of the shop for a bit when you find the time..." He started in answer to her parting words, and threw open the door, and stood for a few moments in the doorway to allow the warm breeze, crisp salt air off the bay, and birdsong from outside to rush past him into the shop.

"...after all, too many lives are wasted on not living." He finished, half-turning to offer her a last glimpse of that rare smile. In that moment, Darien looked nearly a god, his oiled black mane flaring out in the wind, amber-toned skin turned to gold on the sunlight.

And with that simple but truthful piece of advice, he was gone and the door fell shut behind him, headed for the car. Grigori was quick the catch up, easily reaching his bosses door first to open it before and shut it behind him, only then returning to the driver's seat.

"You seem happy. Should I be concerned?" The huge man asked in his usual deadpan, and Darien only beamed wider at that, the smile now more unhinged than mirthful.

"Maybe. Just drive, Grigori. You know the place." He answered, and the bald German just sighed and put the Mercades into gear.

[brokecollege]

-approximately a few weeks later

Like every day for the last four and a half years, Delphine woke early that morning to tend to her mother. She gave the woman a bath, made her some breakfast, and then seated her in her favorite armchair. She gave her a few books and things to keep her busy before promising to return during her lunch break. And then, she was off and heading to the shop. It was only when she reached the shop that her normal routine stopped.

Her shop, her beautiful little shop, had been broken into. The front window of the shop was shattered, with the flowers that had been on display now tossed to the ground and stomped on. But that was not the worst of it, Delphine could tell. She unlocked the shop's door and stepped inside, careful to avoid the clutter of glass on the ground. She looked around the shop, her frown only deepening at the sight.

Whatever flowers and plants that she had put out the night before were gone now, either that or the thieves that had broken into the shop had thrown them to the ground or at the walls. When she reached the counter, she found the register had been popped open and her money stolen. When she glanced into the backroom, she found even more of a mess waiting for her. She sighed, her bag dropping to the ground behind the counter.

They couldn't just take her money and leave, could they? They had to destroy everything that she had built up. She turned away from the backroom to look at the mess before her; suddenly, she let out a cry of frustration. What was she supposed to do now?! She couldn't replace everything they had broken because, as much as she wanted to do that, she couldn't afford it! For God's sake, she still owed the vendors for the last batch of flowers they sent her, how was she supposed to ask for a replacement?

The young redhead grabbed a broom and dragged it to the shattered glass on the ground. Was this it, then? Was it time for Delphine to give up, to declare bankruptcy and sell the shop? She released a shaky breath of air at the thought. But this shop meant the world to her, to her family. She had spent so much of her life in this shop and surrounded by these flowers. To sell it would be... devastating. Delphine wiped the tears from her eyes and sniffled. But, what else could she do?

[Damonique]

Darien sat alone under a willow tree that crowned a gentle slope in a new part of an old graveyard. The air smelled of freshly cut grass, and wherever he turned, he was greeted by yet another silent row of headstones. They neither perturbed nor interested him, he had eyes only for the low, unassuming marble slab beside him.

His man Grigori was nearby, of course, his tacit protector never far away, but had used his uncanny ability to hide in plain sight to give Darien at least the illusion of privacy and keep away passers-by with hard-eyed glares. That was good, because anyone who saw him now would think he had either gone mad or was simply pathetic. Either way, they wouldn't be wrong. He was talking to a grave.

That in itself wasn't unusual, the bereft were always seeking solace from the departed, pouring their hearts out to a loved one that could neither hear nor judge them...but this was different. Darien spoke, and paused, as if awaiting any answer besides the rustling of leaves above his head, and then spoke again, carrying on a conversation with a person who simply wasn't there.

"I visited Louise's Garden again, saw Delphine...and got this for you..." He stated softly, and leaned over to place the fresh rose beside the three wilting ones already laying before the stone.

Silence

"I know, the flowers are just an excuse to go see her, now. You don't need them, you already have a garden full to bursting, where you are...but I can't help myself. She's...sweet, determined, honest...like you were. It must have been Ms. Louise's influence, you always said she saved you..." He continued, rambling some, and a flash of guilt swept across his features as he realized what he was rambling about.

Silence

"I know, red hair, green eyes, same passion, same job at the same place...but it's more than just the surface details. You always told me to believe in fate. And I went looking for you, or whatever was left of you, and found her instead. That place of all places, on that day, of all days. It has to mean something." The man continued, speaking quickly, frantically, trying to get the words out as quickly as the manic thoughts came. His expression was almost pleading, tears creasing the corners of his grey-blue eyes. And the he waited, for a long time, expression changing too quick to read at whatever he was hearing.

Silence

"I know, it should be you. It was always supposed to be you....but I made mistakes, and now your there but I'm still here. I'm know I always said I'd follow you anywhere, but I just couldn't do it...and if I can't die, I need to live. And now fate's given me a second chance to...given me Delphine. I know what I have to do, now...I won't make the same mistakes twice." Darien answered, eyes darkening and his voice growing firm with resolve. He cocked his head, listening, tears flowing freely as he did.

Silence

"Thank you...." He whispered, standing slowly wiping away a tear, and cracking a thin smile at whatever it was he heard next. "Of course I'll be back. I won't...I can't forget you, Delilah." He said in parting, and headed back down the hill to where Grigori waited, ramrod-straight, saying nothing and wearing a carefully neutral expression. It wasn't his place to ask, or judge.

--------Weeks Later

It was a day like any other, Darien thought as he lounged in the back of the Mercedes as it followed the now-familiar route. In fact, it was shaping up to be a good day, as it usually was when he found opportunity to visit Delphine. Not always, of course. Sometimes his visits were short and tense, others long but nearly wordless as he simply stood for a while, watching her go about her business, and still others were shadowed by a palpable sadness in him that not even the redheads radiant personality could penetrate.

But he always got his rose and left his change, and Delphine seemed unperturbed by the arrangement. In fact, he found that very little seemed to even phase her. The little inconsistencies about him from day to day that most would find either suspicious or at least, pique curiosity she seemed to dismiss as Darien simply being himself. That too fueled the growing infatuation with the girl he secretly harbored, if only all his interactions could be so straightforward and without pretense.

Grigori was even whistling a tune as he drove, his smile showing a half-dozen steel replacements for missing teeth. These leisurely drives to the flower-shop and the graveyard, while somewhat unsettling owing to the latter, was some of the easiest money the man had ever made, a welcome respite from the stresses and dangers that defined their usual day-to-day. And the breaks seemed good for the boss, as well, seeming to lighten his mood and ameliorate some of his more distressing eccentricities, allowing the whole outfit to breathe a bit easier. The calm was palpable...but as is always said, the calm comes before the storm.

The storm arrived the moment they turned onto the run-down street along which Louise's Garden was nestled. While it took Darien a moment longer to process, Grigori knew something was off and stopped whistling immediately, slowing the car and alternating hands on the wheel to ensure that both of the handguns under his jacket were locked and loaded, safeties off, and loose in their holsters. They always were, but he checked anyway. The first peculiarity was that people were milling about in the usually-empty street, looking at something. A few were shaking their heads, while one was taking a picture with their phone. None seemed too concerned, but that meant little. In this part of town, bad things happened every day and they were just glad it wasn't them this time.

As the storefront finally came into view, Darien's initial fears were confirmed. The usually vibrant front windows were a ruin of shattered glass and twisted, broken pottery. Each time the wind picked up, it took dozens of multicolored petals with it. Grigory looked back to raise an eyebrow at Darien, who didn't respond for a moment, simply opening and closing his mouth in disbelief, mouthing a single word. No.

"Do we stay or go, boss? Could be a trap just for you, word gets around. And either way, the cops'll come sniffing around soon enough." The big man inquired as the Mercades rolled to a stop, but knew the answer from the way Darien's features shifted before his eyes, eyes darkening, mouth becoming a grim line that could mean nearly anything. Anything but good,that is. With a sigh, the bodyguard reached for his door, but Darien was faster, bolting out the door and ignoring the onlookers as he ran for the ruined storefront.

No. Not this, not now, not again. Nononononono... Was the stream of his consciousness as he reached the broken door and forced his way in. There was a blossom of pain on his arm where a piece of glass nicked him, slicing easily through both his fine silk shirt and the skin beneath, his racing heart immediately staining the dark fabric with darker blood, but he paid no mind to any of it as he stepped forward into the ruined store, eyes roving wildly, fearing he would find the worst. Instead, he just found Delphine, deep green eyes red from crying and wide with confusion, but safe and sound, clutching onto a small broom as if there was anything that could be done with it to salvage the utter destruction that was the interior.

[brokecollege]

Delphine shakily swept up the mess of glass and flowers on the ground all the while her mind desperately searched for a solution. But no thought that she could produce solved her problems. She was ruined, and that was that. She paused mid-sweep to close her eyes and rub her forehead--how was she going to tell her mother about this? She couldn't even tell her about all of the payments that they were behind on, how was she going to tell the woman that their shop was ruined?

Suddenly, a jingle interrupted Delphine's thoughts. She opened her eyes and turned towards the door, expecting to see a fellow shop owner or, even, a cop. But, instead, she saw Darien. And he, rather surprisingly, looked just as jilted as she did. "Oh. Mr. Darien." Delphine set aside the broom and quickly wiped the tears from her eyes. "You've uhm.. you've caught me at a bad time, I'm afraid," she admitted with a shaky laugh.

The worst time, actually. She scratched the back of her neck as she looked around at her ruined store. Then, she looked at Darien. "I'm sorry, but... I won't be able to provide you with a rose today. All my flowers have been... well..." she trailed off, her puffy eyes trailing down Darien's form until they landed on his arm. The arm of his silk shirt was torn, and though the fabric itself was a dark color, it was particularly dark in one place.

She frowned. "Your arm," she stated softly. He must have hurt it somehow when coming into the store--no doubt because of the broken glass that was everywhere. She held out her hand, gesturing for the older man to stay standing where he was. "Hold on, I should have a first aid kit somewhere around here." That is, if those blasted thieves didn't steal it first. Delphine turned and tip-toed away from the mess she was cleaning up before she disappeared into the even messier backroom.

When she emerged, she carried a red box in her arms. She tip-toed back over to Darien. "I'm surprised," she admitted as she opened the box. "You don't seem like the kind of person who would let himself get hurt so easily." she grabbed from the box a disinfectant wipe and a bandage before she placed it down by her feet. Then, she gestured for the older male to roll up his shirt. She would have done it herself, of course, but she figured that was pushing it.

[Damonique]

Darien didn't know how to respond to Delphine's meek words at his sudden appearance, as she tried to put on a brave face despite the fresh tears still threatening to spill from her eyes, as if the senseless destruction of her life's work, her families legacy, was no more than a minor setback. The girl even managed a weak laugh as she explained that she wouldn't be able to provide him with his rose today, as if that weren't obvious enough, her bright nature shining through despite everything.

Darien, though, lacked her better nature. His look of panic and concern melted away as he took in the enormity of the damage done to the small flower shop, his lips creasing into a scowl of utter contempt. It was an expression Delphine had never seen him wear before, and combined with the manic glint of a madman in his eyes, it was most unsettling. It wasn't just Delphine's sorrow that enraged him so, it was where the damage had been done as well. This place was a well of memories, and the proud labor of his own love. Delilah had loved this shop, and losing it was like losing her all over again. And over what? A bit of money and passing amusement for a band of drunken punks? It would not stand. Under his breath, he let loose a flurry of crisp Italian epithets, none of them polite.

Grigori, for the first time ever, actually entered the shop, cracking glass under his heavy combat boots as he carefully avoiding the broken window Darien had ignored in his haste. The bodyguard gave Delphine only the most cursory of glances to see that she was unhurt before his attention turned wholly to his employer, noticing first the welling of blood on his arm, then the crazed expression he wore. That look was dangerous, and that was coming from a hardened killer. There would be blood over this....the only question was whose blood, and how much of it.

But before he could say something that couldn't be unsaid, Delphine saved him with words of genuine concern at the sight of his bloodied arm. His storm-cloud eyes softened somewhat at the sound, scowl becoming an unreadable line. Despite her life being in shambles, Delphine cared more about a rose she couldn't sell him and a scratch on his arm than the landlord, creditors, and insurance agents that would come banging on her door. Truly, she was pure, and perfect, and vulnerable. When she was gone into the back of the shop to find the first aide kit, Darien turned to Grigori.

"Call Vince, I want a full report. Delotta owns this part of town, I'll want to speak with him. Get Vidal here, tell him to bring his briefcase. And the commissioner, slow down the police. Just ask about what happened on Pier 7, he'll understand." Darien ordered in short, clipped sentences, and Grigori raised a confused eyebrow. It was a lot of work on short notice over a flower shop in another part of town. The backlash would be considerable. But he held his tongue. Besides it not being his place to ask questions, even the no-nonsense bodyguard knew this was about more than just about the shop. It had been Darien's fleeting moments of peace that had been attacked, and his rare smiles were worth more than reputation. And there was also the girl to consider. Not Delphine, the first one. The one who's name he wasn't allowed to speak. So the big man stepped outside, out of earshot from the crowd but close enough to keep an eye on things, and started making calls.

Darien was sitting on the only intact seat he could find in the room, an small stepladder for reaching high shelves, arms crossed over his knees and seemingly lost in thought. While the smells of the store, flowers, herbs, and potting soil were still present, they were no longer the familiar, comforting perfume they had been just days before. Their spell had been broken...but the same could not be said of Delphine's spell, as the redhead carefully made her way over to him and knelt down to examine his arm, concern clear in her sea-green eyes. The tears were gone now, replaced with a look of genuine concern, caring only about this exact moment. He almost lost himself in those eyes that he almost missed her gesturing for him to roll up his sleeve.

With a shrug at her words, Darien reached up with his intact left and easily tore the sleeve from the two-hundred dollar shirt to reveal his right arm to the shoulder where he had been cut on the glass. It was a shallow cut, barely reaching the muscle, but long and ugly. It would leave a scar no matter what she did, not that it was his first, nor would it be his last.

"I've had worse, I'll live. If Grigori thought it was serious he'd already have me on the way to a hospital. You don't have to worry about me...you should worry about what you're going to do, Delphine." The words were blunt, but not unkind.

[brokecollege]

Darien shrugged at Delphine's gesture before he, with his free hand, reached up and tore the sleeve from his shirt. Well--there went any attempt of salvaging his fancy shirt. Though, it did not look like Darien cared about that. At the moment, he did not look like he cared about anything. He just looked angry. His eyes were dark and gloomy, and his stature was tense with rage. He looked like how Delphine thought she should feel.

Delphine tore her gaze from his face and carefully dabbed the shallow cut with the disinfectant wipe. He's had worse, he said. If it was something to worry about, then his friend would have dragged him off to the hospital.

"I'm sure you have." Delphine hummed as she set the now bloodied disinfectant wipe on the ground. She grabbed the bandage and unraveled it before carefully wrapping it around his arm. "But that doesn't mean I'll let you suffer on my watch." when the bandage was wrapped to her satisfaction, she clipped it in place with a pin. "There," she breathed. She grabbed the first aid box and the wrappings that she had used before standing upright.

Though, what he said next had her coming to a pause. Delphine bit the inside of her cheek. Why should she worry, when there was only one thing she could do? "What am I going to do?" she repeated as she pulled into the first aid box into her chest. She was going to give up. There was a quiet moment of silence before Delphine answered her own question. "I'm going to declare bankruptcy, and sell the shop." Wow. Saying that outloud felt so.. surreal. And, if it was even possible, even more sad.

She looked down to the ground and absentmindedly kicked a piece of glass around. "Honestly, the shop was on its last leg long before today. It would have all come crashing down sooner or later. This break-in just... sped things up, I guess." she kicked the piece of glass away from them and further into the shop before she sighed and turned around. "But everything happens for a reason, right? Maybe me shutting down Louise's Garden will eventually lead to me opening up a bigger, better shop in the future." she mused as she walked over to the nearby window.

Delphine glanced over at Darien, briefly studying his tense composure and his darkened eyes. "I'm sorry that you came down here for nothing. And I'm sorry that you got hurt." she apologized. "If I ever open up another flower shop, then I promise I'll give you a discount on all the thorned roses I sell."

[Damonique]

The pain that came with the familiar dab of the disinfectant on his skin brought a wince to his face that was the beginning of a slight change, as he watched Delphine tenderly clean and bandage the jagged slice along his arm, grim scowl softening at her kind words, glare lightening into wide-eyed surprise. It was so very familiar, and their closeness allowed him to breathe deep of her scent, which was the same as ever despite the ruination around them.

It was a soft aroma, the lightest bitter tang of sweat from the flurry of recent activity buried under the myriad floral scents that always clung to her. Besides that, there was the earthy musk of fertile potting soil that clung to her hands, and from her hair, the smell of her shampoo....also floral. Lavender, perhaps. And cutting through it all like a knife was another flower, no more recent than any of the others, but that he was uniquely aware of. Delilah. It brought a smile to his lips, but also a tear unbidden to the corner of his eye.

His reverie was short lived, though, as the girl finally got around to answering his pointed question. What was she going to do? Give up, apparently. From the heartbreak in her tone, it was clear how difficult those few simple words had been to say, but there was a resolve there that told him it was all she knew to do. All she thought was possible, at this point. The dark-haired mans smile vanished in an instant, and a number of possible replacements for it flickered across his vision as his mind whirled through options of what to say, what to do.

Anything to bring back her smile. That was the first, immediate part.....but there was more to come. Gears clicked, selfish desires and solemn duty coalescing into a plan not far from the one that had directed his actions from the first moment he had seen Delphine walk out from the back room and mistook her for someone else, and galvanized by the approval he had pleaded for under the willow atop the hill. In truth, his every visit had been a near-unconscious but calculated gesture as they went about their usual ritual, the kind words, shared jokes, subtle flirtations, and also the rose, the touch of her hand, and the money as well. All of it.

It had always been inevitable, and so there had been no reason to rush things along, when her every smile bringing him contentment he had nearly forgotten. But now there was no time to waste now. The events of the day had reminded him of how fleeting and fragile lives could be. While she seemed not to realize it, Delphine had gotten lucky, so very lucky. On a street like this, monsters on two legs had no reason to act at night. They could have broken in any time, and found the petite, vulnerable Delphine so much more enticing than a half-empty cash register. Rather than smash windows and ruin flowers, they could have ruined her. His Delphine. His new Delilah.

With a sudden confidence, Darien stood to his full height, dwarfing the young redhead who looked up at him, eyes brimming with tears waiting to be shed as she prepared herself for a new, worse life. Somehow, the thought of asking Darien for help never crossed her mind, as she offered him a discount on roses at a new store they both knew she would never posses the means to open on her own. His cynical mind wondered if it might be a ploy, not asking for salvation because she knew it would be offered freely, but he knew that simply wasn't her. Never once had she asked him for charity, and when it was offered she put on a brave face and pretended she would be fine on her own, so cheerful and confident that one could almost think she believed it.

He took a step towards her, and then another, and quite uninvited if not unwelcome, folded his arms about her slim shoulders in a strong embrace. It was gentle and comforting, at first, but as she relaxed into him it became almost....possessive. After holding her for a few moments, he leaned in, bringing his lips to rest gently beside the curve of her ear, took a deep breath of her lavender perfume, and whispered.

"What would you say, Delphine, if I told you there was another way?"

[brokecollege]

Delphine would never open another shop. She knew that it was impossible, deep down in her soul. But, believing that she could do such a thing was the only thing that was keeping her from bursting into tears in front of Darien. So, at least until Darien left the store, she would fake her belief that such a thing was possible. She looked down at the first aid kit that she held tightly in her arms before she leaned down and placed it on the edge of the broken store window.

When she stood back up, her attention turned to Darien, who, after a quiet moment, had risen from his seat on the step ladder. Delphine expected for him to apologize for her misfortune, wish her luck in her future endeavors, and then leave. What she had not expected for him to do was walk over to her and then embrace her in a gentle hug. It was an unexpected surprise, but... also so very needed. The redhead relaxed into his strong embrace, her eyes closing as she released a shaky breath.

He was warm. And he smelt good--though, to be fair, he always smelt good when he came into her store. Like expensive cologne, mixed with aftershave and hard alcohol. She relished in the comforting feeling of his arms for as long as she could before she was snapped back into reality by the sound of his voice. Another way? She pulled back ever so slightly to look at Darien with curious, furrowed brows.

What was he talking about? There was no other way. Delphine was in too much debt to be able to save the shop--although, now that she realized it, he probably was not aware of that. She smiled, "There is no other way. If there was, then I would've done it long ago." she quietly informed. She reached a hand up, her fingertips just barely grazing against his jawline. They moved down slowly towards his chin before she pulled her hand back, "But you're a very sweet man for trying to cheer me up. Thank you."

[Damonique]

The embrace, for Darien, was like stepping into the sunlight for the first time after years spent in an unending twilight. The barest brush of her calloused, gardeners fingers against his soft, well-treated hands he received each time they met over the past month had been enough to justify the price he paid in both money and valuable time, but this was something else entirely.

When Delphine spoke, he drew back slightly but did not fully part from her, his arms sliding down to rest comfortably upon her narrow hips, even as her hands came to gently caress his jawline. As close as they were, the redhead could make out each and every feature of his creased face, including the pattern of off-white scarring that criss-crossed his cheek, neck, and jaw. The thin lines were old and well-treated, usually disappearing into the worry lines the etched his still-handsome face as the beginnings of middle age began to show. Truly, he had seen worse, if long ago.

Darien had to restrain himself from an incredulous chuckle as Delphine continued to deny that anything could be done to repair her situation, as if the answer to her every worry, present and future, was not standing so very close before her. He seemed amused when she told him he was sweet. Darien had been called many things in his life, mostly bad things, but sweet was not one he heard in years. Truly, she was still a mystery, equal parts proud and naive. A dangerous combination, the man knew. Instead he just smiled down at her confidently, invitingly, knowing he had the girl exactly where he wanted...no, needed her to be.

"Sweet girl, I am Darien Leone Vicente Fiore, and I can do anything, everything for you. You simply have to ask." He stated solemnly. The words were not new, but an echo from years long passed, when he had stood in a similar way before and very similar girl. His mistake then had been saying it nearly at the end, rather than at the very beginning. Like many others, that was a mistake he would not repeat.

[brokecollege]

Darien offered Delphine a confident smile before he informed the girl of who he was, and all that he could do. He was Darien Leone Vicente Fiore. Delphine paused--she recognized that name. Why was it that she recognized that name? Where had she--she paused when Darien added his willingness to help Delphine with whatever she needed. Her eyes softened. Was he willing to do that? To help her, and to help her shop? But why? The two barely knew each other! Hell, she hadn't even known his full name until today!

And, yet, if she asked him then he was willing to do anything for her. "I..." Delphine began, though she trailed off just moments later. If she asked him, then Darien could save her shop. He could make every payment that she was behind on disappear. But... how could she take advantage of his kindness like that? She pursed her lips together. She couldn't. If she was going to take something from Darien, then she had to give him something in return.

Or, at least, the promise of something in return. A promise which she would no doubt spend the rest of her life attempting to fill. "Can you save my shop? Please, Darien?" she finally whispered. "I'll do whatever you want me to do to pay you back. And I will pay you back, I don't care if I have to take ten other jobs to do so. I just.." she bit down on her tongue as she slowly pulled away from him. "I can't lose this shop. I promised them that I would take care of it. And if I lost it..."

If she lost it, then that would mean she failed both of her parents. Then that would mean all the hard work they had poured into this place was only in vain.

[Damonique]

The redhead paused for a moment of thought when Darien made use of his full name, the soft Italian accents making it all roll off a single word, and he bit the corner of his lip. That could have been a mistake, if she recognized who he was, what he was from the news, or more likely, the tabloids that were always printing his life with a salacious spin that barely resembled the truth. But there was no recognition there, as she let the second part of his declaration sink in.

Delphine held resolute for a moment, trying to retain her principles, find some excuse to reject his offer....and then folded under the pressures he knew had been wearing on her since long before they ever met. He knew well that every person had both a breaking point and a buying point, and the flower girl had finally reached both at once, the two one in the same. And she had realized it as well, pride and reservations giving way to a desperate pleading that a part of him found heartbreaking, but another, darker part found innately satisfying as Delphine's words tumbled forth, barely higher than a whisper.

Please, Darien...I'll do whatever you want me to do... There were more words than that, but that snippet was the one his mind fixated upon, understanding the implications. Delphine was too naive to realize all she agreed to, using no uncertain terms...if she had, she would never have let them past her lips. But he knew it didn't matter, either. Delphine O'Neill kept her word as her bond bond, she was like La Familia, in that way, if few others. If she said it, she meant it. She tried to pull back, but Darien's strong hands put a stop to that, slipping from her hips to encircle her fragile wrists as if it were nothing, keeping her transfixed in place, looking up at him, and he down at her with a manic gleam in his eyes. He couldn't let her go yet, not until he was sure.

"You mean that, don't you? Do you really trust me that much, or are you just too desperate to care?" He wondered out loud, knowing she didn't even know him well enough to truly trust him. Oh, their acquaintance gave her a glimpse of the man Darien Fiore tried to be, used to be, once upon a time. Straightforward, honest, and charitable, with myriad passions and an artistic soul. But that was rarely the man he was allowed to be in the life he'd inherited rather than ever wanted, as she would learn before long. Darien shook his head, as to say the question did not require an answer. Either would be disappointing. If Delphine trusted him so utterly, she was a fool, and if she would make the same offer to any man with means in this dire time, she was something else.

"Prove it. Swear it, in whatever words you like, by a god or a grave or simply to yourself. Tell me what you want, Delphine, and what you have to offer. I have to hear you say it." He snapped, suddenly commanding, as this was no time for any falseness from either of them. Carefully he looked the slim redhead up and down where she stood before him. His hands moved from her wrists to clasp her own, tenderly....again echoing a moment long since passed as he stared into her vibrant green eyes.

[brokecollege]

Although Delphine had pulled away some, Darien managed to prevent the distance between them from growing too big. With his hands grasping onto her wrists, Darien questioned her sincerity. Did she mean it? The redhead quickly nodded her head--of course, Delphine meant it! If Darien was genuinely willing to save her shop from being taken or sold, then she was willing to do anything he asked of her. When he went a step further, however, she was brought to a pause.

Did she trust him, or was she just that desperate? Even she didn't know the answer to that. Perhaps, it was a little bit of both. But, before she could tell him that the older male shook his head. He didn't want to hear the answer, and so Delphine did not give it to him. She remained quiet until his next question--or, more accurately, his next demand. He wanted Delphine to swear her sincerity. He wanted her to swear her sincerity on whatever she saw fit, whether it be a god or a grave.

Well, Delphine didn't have much faith in God these days so she couldn't swear on that. And swearing upon one's grave did not feel right in the least. With these brief thoughts in mind, Delphine made her decision. She pulled her wrist from the older male's grasp and, with her head held high, lifted her hand to her chest to create an "X" over her heart. "I swear. I cross my heart on it," she whispered. It was such a silly, childish sight--to see a grown, adult woman swearing as a child would.

But the swear was genuine--as Delilah told her all swears should be. Keep every promise you make and only make promises you can keep, she had once told her. The young woman continued as Darien's grasp on her wrists slowly moved to her hands. "I have to be honest. I don't have much to offer you in return. But.. I am a hardworker. And I am honest, and I will not let my debt towards you go unpaid for long. If you save my shop, I'll do whatever it takes to pay you back. Whether it be working for you for the rest of my life, or paying you back with every cent I get. I swear on it, Darien."

[Damonique]

"I swear. I cross my heart on it..." Delphine said, and did just that, tracing a finger down and them to the side in the air before her left breast, above her heart. It wasn't quite what the man had had in mind, though it still seemed somehow fitting. Darien had been both witness, and recipient to many oaths through his career, and each and every one was different, unique to the one who made it.

Some men did it in the old way, 'kissing the ring' as one saw in the movies. Others, with a flair for theatrics and no strangers to pain, would cut their palm and write their promise in blood. Others would simply swear by their crosses(or cross tattoos, in the case of the Armenians), or the graves of their fathers, mothers, or children. They all knew they had to mean it, it was well known in such circles that breaking a promise to a Fiore was tantamount to suicide, and Darien was no exception to that rule...except perhaps in this singular instance, regarding Delphine. But if it came to that, there would still have to be some...unpleasantness, to enforce respect.

And that simple, genuine, somewhat childish gesture was very much representative of Delphine, but Darien meant no insult to her by thinking that. Ignorance was ofttimes bliss, and when much of the world was so ugly, it could be better not to be aware of it. As she went on to try at the second part of his question, outlining what she had to offer up in return for his offer to save her, he pursed his lips, looking deep in thought...it wasn't much, but then again, she hadn't seem to even realize the full implications of what he was asking for.

Wording was important, and 'whatever you want me to do' were the words she had used before, so that was what he would be getting from her eventually, even if it took some time for Delphine to...adjust, as it were. After a month of subtle courting, a bit longer wouldn't be the death of him. Just because Darien could impulsive, it didn't mean he was impatient....yet. Even with that in mind though, he couldn't stop the smile slowly spreading across his features. It was not the easy smile he had worn on previous visits, or the one he had been wearing after he found her here today, equal parts concerned and relieved.....but something else entirely. It was the cheshire smile of a predator sizing up it's next meal, a cat that's caught a mouse. And it was moving closer to her with every breath, until he was looking down into those deep green eyes from scant inches away...and finally made a vow of his own.

"And I swear on my honor, my name, my legacy that I'll save your shop. But won't just stop there. I'll give you a new life. Your debts will be repaid in full, arrangements will be made for your mother to receive the best of care...and provide you with all of the comfort and security within my, quite considerable, means. And you don't have to pay me back, Delphine, for any of it. It isn't your money I want...." He stated in a tone full of confidence, but laced with subtle insinuations and the sort of trick wording a lawyer would write into any contract, only noticeable if one were looking for it carefully. Wording was important, after all.

"...all I want in return is for you to be mine. Entirely." He finished in something barely more than a whisper, emphasizing particular words in a way that made it crystal clear exactly what he meant by them. And before Delphine could wrap her head around the implications of that, ruby lips parting, surely to ask a question....he sealed them with own. It was a soft kiss, gentle...almost chaste. But for the strong grip his left hand held her wrist in keeping her from pulling away, and the way his arm encircled her narrow waist to pull her even closer to him, seeing no reason not to run his hand from the top of her skirt down to the hem, gently caressing a soft thigh through the thin material.

[brokecollege]

Darien smiled upon hearing Delphine's swear--though, the smile that curled on his lips looked much different than any smile she had seen on him before. After a moment of thought and consideration, Darien bent his head down some to give the redhead a swear of his own--and a much more sophisticated one, at that. He swore upon everything he was--his name, his legacy, and his honor--to save Delphine's shop. And Delphine was so incredibly relieved to hear it.

This store was Delphine's heart and soul. Losing it would have meant losing a part of herself. Darien, though, didn't stop there. He didn't plan on just saving Delphine's shop. He also planned on paying off all of Delphine's debts, as well as providing her mother with the best medical care he could. Essentially, he was giving Delphine a new life. And, most surprisingly of all, he did not want Delphine to pay him back for it. At least, not with money.

No, he wanted something else. Or, more specifically, someone else. In his own words, he wanted Delphine to be entirely his. Delphine's eyes widened in surprise, with her jaw practically falling to the floor. This was so much to take in. Darien was willing to give Delphine a fresh start at life, and all he wanted was... her? But, why? What could Delphine as a person offer him that he saw as more valuable than money?

She wanted to ask that--and a load of other questions--but the words couldn't seem form on her tongue. Then, just as the shock from his words began to settle, Delphine was given another surprising shock. His lips. His lips were surprisingly soft, with their taste reminding her of coffee. What a surprise--she had almost expected them to taste of alcohol (she always thought of him as the kind of man to have an "early" drink at work). Without even realizing it, Delphine began to relax in his tight embrace.

And, before she knew it, she was even kissing him back--if ever so slightly. But how could she not? Darien was an attractive, charming man. Even if his lips and his declaration had caught her by complete and utter surprise, she would have to be blind and deaf not to kiss him back even just a little bit. After a few moments--or, perhaps it was a minute?--of their lips gently caressing each other, Delphine managed to snap back into reality and pull back slightly.

She sucked in a breath, her eyes fluttering as she tried to regain her thoughts and her composure. "I.." she breathed, "I.. I don't know what to say. I'm.. I.." she trailed off before clearing her throat. Well, she couldn't say no, as Delphine had just sworn to Darien that she would do whatever it was that he wanted her to do. And she couldn't break that. "I.. I.. I accept." she finally whispered. "I accept, Darien. If you save my shop, then.. I'll be yours." Oh, God, what did she just get herself into?

[Damonique]

The kiss was......indescribable. The moment their lips touched, it was like a strike of lightning running through his body, and Darien was glad that he was embracing her so tightly as his knees literally became weak. That first hug, and now this kiss, was the first truly affectionate physical contact he had had with another person in over two years, and it showed. Despite his usual composure, the kiss started out careful and clumsy, akin to the fumbling of a teenage virgin rather than a grown adult fifteen years her senior.

Delphine, though, didn't seem to mind in the slightest. During the moment of sudden surprise that seemed to drag on for an eternity, Darien was worried, fearing rejection on the very cusp of his triumph...that despite all he had offered, all she had said, the girl would decide to change her mind. Perhaps even slap him, call him a pig or a monster or worse, and demand he keep his money, leave and never come back. But his fear never came to pass, as the tension faded and she seemed to almost melt against him, lips moving against his own and parting slightly to allow him a better taste.

Her lips were soft, and clean, tasting vaguely of tea and honey, a splash of lemon. His synesthesia turned each flavor into a color to his eyes, and he closed them to observe the way cream and orange and yellow spiraled together to evoke the taste. It was exquisite. There were other sensations as well....the smell of Delphine's shampoo on her hair, and the barest hint of an understated perfume that mingled with the natural scent of myriad flowers that clung to her always, just as it had to Delilah.

Darien was aware, in the part of his mind that dealt in logic, that it wasn't the same, that the one redhead was not the other. But in that moment, eyes closed, colors swirling, feeling the steady rise and fall of her chest, the beating of her heart besides the frantic drumline of his own, it was like reliving a memory, a first kiss much like this one, full of both passion and trepidation, clumsiness and kindness. It all came rushing back, and time ceased to exist.

It was only when Delphine drew away from him, trying to catch her breath, that the spell was finally broken and Darien's light blue eyes opened. A flicker of a frown crossed his face that she would be allowed to think came at the the kiss ending too soon for his liking, but he knew was something else. He was ashamed but unable to help the flash of disappointment he felt when his eyes opened and he saw Delphine there instead of Delilah. He knew she was attractive, warm, inviting, and alive....but she was also too short and too pale, her freckles didn't follow the right pattern and her hair was the wrong shade. The resemblance had always been there, but was never as close as his imagination sometimes made it out to be.

"I.. I.. I accept." Those halting, nervous words, said in barely more than a whisper, rescued him from the unbidden thoughts that threatened to consume him entirely. And then again, slightly louder and more even. "I accept, Darien." And then, finally, "I'll be yours." With a finality that said she'd come to terms with the road she had agreed to walk, her mind catching up with the answer already given by her words and body. Darien smiled, and was about to say something when he was distracted by a knock at the door. It was Grigori, and standing beside him was a rake-thin, balding man wearing a fine suit and expensive gold-framed glasses, carrying a heavy briefcase in one hand and a clipboard in the other. It was Vidal, Darien's Consigliere, his advisor as he had been for Darien's father and even his grandfather before him. Of course, the man was a also a lawyer.

[brokecollege]

Delphine remained practically clinging to Darien until, suddenly, there was a knock on the shop's door. She pulled away from him at the speed of light, with wide eyes and rosy cheeks. Her wide eyes briefly examined Darien's friend, before shifting to the bald and elderly man who stood beside him. Her cheeks darkened--oh, no. How much did they hear? No, how much did they see? Just the thought of them having seen or heard something had Delphine's already dark cheeks deepening in their shade.

Delphine adjusted her hair and her apron before she walked over to the shop's door and opened it, gesturing for the two men to come inside. "Please, come in." she urged with a smile. She grabbed the nearby ladder that Darien had used and used it to keep the front door propped open for them. Then, she stepped back and clasped her hands together in front of her. "I apologize for the mess. I've had a rather..." she trailed off to glance in Darien's direction, "...eventful morning."

Eventful couldn't even begin to describe the kind of morning she's had. It was normal, and then sad, and then angry, and then confused, and then even more confused, and then surprised and now... thoroughly embarrassed. She quickly gestured towards the mess of flowers and broken pots behind her. "And if you came for a bouquet, I'm afraid I can't provide you with one today," she added. Though, now that she looked the man over, she doubted that was what he was there for.

He was dressed much like Darien and Darien's other friend, with fancy suits and ties. He carried with him a large briefcase in one hand, and in the other, he carried a wooden clipboard. She wondered if he was another one of Darien's friends. And if he was, then why was he at the shop?

[Damonique]

Darien considered trying to put a end to Delphine's embarrassment at his associates arrival, but decided it would be better to just let it play out, handle on thing at a time. There would be a lot of changes and revelations in her life over the next few weeks, and handling them as they came up naturally seemed the safest way to handle them.

Both men took it in stride, though. Grigori was, as always, a statue...if a statue wearing what could almost be read as a grin under the his practiced mask. Vidal, for his part, seemed singularly uninterested in anything the redhead had to say about herself or her shop. Instead, the older man passed his briefcase over to the bodyguard and took her words as an invitation to begin examining the store itself, the damage to it, and making notes on his clipboard with short precise strokes of a pen.

Delphine seemed put quite out of sorts by this, still standing straight and waiting for someone to cut the tension, let her know what was going on. And that would have to be Darien, the only link between her and the rest. Rather than disturbing his Consigliari yet, he decided to make the first and most pressing introduction.

"Delphine, you've seen this man with me before, but I don't believe you've ever spoken. He's Grigori Vaughn, part-time driver, full-time bodyguard, and ofttimes confidant. I trust very few men as much." He introduced, and gestured for the big man forward. The stern facade of grim-faced competence he wore seemed to melt as soon as he was given was he supposed counted as 'permission', to drop the act, lips peeling back into a wide smile that proudly displayed the steel-studded smile. The replacement teeth, accompanied by the mans massive musculature, shaved head, a dented, many-times-broken nose usually made for a threatening visage, but when he smiled, it was simple, genuine, and nearly comical when taken with the rest.

"Please t'meet you, little lady. Woulda' introduced myself earlier, but I was always on the clock, see. Gotta keep up appearances. Coulda' done better at it, turns out. Maybe if I flashed my pieces a few times, punks would have thought twice." The man blurted out in heavily-accented English, offering his hand a boisterous shake with his massive paw that completely engulfed it, gesturing around at the damage surrounding them in reference to his last statement.

[brokecollege]

Even though she had spoken to him, the elderly man paid Delphine no mind. He handed off his bulky briefcase to the younger man beside him and then, without a word, began to wander Delphine's shop with his clipboard in hand. Delphine stared after him in confusion, before turning that same confused face towards Darien. What is going on, her face seemed to ask. But, Darien did not answer. Instead, he turned towards his friend and introduced him.

He was Grigori Vaughn--friend, confidant, driver, and body-guard. Delphine's lips parted slightly in surprise. Darien needed bodyguards? But, why? Wasn't he just an extremely wealthy businessman? Well, she supposed him being "extremely wealthy" could have had something to do with him needing a bodyguard. Once he was formally introduced by Darien, the stone face that Delphine had always seen Grigori with vanished, and its place was a wide and almost goofy looking smile.

That smile, paired with his heavy German accent, made Delphine smile. She had only seen Grigori once or twice before, but each time that she saw him, he always held such a serious expression. She would have never thought that he was capable of holding such a silly smile or an interesting accent. "Hello, Grigori. It's lovely to meet you. My name is Delphine." she introduced herself with a smile and a slight bow of her head.

"And, please, don't blame yourself. This has happened plenty of times before. Just... never to this extent." Usually, it was a broken lock and a few hundred bucks missing from the register or the safe, but now... well, now her beloved shop was destroyed. After the introductions between Delphine and Grigori passed, Delphine turned to Darien. "And... who is he? Another friend of yours?" she whispered as she gestured towards the nearby elderly man.

[Damonique]

(Forgot to make it clear, Grigori's accent is actually German.)

Grigori seemed to take a shine to the flower girl immediately, as Darien knew he would. It was hard not to take a liking to Delphine, she was kind and personable, and completely nonthreatening, and the bodyguard smiled broadly when she dismissed his regrets at not having been able to done more to ward off the robbers. Darien couldn't help but feel some shame, knowing that if he had, they wouldn't have found themselves in this position today.

But that was behind them now, and Delphine and all she cared about would be safe, from everyone and everything. He would make sure of it, and that would nearly be worth the damage to the shop...but that if they put in the work necessary to put it back the way it was, any traces of Delilah would be gone as well. Perhaps that, too, was for the best, though, he mused, until he caught Delphine asking about Vidal, who was now examining the back room where the safe had been busted open and making still more notes on his clipboard.

"Ah, Delpine.....this is Gian Vidal, a close family friend and an attorney of the highest caliber. He'll be the one taking care of financial side of our...arrangement. You just have to give him the information he needs, sign what he wants you to sign, and try to avoid being bored out of your mind..." Darien explained hastily, leaving out many relevant details but telling her enough to answer her question. Usually something like this would be handled by some other associate at Gian's firm, or one of his legitimate corporate lawyers, but given circumstances of the break-in and the location of the shop, it was better to handle things with an expert touch.

The older man seemed finally satisfied with his notes, tucked his pen behind his ear, and approached them, still seeming to almost pointedly ignore Delphine whenever possible. And then a conversation started, one which she had no way of following the details of, as it was conducted entirely in rapis bursts of italian, punctuated by both men making exaggerated hand movements that suggested it was more argument than discussion, and only ended when Darien finally said something in a firm, authoritative voice that brooked no further disagreement. Finally, with what looked like a sigh of exasperation, the bespectacled man turned to Delphine.

"Miss O'neill, do you have your records on hand? Tax forms, business license, insurance information, bank records, and such other relevant documentation..." The man began to ask those questions and many more, diving right into it so quickly that Delphine may have missed that he called her by the last name neither she nor Darien had ever offered, his italian-accented voice neutral and almost eerily devoid of emotion, as if this were just another day at the office for him. As he spoke, he reclaimed his thick briefcase from Grigori and opened it on the counter, wizened but still precise fingers walking through the myriad papers inside, occasionally removing a relevant folder and setting it aside, stacked neatly.

[brokecollege]

The second man, Darien explained, was a close family friend as well as an attorney. "An attorney?" she repeated. Immediately, she was filled with questions. When had Darien called the attorney? Even more pressing, how did he know that an attorney was something which they would need? Did Darien know that she was going to accept his proposed arrangement even before he asked her? Well, he must have.

She opened her mouth to speak, though before she could the pair were approached by the elderly attorney. He looked between the two--though, mostly at Darien--before presuming to start a conversation with Darien. Delphine would have loved to been involved with it, seeing as how it involved her store, but the two men made sure that didn't happen. For starters, they spoke in a language entirely foreign to Delphine. And whenever they spoke, it was in rapid bursts--so, even if she did know some Italian, she would still be unable to keep up with their speed.

After a few minutes of their back and forth conversation, the attorney turned to Delphine and proceeded to ask her a hundred different questions. Did she have this, did she have that, where did she keep this? What records did she have, what did she not have. God, even when he spoke in her native tongue, it felt like he was speaking a different language! The man grabbed his bulky briefcase from Grigori and, while still speaking, began to pull document after document out.

Delphine, although not entirely understanding anything that was going on, nodded to all of the attorney's questions. She explained that all of her shop's records and documents were neatly filed away in the backroom and that any other documents he needed could be either printed from her laptop or retrieved from the bank itself. Delphine was an organized person, as was her father. Every document that ever went through the store, was immediately filed away for safe keeping.

(whoops, i fixed it!)

[Damonique]

Darien could see Delphine beginning to panic as she began to realize how much effort had been put in behind the scenes in preparation for just this moment, and how much her role in her own life's decisions had been diminished in such a short time.....and she had likely only scratched the surface of that particular revelation. It was all part of their deal. Darien would save her store, erase her debts, and give her a new lease on life. But not any life she chose. Just the one with him in it, where he acted as protector and provider, as his upbringing had taught him a man should always be....and then a step further.

Luckily, Vidal's flurry of questions and requests kept her distracted from questioning this outright, as Delphine was caught answering all manner of questions and sent scurrying after particular documents, leaving Darien himself time to think on what he was supposed to say to her when the questions inevitably came. And there would be questions, he knew, so many questions, and harsh words, and the defiance that came before acceptance. These thoughts made it difficult for the man to maintain the mask of confidence he wore, as if nothing was amiss.

Gian read over the records Delphine provided with the careful eye of a professional, and once he was done, gave the first even remotely positive statement she had received from him since he came through the door, though it was still delivered in the same clinical, emotionless manner the man seemed to say anything, his focus entirely on the task at hand.

"Well organized, well run, annual profit set back only by incidental hazards and routine, and I presume quite necessary, liens and loans. A doomed venture, ultimately, but only because supporting a family entirely the proceeds of a small, artisinal establishment is no longer feasible." It was simply a reaffirmation of what Delphine had likely already known, that regardless of how hard she worked, no matter if she did everything right, a small, family-operated flower shop in a low-income area simply couldn't compete with the cheaper offerings at every supermarket and drug store. Still, it was surely good for her to hear that it was no fault of her own that the business would fail.

"Sign this...." The lawyer continued, filling out a printed form from his briefcase with the correct names and amounts before passing it over to her, and offering his own gold-plated inkpen. When instead of complying immediately, Delphine began to attempt to read the document inquisitively, the man sighed and immediately began to attempt to explain it's purpose.

"It's a bill of sale, indicating that precisely two weeks ago, you transferred business license, title, and lease responsibility for Louise's Garden and all contents thereof to Illustrious Holdings, LLC for the amount indicated here..." He went on to say, and pointed to the indicated section. It was a generous sum, to say the least, far more than the shop could possibly be worth, and if Delphine took the time to do the math, she would realize that it was exactly enough to pay off all of her debts, both personal and under the name of the business, with roughly $10,000 left over.

Of course, all Delphine would be able to pay attention to was the fact that it said she not only was, but actually already had, sold her shop.

[brokecollege]

Once Delphine provided the attorney with every page, book, and document he needed, the man took a few minutes to read everything over. And then, once that was done, he turned to Delphine to offer her a compliment. Or, half a compliment mixed with the harsh truth. Either way, Delphine offered him a smile. The elderly man then pulled something else out of his bulky briefcase and then thrust it into Delphine's hands with an order for the woman to sign it.

Delphine looked over the document before glancing over at the attorney. If you have to sign her, her father once told her, then read it carefully. But, she wondered, was she offered that luxury in this position? The redhead pursed her lips together before she turned her attention back to the document to just briefly graze over the words. Though, before she could get too far into it, the attorney interrupted her with an explanation.

The document, he explained, was a bill of sale. He went into more detail about the document and all that it entailed, but Delphine did not pay attention to anything else. Bill of sale? As in, she was selling off her shop to Darien and his attorney? She looked over at Vidal, and then at Darien. To save her shop, she had to give it away. She didn't want to do that. But... she looked down at the document, and then closed her eyes.

She already agreed to this. She couldn't back out, at least not without some form of consequence. Delphine took the gold plated pen that was offered to her and, with some obvious hesitation, signed her name on the dotted line. "Here you go," she whispered as she handed the pen, and the paper, back to the attorney. "Is.." she sucked in a breath and folded her hands over her chest. "Is that all that I have to do?"

[Damonique]

"Yes. Our people will take care of the rest, and the money should be in your account by Monday morning. It may take some time for you to resume operations, insurance will have the be dealt with, renovations made, new suppliers found, and other issues ironed out. Enjoy being debt-free, Ms. O'neill." Vidal answered, although his well-wishes seemed artificial, and then turned to leave, only stopping to say a few words of Italian to Darien, and dip his head in a gesture of respect. Those 'other issues' would be dealt with later, once Delphine was settled.

The redhead then turned her attention back to Darien, who seemed utterly content. All had gone as well as could possibly be expected, since all the records were in order. There were a few questions Delphine might ask right away, the first concerning the sale in question, and why it had to be made two weeks earlier, at least on paper. Illustrious Holdings was one of his outfit's shell corporations, through which they handled low-risk business.

And while Delphine had let her own insurance lapse, the company's policy was quite robust, and up to date. It was fraud, plain and simple, but the kind one could easily get away with. Her previous broker would be glad to be rid of the account and to receive the back-payments owed, while Darien's company would eat the loss without questions. They were very thankful for his business, and thus very accommodating towards his needs.

More importantly, it meant that all of this could be handled without a criminal investigation, as the company's representative would not be pressing charges or wasting law enforcement's 'precious time'. The break-in would be dealt with, but not through official channels. Darien had something...else, in mind for that. And if those questions came to pass, he would answer them in a flowery manner that avoided outright lies while softening the truths, but he hoped to be able to nip them in the bud.

"I'm sure you've had a difficult morning, Delphine. Would you like to join me for lunch? I have a standing table at a very fine delicatessen on Cambria Street where we could eat and discuss....everything." He said simply before she could say a word, as if nothing in the world was amiss, practiced confidence permeating his tone and manner. It was an invitation he had made before once or twice, but was always rebuffed by Delphine, who was either taking a working lunch or needed to get home to care for her mother while she was off the clock.

But this time, rather than those others, even though he made it as if it were a genuine request, Delphine was in no position to refuse. After all, she was his, now.

[brokecollege]

Vidal informed Delphine that, yes, that was all that she had to do. She released a quiet breath--good. The attorney then explained that the money that they agreed upon would be placed in her account by Monday, and after some other issues were dealt with, then Delphine could resume working at Louise's Garden. She nodded her head in understanding and muttered a quiet "thank you" just as Vidal turned and bid farewell to Darien.

Vidal could barely make it out of the shop before Darien was turning to Delphine and asking her about lunch. Delphine bit down on the inside of her cheek and looked around her shop. She should really clean up the shop before she went anywhere--but, at the same time, she should really take the time to take to Darien about this new arrangement of theirs. Delphine opened her mouth to agree, but was interrupted by the cry of a woman, "Oh my God! Del? Delphine? Are you okay?!"

The door to the shop flew open, and a woman with platinum blonde hair rushed inside. She paused at the sight of Grigori and Darien, though when she caught sight of Delphine she was in front of the girl in an instant. She took hold of Delphine by her cheeks, quickly tilting the redhead's face this way and that way. "Oh my God, Delly! Are you okay? You're not hurt, are you?" she worriedly questioned. Delphine shook her head as she placed her hands over her friend's hands, "No. I'm fine. I promise, Rosa." she assured.

Rosa released a breath of relief and dropped both of her hands back to her sides, "Oh, thank God! Do you know how worried I was?" Delphine offered her friend an apologetic smile before, again, reassuring the girl that she was fine. With her friend's safety now ensured, Rosa turned her attention to the two strange men lingering in the shop. She turned her slim figure towards Darien and, with a raised brow, spoke, "And who are you?"

"He's a friend." Delphine quickly answered, "Darien Fiore. And, his friend is Grigori Vaughn." Rosa's lips parted in shock---Darien Fiore, from the Fiore family? She turned to look back at Delphine for some kind of silent explanation, but when she was offered none she pursed her lips and turned back to Darien. "And what is Mr. Fiore and his friend doing here?" she questioned. "He's... a customer. A regular," Delphine explained.

Rosa slowly nodded her head before she turned back to face her friend. "Delly, can I talk with you, maybe? In private?"

[Damonique]

She was about to accede to his request, and Darien was already halfway to offering her his hand to hold on their way to the car when what appeared to be a pale blonde whirlwind swept past him into the store, headed straight for Delphine. Grigori dropped his smile immediately and dropped into a defensive posture, stepping between the newcomer and Darien, one hand settling inside of his coat before the patently harmlessness of the young woman became clear.

Rosa, a friend of Delphine's. Clearly a good one from her immediate concern as to her well-being. Usually, good friends were a good thing, but in their particular situation it could be a double-edged sword, a witness and influence beyond his control. Delphine herself, naive as she was, saw nothing but the best in everyone, himself included, but her friend may be more cynical than that. Darien would have to be careful what he said to the blonde, and what sort of impression he made.

He was just beginning to politely offer her his hand, and opening his mouth to introduce himself properly when he caught it, a far too familiar series of expressions. A spark of recognition in Rosa's eyes, followed by flash of surprise....and then a sudden guarded, suspicious look that told him that she had heard of him, and didn't like whatever it was she had heard. Darien didn't know where exactly she had heard his name or seen his face, but he could guess it wasn't an unbiased source. The tabloids, perhaps, or some podcast dealing in 'mafia drama'. It didn't really matter, because he could hardly deny the simple fact that he was a criminal, born and raised. Now his only option was to let the truth come out and see how Delphine handled it.

"By all means, put your friends mind at ease, Delphine. Just remember that you aren't the only one born into a family business. I'll be waiting for you by the car." He said airily, seeming entirely unperturbed by this turn of events, but making it clear that whatever it was she heard should be taken with a grain of salt, and that regardless of how she reacted, he still expected her to be leaving with him.

[brokecollege]

Delphine was about to excuse herself and Rosa from the two men when Darien suddenly pitched in with a rather vague statement. Rosa waited until the man and his friend were out of the shop before she grabbed the redhead by her hand and dragged her to the backroom. Delphine was surprised by the girl's urgency. Rosa, while having a flare for the dramatic, was never known to be the urgent type. So, whatever had her rushing to get Delphine into a secluded area must have been of some importance.

Once in the backroom, Rosa released her friend's hand to look around the backroom. She looked almost as if she was trying to ensure that the two were alone, even though they were the only two people in the room. "Rosa. Rosa, what's got into you all of a sudden?" Delphine questioned. Rosa, once sure that they were alone, turned around to face her friend. "What has gotten into me? What has gotten into you! Del, don't you know who that 'regular customer' of yours is?!" she questioned in a hushed whisper.

Delphine nodded her head. Yes, she knew exactly who he was--he had told her himself. "His name is Darien Fiore, and he is a businessman," Delphine explained. Rosa almost laughed--a businessman? Oh, sure. And she was the Queen of England. She crossed her arms over her chest, sucked in a deep breath, and then spoke. "No, Del. He isn't a businessman. Darien Fiore is the leader of a very large, very powerful, and very dangerous mafia. The man and his family have been accused of a hundred murders and a thousand different crimes. So, congratulations. You've just befriended a very powerful and dangerous man!"

Delphine tensed--what? No. That couldn't have been true. Darien was so nice and kind, and he had... no, she had... agreed to be his... oh, God. "Oh my God. Tell me you're kidding, Rosa. Tell me that isn't true." Delphine whispered her tone almost that of a beg or plea. Rosa shook her head, "It is true. I've seen that man's face on a dozen crime magazines, and even in Value Reports. You know, the one Marcus works at..." she trailed off, "Why? Are you worried now? Well, you should be. If I were you, I would just tell him that I didn't want to be friends anymore. Say something like... you're moving, or you don't have time to focus on friends."

Delphine plopped down on a nearby stool with a look of complete despair. Oh, if only she could. "I didn't.. I'm not friends with him. It's worse, Rosa. It's.. it's so much worse." she whispered. Rosa frowned. What could be worse than having accidentally befriended a mobster? But, before she could ask, Delphine had stood up and rushed out of the backroom. "Del? Delphine, where are you going?" she called as she ran after her friend.

"I have to fix this. I'll be back, Rosa. Just.. watch the shop for me, okay?" she replied as she threw open the shop door and stepped outside. With a little bit of hesitation, Delphine folded her hands in front of her and made her way over Darien's car. If Delphine had really made a deal with the devil, then she was going to have to find a way to get out of this. But, first things first, she needed to speak to him.

[Damonique]

As Darien and headed back towards his Mercedes in silence, Grigori in tow, each step further from the store, away from Delphine, felt like it was taken against a raging tide. As he waited by the car, he knew this 'Rosa' would be poisoning her mind against him, repeating the difficult truths and blatant lies, exaggerated, mixed and mingled until they bore no resemblance to the real picture that the media loved to print about him.

He knew it had been almost a miracle that she hadn't figured it out sooner, a simple google search would have told her who, what he was. But Delphine was the trusting sort, and so had carried on in a blissful state of ignorance from the moment their 'courtship' had begun. For Darien, it had been a breath of fresh air, someone, anyone, who didn't treat him differently, be it with disdain or respect for his last name. It had reminded him of those blissful years he had spent abroad at University, before tragedy and duty had brought him back here.

So he waited as a minute turned to five, trying to work out what he could say to Delphine when....if, she came back. He knew her word was her bond, but some things could break even that sentiment, and this may very well be one of them. He could see Rosa's car right there, parked on the curb, and it was just as likely the two would get in it and leave, immediately. Darien didn't know what he would do if that happened. On one hand, a deal was a deal, on the other, there was nothing he could do to force her compliance that wouldn't make her hate him. And that was precisely the opposite of what he wanted.

Instead, he had to find some way to make her understand that he had never truly lied to her, only left questions she didn't ask unanswered, and that he was still the man she had gotten to know, and even grown an affection for, over these past several weeks. The only thing that made him believe that was possible was the kiss they had shared....Delphine could have had a million other reactions to his advances in that moment, not many of them good, but she had kissed him back instead. And surely, that had to mean something.

After minutes that felt like an eternity, the redhead finally appeared...alone, surprisingly, and approaching his car. Rosa wasn't far behind, of course, watching through the windows rather than holding her back, so at the very least she was allowing her friend the benefit of the doubt before doing something rash. Darien knew better than to smile, Delphine's expression told him all he needed to know as to her state of mind. She was angry, confused, and hurt....and owed all of that to himself.

[brokecollege]

The closer Delphine came to Darien, the more nervous she grew. If what Rosa said was true, and Darien really was a dangerous gangster, then she needed to get out of this arrangement. But, how could she do that? Darien had already fulfilled his end of their deal, so she doubted he would let her leave without giving him something in return. Like, for example, what they agreed upon. And if he was a powerful gangster, then he could very well force that out of her.

When Delphine was about a foot or two away from Darien, she came to a stop. The more she thought about her situation, the more she came to realize that if Rosa was right, she had no way out of this. She wanted to be positive about this, but she really could not see a way out of this mess she had gotten herself into. At least, not one she liked. But, she was getting ahead of herself. After all, she hadn't even confirmed whether or not Darien was a gangster.

He could very well just be a businessman who happened to get himself wrapped up in rumors. And if he actually was a gangster... well, then there must be a way out of this. There had to be, otherwise, she didn't know what she would do. With a determined breath, Delphine lifted a hand to gesture towards his waiting car. "Are you ready?" she questioned. She waited until the backseat of the vehicle was opened before she slid inside.

She waited until Darien was in the car and the doors were closed before (rather anxiously) blurting, "Darien, what do you do? I mean what kind of business are you in? And is it all... is it all legal and legitimate business?" she paused to release a breath, before adding, "What I mean is, are you a... do you have affiliations with like, the mafia?" Once the question was out in the air, Delphine almost slapped herself. What was she doing, asking the man before the car was even started?

What she should have done was waited until they were almost done with lunch and already in the discussions regarding their arrangement. But, no, Delphine had to blurt out her questions before the driver could get into the car. She looked down at her lap and closed her eyes. "I'm sorry, that was... I should have asked you in a better manner." she apologized, "It's just, well, Rosa told me that you did and..."

[Damonique]

Darien opened the door for Delphine without a word, only raising an eyebrow. Getting in the car with him at all was quite brash of her, if she believed whatever it was she had been told about him. So either she didn't believe it, or trusted her heart over her head in this matter. He had never threatened her, never coerced her, and while he knew better than to deny taking advantage of her trust, he felt he had done everything possible to deserve it.

Once they were settled in the car, though, her calm facade shattered entirely when the tension became too much to bear, and she asked the question he knew had been coming and tried to prepare himself for. But it wasn't accusation he was expecting, but a legitimate question, gently asked. And worst of all, was the glimmer of something akin to hope, as if she were pleading for him to deny it all as a misunderstanding. The man tensed, steeling himself for the difficult conversation ahead, and Delphine clearly sensed his change in demeanor, becoming suddenly flustered, tripping over herself trying to apologize.

At first, he thought it was out of fear, it finally sinking in that if, when she received the answer she hoped against, how dangerous of a position she would be in, locked in the back of a car with a 'dangerous felon'. But then he realized that no, the apology was genuine. Despite the mess of emotions and thoughts she must be facing, the redhead was still concerned about hurting his feelings, of all things. It was as adorable as it was sad.

"It's true. Not everything they say about me, but enough of it. I am Darien Fiore, third son of Juliane Fiore, Grandson of Giovanni Fiore, sole living heir to the terzo familia of Sicily. I told you, you aren't the only one with a family business to carry on, and mine is cosa nostra. Call it what you will, the mafia, the mob, organized crime. To me, it's just mi Familia." Darien answered without pause, his tone neutral, his blue-grey eyes locked onto the emerald pools of her own with the same intensity she had seen when he barged into her store little more than an hour ago, fearing for her life.

Once he was situated, Grigori started the car immediately, hearing nothing through the thick soundproof glass separating the front of the Mercades from the luxurious red-leather rear compartment, and they were off. Whatever she thought of that, it was too late for Delphine to run from the truth now. It would prove to be a long afternoon.

[brokecollege]

After a moment of quiet consideration, Darien answered her questions in full: yes, he informed, a good portion of what others said about him was true. He was Darien Fiore, third son of Julian Fiore, grandson of Giovanni Fiore, and sole heir to the "terzo familia" of Sicily. He was, as Rosa had tried to convince her, apart of the mafia. What little hope Delphine had left shattered, and her heart sank into her stomach.

So, then, there was no way to get out of this arrangement. At least, no way that didn't include Darien's "familia" coming after her, or her shop. "Oh. I see." she was all said, all that she could say. She turned her gaze towards her lap. The young redhead toyed with her fingertips, nervously picking at her nails and the dirt that was beneath them. After a complete minute of silence, Delphine stopped picking at her nails and glanced towards Darien.

When they were making their agreement, Darien had told Delphine that he wanted her to be entirely his. But, he had never specified what he meant or how long he meant that for. So, if Delphine couldn't get out of their arrangement, then perhaps she could use that to her advantage. If not to lessen her time with the gangster, then to at least create some distance between them. "Uhm.." she cleared her throat and smoothed her hands down her legs. "For our deal... what you wanted me to do..."

"H-How... How long do you think that would be for? A day? A night? A week?" she questioned. She lifted a hand to her hair to fiddle with the tips of it--another one of her habits (albeit a rather nervous one) that she had picked up from her childhood friend. "I mean, it's just, well, you see, I'm a boring person..." she trailed off. Oh, God. The only decent plan she had was being butchered alive by her terrible nerves. She tried to take a breath to calm herself, but that did nothing. Of course. "And you're not. Uhm, obviously. And so I think that if I stayed around for a long time, I would.. I would bore you. And I don't want to do that." she quickly explained.

[Damonique]

Surprisingly, the truth coming out was more a relief that anything else to Darien....every day he walked into the shop, claiming to be seeking a rose when in truth, he was seeking after her, there was always a knot of tension that that would be the day she would confront him, after a magazine caught her eye or she decided to do a little research on her new 'friend'.

But somehow, that day hadn't come until after she had already given herself over to him, crossed her heart on it and sealed it with a kiss. A despite whatever she might be feeling, Delphine seemed intent on holding up her end of the bargain....at least, in a fashion...he noted, as she wrung her hands and tried making excuses for herself. He decided to answer her questions in order, starting with the bluntest and harshest answer of all.

"How long do you expect our arrangement to hold? the answer is however long to you intend to keep your shop. How long do you intend to enjoy financial security, to go to work without fear of creditors breathing down your neck, or, I might add, of some uncouth hoodlums wrecking up the place again....once word gets out of who it belongs to, who you belong to, there will be no fear on that account. If the answer is for the rest of your life, than that's the answer to your question. Seems only fair to me." He explained in that dispassionate, emotionless way that he discussed all of his business dealings, plain facts without a hunt of sugar-coating. There would be room for feelings elsewhere, but when it came to a deal, a Fiore kept to exactly what was agreed upon, no more, no less.

Next up were her attempts to excuse herself by virtue of not being worth the trouble. It irked him for the object of his desire, the woman with whom he'd chosen to place his hopes, to belittle herself so, and it showed on his face in a flash of disappointment across his features, his stormcloud eyes regarding her own in a manic intensity that was also clear in his voice as he said his next piece.

"Delphine....from the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you were special. If you weren't, why would I keep coming back? I'm a busy man, very busy, as you now know. But week after week, day after day, whenever I could find the time, I chose to spend it with you. Your a lot of things, Delphine, but you aren't boring. What did you think was really going on, Delphine?" Darien stated, and then, reached up to where she was entwining her fingers in her rich auburn curls, moved her hand out of the way with the tips of his fingers, and gently brushed the errant stands back into place behind her ear. The simple gesture was nearly automatic, as he had done it a million times before...for Delilah. Whenever she had started doing that, it meant she was getting flustered about something, same as Delphine was flustered now, and didn't like the way it tended to fray the tips of her curls. When she looked at him, he was smiling softly, seemingly utterly unperturbed by their awkward situation, removed his hand, a delved right back into his speech.

"You had to have some inkling that my interest was in more than your flowers, if not by the third visit, at least by the seventh. How many times did I offer to take you to lunch, or out for an evening? It was courting, what men are supposed to do to catch the eye of women they wish to know more...intimately." He continued, that pent-up disappointment bleeding through. While it had never shown at the time, Darien had been hurt each and every time he had been rejected...yes, in the sweetest of terms, with the sincerest of apologies, but rejected nevertheless.

[brokecollege]

A day. A week. A month, maybe two. That was how long Delphine had thought their arrangement would last. But, with the way that Darien explained it, it sounded like this arrangement of theirs could very well last till the end of her life. That was Delphine's luck--not only was the man she quite literally sold herself to the leader of the mafia but on top of that this arrangement was meant to last an entire lifetime!

When she mentioned how boring of a person she was, disappointment flashed across Darien's face. Was that disappointment because he agreed with what she said, or because he was disappointed that she was trying to use such a ridiculous excuse to get herself out of this arrangement? She was special, he said. That was why, despite the incredibly busy life he led, he continued coming to the shop.

Delphine's cheeks flushed in embarrassment and surprise--she had thought, being a naive girl, that he kept returning to the shop because of the flowers. Or, even, because of the brief conversations they held. But never did she think he kept returning because of her! Darien then, in the middle of his speech, reached up and urged Delphine's hand from her hair. He brushed the strand that she had been toying with behind her ear in his ever so gentle manner before continuing.

Wasn't she aware, even a little bit, that Darien liked her? And the honest answer was, no. Delphine was blissfully unaware, despite his subtle flirtations and offers to take her out. She was unaware that he felt something right up until the moment that he kissed her. And while that was partly due to her dedication towards her family and her shop, that was also due towards her own denial. She had never thought in a million, trillion years that someone like Darien could have been interested in someone like her.

There was no reason for it--at least, according to her. "I-I didn't know." she finally answered. "I just.. I thought you were nice. You were just so different from me; I didn't think that anything between us could ever happen. And.. And then I was so worried about my family. I haven't seriously entertained the thought of romance in.. in years." she added.

[Damonique]

Darien could see the shock on Delphine's features when he answered her first question, as she finally began to realize what precisely she had agreed to. Somehow, he didn't think she would be so adamantly against the idea if she had never learned his true occupation, as she'd seemed willing enough when first his lips brushed her own, when he had just her friend Darien, the strange man who wanted roses with thorns and the pleasure of her company, rather than Darien Fiore, the mobster and criminal that held her whole life in the palm of his hand. If only she could realize the two were one in the same.

And then out poured more hasty denials that seemed more and more half-hearted as they went on, her voice growing higher in pitch and freckled features darkening to nearly the shade of her hair as they continued. By the end, Delphine seemed more embarrassed than he had ever seen her....and it truly was adorable, so much so that Darien could help but give a knowing smirk. If there was anything there that Darien could believe entirely, it was that Delphine had gone a long, long time without considering herself romantically available, sheltered away in her little shop where men, single men most of all, rarely frequented, leaving her little more than fantasies and daydreams.

"How different can we truly be, Delphine? Besides age and occupation, I got the impression we had quite a lot in common. We both had our lives derailed early by tragedy, and set aside dreams and passions out of dedication to our families, our legacy. Remember when I asked you what you would be, if not selling flowers? You told me you wanted to be a teacher, that you had been going to college and doing quite well at it before you had to drop out to take over." It had been well over a week ago, a short conversation that Delphine had likely thought little more than small talk, but Darien remember it perfectly, as he did all of their exchanges, playing over a hundred times in his head.

"And you asked me what I would do if I wasn't engaged in my family business. Do you remember what I said?"

[brokecollege]

How different could they be? Well, she wanted to answer, immensely different. But where she saw differences between them, Darien only saw similarities. Both suffered through tragedies early on in their lives, and both were forced to set aside their dreams and their passions for the sake of their families and their legacy. She frowned--well, that was true. But what little similarities that they had did not erase the many differences between them.

One of the more significant differences being that Delphine was a struggling shop owner, whereas Darien was the leader of a powerful and dangerous mafia. When he mentioned how she had gone to college for a teaching degree, Delphine smiled. It had only been a few years since she had gone to college, and yet it felt like another lifetime ago. And yet, despite how far away it seemed, the urge to go back was still so strong. She looked down at her lap and nodded her head. "I remember." she murmured.

She remembered that conversation, and she remembered that day. She remembered the look in Darien's eyes when she directed his question back at him--that far off look of sadness and regret, and then shame at feeling such emotions. And she remembered his answer, or at least she vaguely did. She'd been too caught up with the brief emotions his eyes had displayed, and the familiarity she had with them, to remember his actual answer.

Delphine looked up from her lap to Darien and then gave a sort of smile. But she could have laughed. She had originally got into the car to fix this mess she'd gotten herself into, and now here she was talking about their differences and the surprise she had felt with his confession. What a change of events. But, she supposed the change of conversation was for the better. Delphine wasn't going to be able to get out of this, no matter how hard she tried to. So why linger on the subject any longer? Darien had kept his end of the deal, and now Delphine must do the same--regardless of who Darien was, and what he did.

[Damonique]

The man watched with curiosity as all of the worry and embarrassment was replaced with a look of calm introspection on Delphine's part at his question, remembering that particular day. It had been one of Darien's good ones, where he had been personable and charming, although perhaps less so after the question was turned back on himself, but he had answered it then, and would again now.

"Art....that's what I went to school for. Painting. Landscapes or Portraits, in Oil or Resin, I had what my teachers called l'oeil, an eye for color and proportion. I enjoyed it, I was good at it, and if things had gone differently I'd be opening a gallery in Paris or Prague, a long way from this city, this country, even. But things went as they did, and we find ourselves here." He answered passionately, going into even further detail than he had during their first discussion of the subject. It wasn't something he spoke of often with business associates, to many of his peers, artists were seen as soft, effeminate even, and such an image was unsuitable for a man who needed to command not just respect, but also fear.

Before Delphine could say answer him, the car came to a sudden stop. It was difficult to see through the tinted windows, but they were in a part of the city nothing like the one they had left. It wasn't until Darien stepped out of the car, put on his dark, expensive sunglasses to complete his 'image', and walked around the car to open Delphine's door for her in turn, politely offering her his arm in a way that seemed quite archaic, that she could take it all in. This neighborhood was upscale, vibrant, and busy. And also, quite Italian. Cambria Street, Little Sicily.

It was in an old part of town remade by money...mostly, Darien's own money. The streets were wide and cobbled, rather than paved, coming from a time before cars were common. The main thoroughfare ended with a catholic church displaying beautiful stained-glass windows, and old graveyard dotted with mausoleums spreading out green behind it as far as the eye could see. Along the sides were businesses, each and every one of which seemed to advertise itself with a covered patio out front, where old men sat playing chess and smoking cigars, rich women flaunted their latest purchases from designer boutiques, and young couples sat kissing, too distracted by one another to notice their coffee growing cold. It was like stepping out of America and into a little slice of Rome or Ravenna, and all the sights, sounds, and even smells were utterly foreign to her.

Delphine seemed too entranced by the sights to do anything but stare, and so Darien gently took her hand in his own to lead her along. Once they were out of the car and the doors shut, Grigori drove off to find a place to park in one of the many maze-like side-streets extending off of Cambria. No-one drove in the main piazza, nor did they park there. It was uncouth. If you didn't have a driver, you either parked elsewhere and walked, or used one of the many valets, dark-haired young men, and even a few girls in red vests with oiled hair and smiles, eager to make a nice tip parking cars and giving directions.

Now it was just the two of them, alone, in his world rather than her own.

[brokecollege]

Art, he reminded her. That was what he would have done, had his life not turned out as it had. He would have been an artist and would have gone on to eventually open an art gallery in either Paris or Prague. He didn't look like an artist, or like someone who would ever want to be associated with an artist. But, now that she thought about it, whenever he spoke he sounded like an artist. One who had maybe lost all his hope in art, but an artist nonetheless.

The car came to a sudden stop (though, she couldn't even remember when it began moving in the first place), and before she knew it, Darien was out of the car and opening the door for her. As soon as Delphine stepped out of the car, she froze. Darien said that they were going to a restaurant further into the city, but... it didn't even look like they were in the city anymore! For God's sake, it didn't even smell like the city!

Instead of garbage and pollution, it smelt of freshly baked pastries and fragrant flowers. The streets weren't crowded with rushing businessmen, nor were they littered with garbage of every kind. They were all clean and free of the violent work crowd. And the shops? Oh, they were beautiful! Fancy boutiques lined the street, with equally fancy women going in and out of them. And where there weren't boutiques, there were little cafes with cute names and delicious smelling goods.

Delphine had never seen such a beautiful neighborhood before, nor did she think she ever would again. So entranced by the beauty of it all, Delphine didn't even notice that she had begun to walk until they were a few dozen feet from the car. "This place is..." she trailed off, her gaze following two beautifully dressed women as they walked by them. It was like a dream. The people, the smells, the sights--it was as if Delphine was walking through the streets of Rome. "It's beautiful," she concluded.

And it was fancy. Far more fancy than Delphine was used to. Was it alright for her to wear the kind of clothes she was wearing in a neighborhood like this? Even the employees that they passed all seemed to be dressed in the finest outfits. And, here Delphine was wearing a random skirt and shirt that she'd managed to get from a local Goodwill. She smoothed out her wrinkled shirt with her free hand--well, she could only hope that the restaurant they were going to wasn't a formal one.

[Damonique]

Darien couldn't help but smile as he saw Delphine's eyes open wide with awe at the place he had brought her, beaming with pride and recalling the first time he had brought Delilah there.....back then, it had been a dream, inherited from his father. But with time, effort, money.....and more than a little blood, a burden he had to bear, it was nearing completion. It was hard to imagine that not thirty years ago, this had been one of the meanest slums in the city. Now, to him at least, it was a paradise. And Delphine seemed to agree.

People seemed to part naturally away from Darien, those in the know because they knew exactly who the striking, black-jacketed figure with the silver watch and dark oval sunglasses could be, and the tourists simply because crowds always followed a trend. Many stopped to shake his hand, or offer a short bow of the head, or offer him a sample of their products, whatever they may be. A cup of coffee for him and his companion? Scones, still warm from the oven? Fresh fruit, no? Perhaps a glass of Firenze wine, or something stronger? Some of these who hounded after his recognition were even uniformed police officers, which went to she just how much influence the Fiore name held, at least around here. Nonetheless, he waved them all away politely with a few words of soft Italian. Grigori usually kept them at arms length, but Darien was too polite to completely spurn their attentions, and wanted Delphine to see this, realize exactly who she was walking with.

As for Delphine, most ignored her as anything more than an accessory hanging off of his arm. Intriguing, surely, but nothing to concern themselves with, at least until they were out of earshot where salacious rumors could spread. She wasn't the first, after all. Even after tragedy had stolen Darien's passions, he kept up appearances, spending an
afternoon or an evening of frivolity with a likely girl. The daughters and sisters of his peers who all hoped he'd 'marry in', well-known actresses, and most of all, a dear friend who did like to sell the part. Few got more than a kiss from him, if even that, but the public was allowed to enjoy their gossip and hope their 'prince' might one day marry.

"Thank you, Delphine.....sincerely. To some, it's just trendy gentrification, to others, a rich cultural landmark, and to me....It's my greatest work. An art installation that people live and work in. My grandfather was born here, when it was a much worse place, and fought and clawed his way out. My father came back, looked at it, and saw something that could be grand....and I've spent my time here giving his vision life. If only she could have...." He trailed off, forgetting himself as he walked like in a dream, watching the expressions of surprise and excitement playing over Delphine's delicate features as each new thing caught her eye.

[brokecollege]

Delphine noticed as they continued to make their way down the street, that everyone's gaze seemed to follow Darien. It was as if the man was a magnificent bright light, and everyone else was moths in awe of his beauty. And those who didn't stare after him in awe greeted him with friendly smiles and seemingly random offers of food, wine, or conversation.

Never, in all her years of living, had Delphine ever witnessed the people of the city treat someone else so kindly before. And they did so without hesitation, without thought. It was a kind of amazing, and yet terrifying sight. Darien thanked Delphine for her compliment and explained, in a sort of passionate way, that this neighborhood meant a lot to him. It was where his grandfather had been born, and he had spent his entire life turning the place around.

He continued long enough to mention a woman before finally stopping. She might have been reading too much into his expression, but for a moment there he looked sad. Delphine bit down on the tip of her tongue before she turned her attention towards the boutiques, cafes, and stores that they passed. She wondered--very briefly--what woman it was that he spoke of. She wondered where she was, who she was.

She wondered, and then she cursed at herself for wondering. The woman Darien vaguely spoke of didn't concern her, so she shouldn't think about it. What did concern her was getting to this restaurant, and ironing out the agreement she had put herself into. That's what concerned her, and nothing more. "I don't know what this place looked like before. But it's far more beautiful than any part of the city I've ever seen, so I would save you've done a great job," she informed.

[Damonique]

"The whole city....the whole world could look like this, if the rich put their money towards the world and people around them..." Darien mused in response to her statement, a flash of disdain crossing his features when he said 'the rich'. Darien knew he was one of them, but could no longer relate to those who lived sheltered lives, off sitting on their pedestals and ivory towers. You had to remember where you came from, what you were. His father had tried to teach him that lesson when he was younger, but it wasn't until after the man's death that Darien truly embraced the sentiment.

That passed quickly, though, as soon as he turned back to Delphine, tension and anger melting away at just the sight of her smile. Darien was flattered and mollified, for now. Any earlier unpleasantness seemed to have evaporated in the face of new sights and sounds around them...it was hard for someone who hadn't grown up in such a culture to feel like anything but a tourist here, which meant more money came in than ever left. If one lacked the funds to visit Italy, right here was the next best thing.

Before they reached their destination, a store did finally catch Darien's eye, though, the familiar sight and smell of a flower shop. While this one was larger and grander than her little storefront, the smell was the same, there was nothing you could get here that Delphine didn't sell herself, Louise's Garden prided itself in having a wide selection, here there was simply more of it. There was a girl, prettier than most if no great beauty, out front selling bouquets, and almost dropped a handful of them when she realized who was approaching her and offered him whatever he might find appealing.

The way she batted her eyelashes suggested that if he weren't already accompanied, she would included herself in the offer as well. This was a bit of theatrics as well, for Delphine's benefit, lending truth to what he had said earlier. That she was special, that if all he wanted from her store was roses, or all he wanted from herself was sex...well, neither would be difficult for him to find right here...but it was more than that, the next part for no-one's benefit but his own.

Darien said a few words, money changed hands, and in return he had in his hand a small, pristine, bright orange Delilah, and he turned to gently, expertly affix the flower in her hair, between two curls, stem tucked carefully behind her ear, and then breathed deeply of the mingled scents of the flower, the street, and Delphine herself, evoking a memory, a first date.

A Delilah for Delilah, he had said with a laugh and smile, as if he was the first boy to ever use that particular line on that particular girl, but she had though it sweet anyway, and accepted the flower, and later, himself. He simply stood there, running his fingertips gently around the curve of delphine's ear down to the nape of her neck and back again, reliving it, until he opened his eyes and realized a few people were staring, and took a step back, reclaiming Delphine's hand and leading her down the street once again, as if nothing was amiss.

[brokecollege]

Darien smiled at her comment and then stated that if the rich would help the world instead of hoarding their money, the rest of the world would be this beautiful. She nodded her head in agreement. That was true but, knowing the rich, such a thing would never happen. The rich wouldn't give up a penny to help the homeless, so she doubted they would give up millions of dollars to help the world.

The two came to a stop in front of a large (and beautifully decorated) flower shop. Delphine immediately took to studying the different arrangements--there were large sunflowers by the front door, with red roses tucked between the large petals. Different herbs lined the shop's window, making for an incredible garden display. And, standing near the door of the shop, stood a woman in frilly clothing advertising different bouquets and flowers.

As soon as the woman saw the two--or, at least Darien--her smile brightened. Delphine watched as the woman adjusted her frilly dress, fixed her makeup, and then offered Darien everything she had. Yet despite the girl's effort, Darien paid her no mind. So, not only was everyone kind to him but they were also very, very generous. He purchased a single, orange Delilah from her before he turned towards Delphine and tucked the flower behind her ear. And then, he paused.

Darien closed his eyes and, for a long moment, remained still with his hand gently caressing her skin. There was a faint smile on his face, and yet he still somehow looked sad to her. Like he did when he made the comment about the woman, or about his passion for art. He was troubled. About what, she didn't know. And she supposed she didn't really have a right to know.

Another moment passed before Darien snapped out of his thoughts and took the redhead by her hand. He guided her down the street, though this time he did so more quietly. She chewed on her lower lip in thought before deciding to break the lingering silence between them, "Darien, about our arrangement... how, uhm, how exactly is it going to work?"

[Damonique]

Darien was entirely distracted by Delphine as they walked, indulging in a vivid daydream made all the more real by the flower in her hair and the familiarity of their surroundings, following a series of actions and events like an actor working off a script. Truly, he would rather have simply carried on in that half reality, but Delphine seemed to have other ideas. The spell their surroundings had held over her seemed to have been broken by his actions, a subtle reminder that they were here for more than just a pleasant walk, and her curiosity got the best of her, gently inquiring as to the precise nature of their little 'arrangement'.

Despite her inquiries, his is advances didn't seem unwelcome, in fact, far from it, as Delphine relaxed at his touch, accepting his guiding hand and accepting where it led, but perhaps that was simply because she didn't know what else to do in this situation. So far, this excursion could be mistaken for a perfectly 'normal' first date, especially by someone who hadn't dated in a while...the only difference being the question of weather she was here out of solemn duty or or genuine desire. Darien would have to settle for either.

"Well, in the simplest terms, I want a relationship....but without the usual uncertainty. I've lived enough to know not to trust on words and feeling alone. People lie, hearts make mistakes...a deal seems far more straightforward, don't you agree?" Darien answered in a low tone, close to her ear so they wouldn't be overheard. It seemed reasonable enough to him...despite whatever show he put on, or the offers and accolades were thrust upon him by virtue of his position, he had always felt like an outsider looking in.

The black sheep of not only his own family, but society as a whole, led by shifting tides of emotion he felt unable to control, and distracted by passions and fantasies that did not always line up with the reality around him. He disguised these...peculiarities under a careful facade, a mask that fit people's expectations for a man in his position. Confident, self-absorbed, and arbitrary, the world at his command...but never really believed it for himself.

[brokecollege]

What Darien wanted from Delphine was a relationship--but one without uncertainty and without mistakes. Delphine hadn't been in too many relationships before, but she had been in enough to know that relationships were all about mistakes and uncertainty. Without the uncertainty, the mistakes, and the mishaps then a relationship was nothing more than an organized deal. Though, that was what Darien wanted.

When asked if she agreed, Delphine shook her head. A relationship through a deal did seem more straightforward, but she didn't agree completely with it."Relationships are hard. But, I think that they are supposed to be that way. If you don't make mistakes, then how will the relationship grow and evolve?" she questioned. She paused, and then quickly added in a quiet voice:

"But I have never tried a relationship through such an organized deal before, so I cannot say that what you want won't work." And she supposed there was only one way to find out if such a thing would work--actually, go through with it. Not that she had much of a choice or anything. "With our..." she trailed off, "What will happen to my mother? And will I be able to continue running my shop?" Because she had technically sold it to Darien, she doubted she would get to do much regarding its finances and bills.

But, she would still very much like to lead the store. It was, after all, the whole reason she had agreed to this arrangement in the first place.

[Damonique]

Darien paid careful attention as Delphine made her feelings on the matter clear. She was right, of course, he knew better than most that people were fallible, mistakes made, things said and done that couldn't be easily taken back. Which as exactly why he hoped this would work. When she was done, they walked in silence for a while longer as he considered this, and then finally nodded once before also shaking his head.

On one hand, she wasn't dismissing his idea outright...Delphine was not one to judge things she hadn't experienced herself, and this was unknown territory for the both of them. On the other, her nervousness at the prospect was palpable...after all, their budding friendship had taken a much more intimate turn in the span of a morning. To Delphine, the reality of the 'new life' he gave her, and whatever it entailed, was one great unknown she'd agreed to far too hastily.

"The first day we met, when you were explaining the significance of a thorned rose. You disagreed with my assessment, claimed love can exist without pain, in a voice that said you truly believed that....that's what I want." Truly, Delphine was the one who had given him the idea. Darien knew full well that this was not the passionate, perfect whirlwind romance she may have been imagining at the time...but that was a fairytail, while this was reality.

He would have gone into further detail, but there were already questions about her life that Delphine desperately needed answered, hoping to cling to the normalcy of the life and routine she already knew, what little 'life' was there. Living at home, caring for her ailing mother in the time she could spare between too-long shifts at the shop trying to keep them afloat. Much of the everyday stress would be gone now, she would finally have free time for herself....and for him. But that didn't mean she wouldn't have the same passion for and derive the same enjoyment form her work as always, and Darien wouldn't have it any other way.

"I know from what little you've told me, Ms. Louise's condition is quite serious, and that the doctors medicare pays for have given up on doing much in the way of real treatment. But that was before, and this is now. I sit on the board of Our Lady of Mercy Hospital, right here in the city. Very exclusive, very well-funded, with a world-class staff and some the most modern facilities on the country. If you'd like, I can make some calls and have her checked in for a full battery of tests to see what they can do by tomorrow." He explained quickly, all business. After all, this had been part of their deal, and even before it had been made, Darien had been doing research and making calls concerning the rare degenerative condition her mother suffered with.

Delilah had always been fond of the woman, seeing her as a replacement for the one she had lost young, and he felt some duty to her memory to see what could be done And now that Delphine had agreed to their arrangement, he no longer had to find some way to pay for the treatment without the girls stubborn pride concerning charity getting in the way. Also, more selfishly, he knew it was yet another way to put..and keep him in her good graces, for what price was too much to pay for the health and life of her own mother?

"As for the shop....that's up to you. One of my companies will own it, at least on paper...but you'll still be manager, free to what you will with it. You'll be on payroll,with an expense account and creative control. You'll have the money to hire a few employees to handle the day-to-day, but free to work as much or as little as you like. It would be nice if you would turn a profit, but it's not strictly necessary, either. I have more than a few businesses that produce nothing but losses to be written off come tax time, another wouldn't be unwelcome." He continued, answering her second question just as they finally reached their destination. It was a well-appointed dining establishment with a name so long and Italian he doubted Delphine would dare to try pronouncing it, with tables both inside and on a covered porch.

Their arrival had clearly been expected, as a well-dressed server was already taking Darien's coat and leading them towards a large table set aside in the corner of the outside dining area, well away from the other patrons for their privacy. Places and menus were set out, and there was a bottle of wine sitting in a bucket of ice and two glasses beside the floral centerpiece.

[brokecollege]

Darien was right--she had said that. And she had believed it when she said it, just as she thought it now. There existed such a thing as love without pain. But, she had always thought that to achieve such a love you must first find the right person. She never had, even for a second, thought of attaining a painless love through the equivalent of a formal, business-like deal.

And then Darien dove into what Delphine was curious about: her mother, and the store. He explained that he sat on the board of Our Lady of Mercy Hospital--a very prestigious, well-funded, and expensive hospital that Delphine herself could have never afforded. Because he sat on the board, he could easily get her mother in for testing and treatment. If they weren't in such a public place, Delphine would have dropped to the ground and cried in relief.

Even though her mother had been diagnosed with a myriad of problems, the doctors never gave her treatment for any of them. Sure, they gave her medication and suggested excellent treatment facilities, but that was the limit of their help. And whenever Delphine approached them about her mother's worsening dementia or her macular degeneration they would just shrug their shoulders and suggest another treatment facility.

So, the fact that someone was making the effort to help her mother... well, it meant a lot to her. "Thank you, Darien." Delphine murmured, her hand gently squeezing his own. "Thank you." Now that her mother's fate was decided, the next order of business was her shop. Though, that too turned out to be a relief. Even though Darien had technically bought the store from her, she was still free to do whatever she wanted with it.

She would be on the payroll, have an expense account, and even have creative control. If she wanted, she could also hire some help! Which admittedly shocked and excited her, as that was something Delphine was never able to do. As soon as he finished with his answer, the two stopped in front of a fancy Italian restaurant. It, like most of the shops in the neighborhood, was filled with beautiful flowers and divine smells.

As soon as they stepped inside the restaurant, they were greeted by a friendly host with an even friendlier smile. After taking Darien's coat, he led the two further into the restaurant where a table had been set for them. "Wow." Delphine breathed in amazement--this man lived his best life in this neighborhood, didn't he? Beautiful sights, delicious smells, and the finest friendliest service around.

It was like he had everything handed to him no matter what it was. But, she reminded herself, that was because he was the leader of a huge and very powerful mafia. If he wanted them two, these people would probably serve up their own money on a platter for him. "It smells lovely in here." she hummed as she took a seat at the table.

[Damonique]

When Delphine thanked him for his kindness towards her family, her eyes threatening to tear up as she gripped his hand tightly of her own accord, trying to express how much it meant to her, Darien couldn't help but smile the most genuine smile she had seen him wear. She had made him grin before, and he often wore the easy, 'fake' smile he so often used to disguise his true emotions, but this....this was real, and radiant, lips peeling back to straightest, whitest teeth that money could buy, contrasting against his deeply tanned skin and midnight-black hair.

He knew, somewhere deep down, that this was nothing to be proud of, that manipulating Delphine's emotions just so to achieve his desired results was at best opportunistic and at worst...well, much worse. But he couldn't help but bask in her approval and relish the opportunity to for once do something truly positive with his position. Yes, he had his charities and benefits, but those were as much a tax scheme and elaborate show for the public as they were a genuine noble act. One of the most important rules for a man in his line of work was to be loved by the masses...after all, they would be the ones sitting on your jury.

His answers concerning her store seemed to come as both relief and joy to the redhead as well, with unrestrained excitement at the prospect of hiring staff and running it in her own right without the weight of bills and debts hanging over her head. Delphine's thanks, her approval, her smile, then, was something else entirely, seeming to brighten the world around them simply by being. When they entered the resturant, despite having eaten here a thousand times before, through Delphine he could see it through her wide green eyes, curious and fascinated at the wonder and novelty of it all.

When they reached their table, Darien showed the same customary, old-fashioned courtesy he had before when they had gotten in his car, sliding back her seat for her and waiting for her to take it before moving to his own, and then finally removed his dark sunglasses to let her see his eyes. They were calm, hopeful, and the deepest blue, unmarred by the usual clouds of grey that hung over both they and himself.

As she pored over the menu, which was, thankfully, printed in English on the reverse side rather than just Italian, with descriptions of the dishes she surely could not pronounce, he busied himself uncorking the bottle and pouring them each a glass of the deep pink vintage rose' that the staff knew he favored early in the day, and offered Delphine her own with a flourish.

[brokecollege]

Delphine accepted the glass that was offered to her with a quiet 'thank you,' but out of habit, she didn't drink it. She set the glass of wine aside and picked up the menu. She first glanced over the Italian version of it, before flipping it over to examine the English side. Though, the English translation read just as foreign as the Italian. Each dish that she read was fancier than the last, with each having a dozen different fancy and unfamiliar ingredients.

After she had thoroughly studied the menu, Delphine set it down onto the table and turned her focus towards the floral arrangement in the center of the table. It was a beautiful arrangement, one that had been perfected by an experienced hand. She wondered if it came from the flower shop that they had passed by earlier--the one with the beautiful displays and pretty employee.

The young redhead smiled and reached forward, her fingertips grazing against the red petal of a tulip. "True love," Delphine hummed as she caressed the underside of the flower. "Red tulips symbolize true love. And daffodils--" her fingers moved across the arrangement to touch the yellow petals of a daffodil. "--they symbolize new beginnings." How fitting, that an arrangement between them would include a flower perfectly describing their situation. A new beginning.

"When I was younger, I had a friend who was always over at the shop. And she knew everything about flowers. I could point to any flower in the shop, and without batting an eye, she could tell me the name, the meaning of it, and its history. I think she was the one person in the world who loved flowers even more than my parents." she smiled. Sometimes, she and Delilah would just spend hours doing that.

Delphine would bring the random flowers that she found, and Delilah would sit them down in front of her and tell the redhead everything she knew about them. She pulled her hand back from the arrangement and set it down in her lap. "Everything that I know is thanks to her. She got married a few years ago, though, so I haven't seen her lately. Talking about her now makes me want to call her." she admitted.

[Damonique]

Darien drank his wine like a true cognizant, swirling it in his glass first, breathing deeply of the scent, and then taking one small sip to test it's flavor before nodding in approval and drinking more deeply. He did this both our of habit, the courtesies that had been drilled into him since childhood, and also for his own sake. The smell, the flavor, the texture....each sensation affected his others, courtesy of his miswired mind, turning even such a simple act into an experience in and of itself.

While he carried out this ritual, Delphine began to speak, leaving her own glass untouched and instead turning her attentions to the floral arrangement that decorated their table, studying each flower in turn and delving into it's meanings. Red tulips meant true love...yellow daffodils, new beginnings. Darien nodded along...enraptured. He knew these meanings by heart, and they were why this specific arrangement always adorned his table, replaced whenever even a single petal began to wilt. There was also a thorned rose hidden among the other flowers...representing loss.

And then the topic changed...for Delphine, it was just making a conversation as she discussed the dear friend she once knew who had taught her so much...an older girl with deep crimson ringlets, deep green eyes, and sun-kissed skin dotted with freckles. Who knew everything about flowers, wrote poetry, and had big hopes and dreams. Delilah. Darien went silent, heart pounding, nearly unable to breathe.

He knew...the second he laid eyes on Delphine and discovered who she was, Ms. Louise's daughter, the little sister Delilah never had, working the same job, half-raised by the same woman. The two were like twin souls, one walking in the other's footsteps. Footsteps that had brought her here....with more than a little help from Darien himself. And so she went on, surprising him twice. First that she had known of their engagement, as he knew Delilah had kept their relationship secret from almost everyone, for fear of what her family might think.

But thinking back to those days, before his happiness had turned to ash in his hands, those small words 'I do' into bile in his throat...she could hardly contain her excitement, and if there was anyone it was safe to share her happy news with, it would be the young girl she once worked with at the flower shop, naive, excitable, and harmless. But the call had never been followed up, just as a wedding had never followed their engagement...Delphine didn't even know her friend had been dead for years.

Darien was too caught up in his own whirling thoughts to respond, and the silence dragged on between them until he was saved by man approaching their table. He was large, older gentleman, thick of neck and waist, with a balding head and an oiled black mustache, who greeted Darien with a jovial slap on the back and a hearty laugh, followed by a burst of Italian, seeming not to notice the tension between them. That introduction finished, the man then turned to Delphine, offering his hand and switching to English.

"Madame, I am Amedeo Calzotta...proprietor of this establishment, which I hope you find to your liking. I see you've hardly touched your wine...it's a fine vintage, light on the tongue, chilled to keep you cool in such a fine spring day. But if you'd rather something else...champagne perhaps, water...even soda, simply ask." He expressed in the most accommodating of tones, and snapped his fingers twice, bringing forward two servers that waited behind him, each one carrying a silver platter. One contained a small, carefully-arranged salad of vegetables and local greens, which was set before Delphine, the other a plate of fresh-baked bread and a variety of fine cheeses, which was set between them. The servers retreated, but the chef stayed, waiting for either thanks or permission to leave from Darien.

"No need for such formality, Amadeo. This is Delphine, a dear friend I've gotten to know over the last few weeks and decided to show the sights. Delphine, Amadeo here is a close friend of my family from the old country, I enticed him to come open a resturant here a few years ago to remind these americian pretenders what real Sicilian cooking tastes like." Darien finally found his voice to say, introducing the two in an easy tone, hoping the prior subject might be forgotten in the distraction.

[brokecollege]

Before their conversation could continue, the pair were interrupted by a jovial old man. He greeted Darien with a slap on the back, a hearty laugh, and then a burst of Italian. Then, he turned to Delphine and, in English, introduced himself. He was Amedeo Calzotta, the owner of the restaurant. However, before Delphine could introduce herself, the older man turned his attention towards her untouched wine.

Delphine shook her head in protest and, with a friendly smile, picked up the glass and took a sip from it. How long had it been since she had even a sip of wine? Years. But, drinking it felt nice. She took another sip before setting the glass back down onto the table, "Oh, no, the wine is just as lovely as everything else in your restaurant. I've just been so caught up in my conversation.." she explained.

Well, she had been avoiding the alcohol out of habit. But, he didn't need to know that. The owner of the restaurant snapped his fingers, and two servers stepped forward carrying shiny silver platters. As soon as the dishes were placed down in front of them, the servers retreated to the kitchen. Delphine watched after them for a moment before she turned her attention to the dishes in front of her. They were simple dishes--salad, cheese, and bread--and yet they still seemed to fancy.

When Darien spoke, Delphine tore her gaze from the food to look at him, and then at the owner. She smiled. "It's very lovely to meet you, Mr. Calzotta. Your restaurant is by far the most beautiful one I've ever been to. I'll have to make it a habit to come here." she hummed.

[Damonique]

Amadeo seemed thrilled by the redheads reaction, thanking her profusely for the compliment, and Darien seized the opportunity to respectfully send the man on his way, and he acceded, promising to return when they wee ready to order and leaving them to their privacy, taking the small hint from Delphine that they were still in the midst of a conversation...the subject of which he was desperate to change.

Even though she reminded him of Delilah each and every time they spoke, sometimes by her words and habits, others by simply being someone he could project his desires upon, this was the first time she had spoken of her in such detail....and it was both sweet and painful for him to hear how much the younger woman had respected her, and still thought her alive somewhere, happily married. Another reminder what could have been, but now could never be. Darien knew it would come out eventually, but he wasn't ready yet. He hadn't spoken her name aloud in years...except just the once, in a whisper, when first he saw Delphine stop out of the back room of her mother's shop the day they met.

And even if he were able to tell her the truth, it would put a pall over whatever hope Delphine was beginning to feel for their arrangement to work. Darien knew well enough that no girl wanted to be second-best in their lovers mind to another, even if the other was long gone, to know that every time he looked at her with affection, or delight, or lust that he was only seeing a pale imitation of his true love. She couldn't know, not yet. So he returned to something he could speak of, and would surely pique her curiosity enough to leave thoughts of Delilah on the wayside. What the future he imagined entailed for her...

"Now that we've settled on what I mean to do for you. Seeing to your mother's treatment, securing the future of Louise's Garden, and seeing you own finances...we can discuss something else, more personal. What you mean to do for me in return...." He trailed off, his hand crossing the table to rest upon her own, gently, a reminder that their arrangement had as much to do with the heart as it did money.

He didn't expect her to truly love him, not yet, if ever....but he did want her to feel something for him, some favor or affection, perhaps even desire. Anything more than duty alone to form the foundation of whatever was to come. So he would be accommodating, at least for now until she became used to their...unique situation.

[brokecollege]

A few more words were exchanged between the trio Darien eventually sent the man on his way. Once the two were alone, Darien turned towards Delphine and, after mentioning all that they had discussed on their way to the restaurant, placed a gentle hand upon her own. Her turn. Delphine sucked in a nervous breath but nodded her head in agreement. He had done his part, and now she must do the same.

The thing was, she did not know how to do that. He had given her a vague idea of what he wanted--a perfect relationship without mistakes and uncertainty. But how was she to do that? Was she to set a schedule for this relationship--like when they would meet, where they would meet, what they would do when they meet. Or, was he to do all the planning and she was just to follow it? Or, was there to be no planning at all?

"I swore to you that, if you saved my shop, I would do whatever it is you wanted of me. And you told me that you wanted a perfect relationship without any mistakes. So, I will try my best to do that for you. Whatever you want, Darien, I will do. If you want to go to lunch, or on a date, or if you want me to.." her cheeks brightened, but she continued, "..if you want me to spend the night, then I will. You just tell me what I need to do to make this relationship up to your expectations, and I will do my best to meet them."

[Damonique]

Darien listened, sipping his wine casually as Delphine struggled to lay out her idea of what she thought he wanted from her, politely and calmly, accommodating as always, placing his needs above her own wants and wishes as she spoke of performing up to his expectations. After all, what else could she do after all he had done for her and all she had agreed to? He also couldn't help but detect the note of apprehension in her voice and the flush of embarrassment that filled her cheeks as she quickly skimmed over the more...intimate activities but had been suggested but never properly spelled out.

Flustered was always such a cute look on Delphine...the picture of innocence, reminding him how inexperienced in life she truly was, owing to not only her age, but her fairly sheltered life so far. Being forced to return home so early instead of continuing at college as she planned had forced the redhead to mature more than most in some aspects of her life and behind in others.

Few twenty-two year olds knew enough to apply for their own credit card, much less run an entire business by themselves, or understand what it meant to have a real, full-time job on which one's life depended. But Delphine did....and had done quite well at it, fer financial situation more an extended run of bad luck and a deck stacked against her than by any fault of her own. This he respected without question, and only made her a more appealing choice of partner in the complicated life he led.

But on the other hand, she still carried a wide-eyed idealism and sense of wonderment about the world outside of the home and shop that held the only daily routine she had ever known. Romance and heartbreak were she heard and read about while life passed her by, inhabiting the real of daydreams and fantasies untouched by reality, and her perception of relationships was skewed by having never truly experienced one. It left her pristine, a blank slate unburdened by ideas of 'normalcy'. Able to be taught, and eager to learn. Perfect for what his selfish, irrational desires wanted, no, needed her to be. He waited a moment, collecting his thoughts, before finally answering her.

"You catch on quick...but I never asked for a relationship without any mistakes. You will make mistakes, especially early on. But we'll handle them with a set of rules, agreements, compromises. Just because our arrangement is unequal, that doesn't mean it has to be entirely unfair. I'm not the easiest man to deal with, my life is more complicated than most could imagine...it's better for us both if you know what you're getting into up-front. So we'll talk, we'll negotiate, and we'll agree." He answered in his usual exact, precise, and businesslike manner....it wasn't unkind, but it was adamant. Over a decade of giving orders had honed that edge and left little room for compromises except when absolutely necessary. He'd give Delphine enough lee-way to calm her worst fears and allow her some small victories, but she would have to be careful not to overstep. And then he delved right into it.

"First come the simple things, most of which you already mentioned. I'm a busy man, there's only so much time to do everything in, and as much as I'd like to, I can't devote it all to you....so when I can, I will. I'll call you, and you'll make yourself free...sometimes on short notice. Usually I'll come for you, sometimes I'll send a car. Often it will be for pleasure, sometimes business. I'm often required to attend events, galas, benefits, dinner parties, the like, and find myself in need of female companionship. I have a few....friends, and a service, that usually provides for that, but I wouldn't disrespect you so now that we are...insieme." He explained with few pauses for clarification, and seemed almost about to continue before stopping himself and tilting his head inquisitively to hear out Delphine's thoughts.

[brokecollege]

Delphine would make mistakes, Darien corrected. She would make mistakes, but together they could handle them with agreements, compromises, and rules. Their relationship was unequal, he said, but that did not mean it had to be unfair. Delphine nodded her head in understanding. There was a brief moment of silence between them before Darien continued, though this time to explain what he expected from Delphine.

Darien was a busy man who had very little time for anything, but once he did have the time, he would call Delphine for company. And she was, of course, expected to make herself free--even if it was on short notice. She nodded her head again. He then explained that while normally he would come for her, there would also be times he would have to send for her.

Sometimes, it would be for pleasure. Other times, it would be for business. Business? So, she was supposed to attend the fancy galas and benefits with him? But, wouldn't that be embarrassing for him, seeing as how Delphine was... well, lacking in etiquette and class? However, she did not bring that to his attention. He added that while he usually would call on some women "friends" for such business events, he wouldn't do so during the duration of their arrangement.

"I understand," she stated with a nod of her head. So far, everything sounded pretty easy. All she had to do was come when he called and, in the event that she had to attend some fancy get-together, try not to make a fool of herself or of Darien. And then, when it came to pleasure, she had to... she felt her cheeks heat in embarrassment. "I want to apologize." she quickly added.

"Before we go any further, I mean. I don't... well, I don't have much experience in terms of boys or relationships, or anything other than flowers really." she explained, "But I'll do my best to learn. And not embarrass you."

[Damonique]

Delphine, as expected, took his initial demands in stride. Why wouldn't she? The majority of what he required of her for now was less than what many men demanded of their girlfriends, but that was intentional. For one, he wanted to keep her comfortable, and open-minded as their dance began...and so that would mean obscuring certain parts of his life and activities from her view until she began to understand the demands of his life and her own place in it.

And then, for the umpteenth time, she apologized for her inexperience, not seeming to grasp that it was among the qualities that made her so singularly suited to become the object of his affections. Darien tightened the grip of his hand over her own reassuringly, and looked intensely into her eyes and seeing the self-doubt and nervousness there, and smiled.

"Delphine, don't apologize. I chose you, for me, and it wasn't a choice I made lightly. Today may seem to you like one long coincidence, but it wasn't. I knew already that you would need my help, and was just waiting for you to be ready to accept it. Instead of worrying about every little detail, you just have to pay attention, keep an open mind, and trust me." He answered with an resolve that brooked no arguments, that told how much confidence he had in her...or at least in himself for choosing her. Slowly, he withdrew his hand and placed it on her menu, pointing to a particular dish.

"Order that. It's tasteful, light, and suitable for a more...reserved palate. Don't let the name fool you, it's essentially just seasoned chicken with the Sicilian flair." He stated, masterfully changing the subject and putting an end to Delphine's half-hearted quest to find something familiar on the expansive menu.

[brokecollege]

Darien's grip over her hand tightened reassuringly before he, with a firm voice, told Delphine not to apologize. He chose her, and not just on a whim. Though, Delphine honestly had trouble seeing that to be true. Darien was just so... and she was not. But he insisted that he hadn't chosen her lightly, and that if she paid attention and trusted him then all would be well. Delphine nodded her head as she released a breath. Pay attention and trust him.

Sounds easy enough. Darien then withdrew his hand from over Delphine's to point to a name on her menu. She should choose that dish--despite the name, it was a simple dish that was perfect for a reserved palate. The young redhead glanced down at the menu, before turning her attention back towards Darien. Was her inability to decipher the menu that obvious?

She bit down on the inside of her cheek. How embarrassing! "Thank you," she murmured. When a waiter appeared beside their table a minute or two later, Delphine went right ahead and ordered the dish Darien had suggested. She then handed the menu the waiter and leaned back into her chair, allowing for Darien to make his order.

After the waiter took both of their orders and disappeared, Delphine leaned forward to toy with the wine glass in front of her. "Before, you told me that you wanted to be an artist." she stated suddenly, "Do you still partake in art as a hobby?"

[Damonique]

Delphine seemed to relax and bit at his reassurances, and thanked him for the suggestion as to what to order, showing a flush of embarrassment at having been unable to decide for herself, once again bringing a smile to his lips at her red-tinged cheeks while he made his own order out in flawless and precise Italian. The server vanished, and they returned to their conversation.

The redheads next question put Darien on the spot, for once, as he pursed his lips and considered it, wearing that same look of somber recollection he always did when talking about such things. It was a private disappointment of his that he hardly carried on the art that had once so consumed his life, but painting was a hobby that required focus, patience, and so very much time he could rarely find these days. His obsessive tendencies made it nearly impossible for him to leave any piece unfinished, and so it was easier simply not to start one to begin with.

"Painting? No, not anymore.....it was a passion of youth I had to set aside along with all childish things when my life took a different turn...It's been some time since I've set a brush to canvas." He answered, knowing that 'childish things' line could just as easily been straight from his fathers mouth. The elder Fiore had never approved of his subject of study, but then, he'd never approved of much of what Darien had done with his life, just as his shade was unlikely to approve of what he was doing now.

But it wasn't his father's ghost that kept him from painting, now, but the other ghost in his life. The last painting he had started was the only one he'd left unfinished...covered and set aside along with all his paints, out of sight but never out of mind. Delphine still seemed curious, that curiosity not helped by his suddenly morose demeanor, and so Darien found a bright side to focus on instead, for her benefit.

"That's not to say I can't express myself in other ways...take this piazza for instance..." He threw his arms out at that, as if sweeping up their surroundings. The church, the shops, the wide cobbled thoroughfare dotted here and there with trees and fountains. "...beautiful, yes, but also functional. People live and work here, business is conducted, tourists visit, memories are made. It was my father's idea, but creating it fell to me. I also have my charities, foundations, scholarships...while I may have missed my own chance, the world will have me to thank for the works of those I gave the opportunity." He added, wishing he could feel the sort of pride and accomplishment the words suggested...but instead they felt hollow. Or at least they did until he glimpsed the impressed wonder of Delphine's face. What to him was nothing was, to her, something extraordinary, and his features softened.

[brokecollege]

Darien seemed surprised by her question but answered it with ease. He explained that painting had been a passion of his youth, one which he had set aside among other "childish" things. She wondered if he actually believed that--that being an artist was only a childish thing. Or, if he only said that to convince himself that being an artist was not something suited for him.

But, he quickly added, just because he stopped painting didn't mean he didn't create express himself. He expressed himself through his businesses, through this neighborhood he had created, and through all that he did and said. Delphine smiled. He was an artist. He could convince himself and everyone else that he wasn't, and that art was only a passion of his youth, but it was obvious that wasn't the truth.

He was an artist. He had been, he was, and he would always be. "A wise man once said, it is never too late to be who you might have been." she hummed as she picked up her wine glass. She took a sip from it before gently setting it back onto the table. "You have created this beautiful neighborhood, and have obviously done well in your..." she paused, "...in your business."

"Is it so bad to go back to those 'childish' passions, even if you're doing it as a hobby?" she questioned curiously.

[Damonique]

"...it is never too late to be who you might have been." Delphine said, a simple enough statement that rang with common wisdom, just generic enough to apply to most things, and most people...but not himself. Darien was about to dismiss it out of hand as simply another of her naive platitudes, but then a spark hit him, brought on by not just the words, but the understanding of what he was doing...the carefully-orchestrated attempt to recreate a past he had thought lost.

It was all there, their walk down the wide streets, the flower behind her ear, his choice of meal for her...all of it. What was he doing now if not following in the footsteps of the past, waiting for the moments he wished to change to get a better ending. Another wise man once said that the definition of insanity was doing the same thing over and over, and expecting different results. If that were true, he supposed he was indeed insane, and might as well embrace it.

"You might be onto something there...I'll consider it. And I recall that we never had a formal toast, but you proposed a fine a one as any, when you noticed the daffodils..." He stated with a small smile, indicating the mentioned bright yellow flower in the centerpiece, and then took up his own glass, extending it towards her. "...To new beginnings." He added lightly, After their glasses clinked and words were said, he supposed it was time to move onto the next item on their agenda, having noticed the halting, nervous way she had mentioned his business.

"What do you think I actually do, Delphine. Truly, what comes to mind when you hear a word like 'mafia'? Set pieces from old movies and documentaries with speakeasies, casinos, and tommy guns? Big names like Al Capone, McGurn, and Lucky Luciano?" He asked, waiting not just for her answer, but the look on her face. Even though the syndicate was as much a part of her own culture as cosa nostra was to his, he wondered what her own thoughts were on the subject.

[brokecollege]

Darien thought about what she had said for a moment before announcing that he would consider doing just that. Though, a man as stubborn and persistent as Darien... she doubted he would truly consider her suggestion. Still, she smiled as if she had managed to change his mind. Attention was then diverted from Darien (as she noticed it usually did) and towards something else. More specifically, the lack of a toast.

The older male picked up his glass of wine, and after mentioning her earlier comment about the flowers, toasted to new beginnings. New beginnings, indeed. Delphine picked up her glass from the table and clinked it together with Darien, muttering an agreement about the new beginnings both of them faced. After she took a sip and set her glass back down, Darien spoke again. Though, this time it was to mention his business.

Delphine shifted in her seat as Darien asked her a series of questions. What did she think it was that he did? What did she think when she thought of the mafia? Did she think of Al Capone, did she think of speakeasies and tommy guns? No. She averted her gaze from Darien's, instead choosing to focus on the flower arrangement between them. "I think of death." she quietly replied.

"When I think of what you do, and of the mafia... I think of death. I think of murder, of drugs, of corruption and violence. I think of a gang, but more organized. More deadly, more fear invoking." Delphine was sweet. Delphine was innocent, she was kind. But that did not mean she hadn't seen her fair share of violence, especially living on that side of town as long as she had. When she thought of the mafia, or of gangs in general, she thought of only the most terrifying things. Suddenly, her gaze returned to Darien's. "Am I wrong to think that?"

[Damonique]

Death. That was an answer and then some, Darien thought, and he kept his expression well-guarded as he considered it. Straight to the point, without the slightest reservation or attempt to soften her stance for his benefit. He did respect that, that Delphine was willing to speak her mind so candidly when he asked a simply question. Most people, especially civilians like her, were afraid to talk straight to his face about what they thought about what he did. He nodded imperceptibly.

"You wouldn't be wrong. Our path, my path....It's paved by the same sort of regrettable acts you just described, and more, too many to count. I don't believe there's ever been a man in my family without such sins to his name...and if I said I've kept my list shorter to most, it would be the truth, but still just an excuse." He answered without hesitation, an open book. Darien wanted Delphine to trust him, yes, but he wasn't go so far as to lie in order to gain it. He'd made that mistake before, and wouldn't again. The truth always came out eventually, so better to get her used to it early.

"You don't have to see any of that, you don't even have to hear about it. All you have to do is avoid the temptation to ask...I won't begrudge you the bliss of ignorance. While I'd like you for a confidant, someone to share the burden and weight this life puts on my shoulders, you're better suited to be an escape from it all. After all, that's what I kept coming back to your shop for....more than the roses or the smiles, the relief. To be looked at and spoken to as if I were just another man, neither saint nor monster." He continued with the first smile she'd seen since they had settled on this topic of conversation. Pouring out his heart, his countless sins and regrets to her caring self would be a momentary relief, but he knew she'd never look at him the same again if he did.

"You don't have to pretend to love me, Delphine. I know I didn't buy your heart with the rest of you. You just have to accept me, for all my faults and secrets and....irrantionalities, and you'll have held up your end of the bargain." He added, knowing that second line was a bit harsh, cutting through the pretty words about a romance, a relationship, to remind her that for all intents and purposes, her time was being paid for. But that was the way it was, what he'd have to settle for, what they both had to settle for.

[brokecollege]

Delphine was not wrong--the mafia was just as she described it, filled with death and corruption. She was surprised, not only by the calmness in his voice but his admittance to what he did. Delphine thought that Darien would have insisted that she had the wrong idea about the mafia. She thought that he would have tried to convince her that he was a good person who always did good things.

But he didn't. He admitted that the mafia was bad, and he admitted that he had done bad things. Delphine, however, would not have to see any of that. Instead, he wanted her to be an escape from it all. After all, that was why he had kept returning to the shop. She was an escape from his world, someone who viewed him as neither hero nor villain. She viewed him just as she viewed any normal man.

Delphine did not have to love Darien. She just had to act as his escape. The young redhead nodded her head in understanding, though she couldn't deny the sudden sadness that fell over her. As long as she belonged to Darien, as long as she had to act as his escape, she had to forgo any relationships with anyone else. And that was... sad. Delphine, like any other girl, eventually wanted to find the love of her life.

She eventually wanted to get married, and she eventually wanted to have a home and children. But how could she do that if she technically belonged to a gangster? She couldn't--at least, not without upsetting or angering him. "I understand." she murmured.

[Damonique]

A pall seemed to fall over the girls delicate features as Delphine accepted what he said without comment or complaint, but also without hope or enthusiasm. Darien understood though, for all he'd given her, he had also taken a number of possibilities from her life at the same time. Knowing what he knew through age and experience, he could see a few bright points for her...but to her shy, romantic self, the future looked bleak.

"Cheer up, Delphine....surely you can imagine worse ways to live than this. Your life was heading for shambles before I took matters...took you, into my own hands. And even if it weren't...the life you had before was less than substantial. What did you have time for besides work and sleep? Not hobbies, not dates, not even an afternoon to yourself. If you'd been able to keep the shop open on your own, as you were trying so desperately to do....what then?" He responded in a plain, matter-of-fact way, trying to walk her through his understanding of her situation, thinking back to his previous visits, date offers, attempts at romance. None of it had seemed to phase her, and the only reason for that his pride could accept for that his pride would accept was that she was too busy treading water to see the opportunity in front of her.

"Would you have just carried on that way for the rest of your life, until you woke up one day to realize that you were a single, middle-aged woman going grey, with nothing but flowers and debt to show for a wasted youth? Most young women in your situation would have been hoping, praying for some attractive man with wealth, wit, and eyes only for you to suddenly appear and sweep you off your feet....and I tried to be that man. I invited you to dinners and galas, paid nearly a thousand dollars in tips alone just for that fleeting moment when our hands touched when I traded my money for your rose...and yet you were blind to my advances. Why?" He continued, more seriously...it was a question that had been vexing him for weeks, and now was as good a time as any to seek an answer, now that he had her undivided attention.

Darien was not so vain as to think himself still the schoolgirls fantasy he once was, but he wasn't too blind to know he'd aged well, kept himself fit and well-polished enough that few not looking for realize the perhaps ten years between them was actually fifteen. An physique aside, his well-cultivated persona of power and class, tailored suits and silver jewelry, understated rather than gaudy usually left women, even those younger, richer, and more traditionally beautiful than Delphine swooning. So why shouldn't she be interested?

[brokecollege]

Delphine tried to conceal her disappointment regarding her realization, but Darien saw right through her facade. She should cheer up, he said. There were worse ways to live. And he was right. She should be grateful for all that he had given her, not dwelling on what she lost through the process of it. But now that she had realized what parts of her future she had lost, she couldn't help but be just a little sad.

Darien, in an attempt to rid her of her disappointment, brought up a future she would have had if he hadn't come along. One that featured her alone and in a mountain of debt. He mentioned the many women who dreamt of being in her place--of which she was sure there were plenty. And she didn't mean to seem ungrateful for all that he was doing for her, because she truly was more grateful than she'd ever been.

She was just sad. Delphine had spent her entire life dreaming of finding her true love and creating a family with them. And to know that she couldn't do that because of this arrangement... it was kind of sad. Then Darien brought up the matter of why she rejected his advances. Delphine bit down on her lower lip--what a hard question to answer. "I just thought that we were incompatible. That we were just too different of people to be together," she explained.

And yet that wasn't entirely the truth. Darien was every young woman's dream: he was wealthy, charming, and so very attractive. But that was all that he was focused on. He lacked heart, he lacked sincerity, he lacked the qualities Delilah had told her a man needed. "I am really, truly grateful for all that you've done for me, Darien. I just... I grew up being told that one day I would find my true love. That's all."

[Damonique]

Delphine answered him calmly, and rationally, leaving him with little that hadn't already been said. She was grateful for the opportunities he had given her, comfortable with...or at least accepting of, her new position. But she didn't love him...and by the tone of her voice, never would. That was only fair. No girl wanted to be a prostitute, and for all the pretty words and titles he might give her, he knew that was exactly what he'd turned her into.

And no matter what lies she might tell herself, somewhere deep down, Delphine had to know it too. Darien would be able to live with himself, he already knew well he was going to hell, so what were a few more sins to add to the tally? As for Delphine....well, she'd start off sad, grieving those childish fantasies he had killed and buried, but grief had seven steps and the last was always acceptance.

"True love.... " Darien echoed her last words, in a voice barely more than a whisper, wearing an expression that started in that look of grief, sadness and loss that he had worn the day they first met...thinking of Delilah without knowing that so was Delphine. But that passed, and the look was replaced with another, his eyes becoming two featureless grey pools, his mouth a stern line....and what he said next was in a tone so chilling, so detached, that one could hardly believe it was even the same person talking. It was the only way he could bear to speak of such things, but Delphine at least deserved to know why he seemed so sad again each and every time she mentioned her childish notions of love.

"I"m going to tell you something we are never going to discuss again, and that you will never discuss with anyone else. Do I make myself clear." He stated first, abruptly, and waited for Delphine to give some indication that she heard and understood his instructions before continuing. "You may find it hard to believe, but I was just as naive as you are now, once upon a time. Believed that there was someone out there who would compete me, utterly, and that all I had to do was find them...and I did, Delphine. She was perfect in every way, and yet meeting her was the worst thing that ever happened to me." He paused for a moment, hesitating, still showing no emotion besides the beginnings of a tear gathering at the edge of one eye, as and waited for the next logical question, that being a simple 'Why?'

But before Delphine had time to speak, Darien dove right back in. "...she died, and that's a pain, a loss that I wouldn't wish upon my worst enemy. It breaks you, and if you were already broken, it shatters you. It shattered me." He finished, and then transfixed her with an intensity in his eyes that seemed somehow unhinged, when taken with the tone, watching for the understanding just beginning to dawn on her delicate features as to what he was telling her, and what it might mean for her.

"So really, I'm just saving you from the possibility of having to suffer that sort of pain yourself. It's a kindness." With that, he reached up and gently patted her cheek in the most patronizing manner, and put on a smile that for once, she knew was fake rather than had to guess as to the sincerity of. "So thank me, and smile. That's an order." He finished with very forced cheerfulness, and as if on cue, their food began to arrive, giving Delphine a relief from continuing the uncomfortable conversation if she so decided.

[brokecollege]

As soon as she mentioned true love, Darien's face fell and his eyes became distant. This, however, only lasted a moment before it was replaced with a much firmer expression. Then, in an even firmer voice, he informed Delphine that he was going to tell her something and that she was not allowed to speak about it to him, or anyone else. She agreed with a quiet nod of her head.

Once he had her agreement, Darien continued. He, like Delphine, had once been a naive and whimsical thing. He had even found what he believed to be true love. She was everything he had ever wanted. She was both the best, and the worst thing that ever happened to him. Before Delphine could ask why that was, Darien gave an answer: she died.

And the pain of losing her was the worst kind of pain he had ever experienced. It broke him. So, he concluded, if he was doing anything it was saving Delphine from that kind of pain. It was a kindness. He then reached forward and gave her a patronizing pat on the cheek. Thank me, he ordered, and smile. Delphine was able to force a smile onto her face, but she couldn't do the same with her words.

She hadn't a doubt that losing someone that close to your heart was painful, and she hadn't a doubt that losing them meant also losing a part of yourself. But, it is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all. If experiencing such pain meant that she could also experience such love, then she would do it in a heartbeat.

Delphine didn't tell him that, though. She just smiled and thanked the waiter as he set her food down in front of her.

[Damonique]

Delphine indeed put on a smile just as fake as his own at his request, but couldn't seem to accept that what he told her was true, that the soulmate she dreamed about wasn't work finding, that she was better off just playing the part with him instead, much less thank him for the privelidge. He let the lack of answer slide though, for now, only recognizing it with the barest suggestion of a frown for he was back to that feigned smile.

Their food was set before them, along with an assortment of utensils, and while they'd hardly been touched but for a nibble here or there, the tray of breads and cheeses was taken off and replaced with a fresh loaf of Foccacia di Recco, a flatbread baked with cheese and seasoned with butter and garlic, Delphine's salad was taken away and both their glasses replaced with new ones filled with a specially-chosen 'table wine' suited to pair well with their dish choices. Darien nodded respectfully to Amadeo, who had accompanied their food to the table and shared some pleasantries in rapid Italian while he waited, watching first Darien carefully divided his tender-looking, savory cutlet with his knife and fork and take a bite, and follow it with a sip of the wine provided, complimenting both. The chef then turned to watch Delphine, with some excitement to see how she reacted to her meal, not leaving until she had tasted everything and approved.

Which of course she did, regardless of what she thought of the food, Delphine wasn't one to insult anything a person had put so much work into. Darien spoke again only once he was finished with his first piece and had wiped his mouth with the provided cloth napkin in a gentler tone.

"Delicious, reminds me of childhood, and family. It's comforting. I do hope you enjoy it, Delphine, it took me half a year to convince Amadeo to immigrate and another half getting the resturant up to his standards. Worth it, though, in the long run. There's so little traditional Sicilian cooking on this side of the ocean." He stated calmly, without any sign of the previous intensity of his quiet 'outburst', making small talk that sounded only somewhat forced as his mind wandered elsewhere, into the past.

It was a shame so little of what Darien had to say was about anything but people who were dead now, but most people he had ever known well were no longer with them. Finding new topics of conversation as something he would need to do now that he had Delphine....she didn't want to know anything but the most superficial details of his work, and besides his work and his past, Darien had very little left in life worth mentioning.

[brokecollege]

Even though the conversation had passed, the tense air between them remained. Though, thankfully, it wasn't completely silent. Amadeo approached their table with a burst of Italian and made light conversation with Darien as their plates of food were exchanged for different plates of food. When the table was reset, the waiters scurried off. Amadeo, however, remained.

He turned to Delphine and, with excited eyes, waited for the young redhead to try everything on her plate. And she did. She took little bites of everything that was in front of her, and with each thing that she tried, she complimented the chef. When all had been tried, Amadeo finally left their table. Not that Delphine had wanted him to--his joyful presence with very much needed after her tense conversation with Darien.

Delphine nibbled here and there on her food, only pausing when Darien broke their somewhat awkward silence. And, unsurprisingly, he sounded as if their previous conversation hadn't happened. She forced a smile and nodded along with what he said. "It is all very delicious--" well, that was true. It was very delicious. But Delphine couldn't completely enjoy it with their conversation still ringing in her ears.

"Amadeo is a very talented cook. I feel like this is the first time I'm having Italian food," she added before taking another bite from her plate. If Darien could so easily drop a conversation and pretend it never happened, then Delphine should do the same. She had to remind herself that what was done, was done. She was to be in a fake relationship with Darien for her life, and that was all that there was to it. No point in getting upset about it or the details of it.

[Damonique]

Delphine was very good at playing her part, Darien noted, not for the first time. She said everything Amadeo wanted to hear, and when they were left alone, she took his cues to leave what was said before in the past...that was kind of her, though he got the feeling that it could be more out of self-concern than kindness....he supposed either would do.

They continued to eat their meals in a subdued semi-silence, broken up by only the safest and most idle of conversations, about the quality of the food, the weather, and their surroundings...Darien seemed to know the owner of every business lining the square, and the history of each and every building in this corner of the city, and told Delphine whatever she wanted to know.

For instance, the church, St. Emilia's Cathedral, actually predated nearly everything else that had sprung up around it,immigrants who hardly knew the language or culture flocking to the one place that reminded them of home. There was some darkness in that history as well that would resonate with the both of them, as well...the Italian and the Irish gangs had feuded bitterly in those early days, over what little money there was to be made in the slums. Stabbings and gunfights had been common here, earning the place the macabre nickname 'Murder Avenue'...a well-earned one, as the place couldn't go a week without blood being spilled on one side or the other until the late thirties when, clearly, the Italians had won out. It was in this story he found opportunity to tell Delphine something she'd need to know, once their relationship became public knowledge.

"There's still a bit of resentment from those days, I'm afraid. Dead fathers and brothers breed grudges that are hard to settle...you might hear of things, hurtful things being whispered about you, outside my hearing, all for such a simple thing as having red hair and a last name with an 'O' before it. Men like Amadeo, recent immigrants...their smiles are real. The same cannot be said of those who have been here longer. Ignore them if you can, tell me if you can't...I'll handle it." Darien explained in an even tone that did little to betray his disappointment at that...such resentment, the petty racism had been instrumental in ensuring that he and Delilah could never live they life they would have liked, and contributed to it's abrupt end, albeit indirectly. Darien's family wasn't the only one with secrets and skeletons buried in it's past...hers had as well, though he didn't know if Delphine had ever even known about that side of her girlhood friend's life...to Delilah McIntyre, Louise's Garden and the O'neill household had been an escape.

[brokecollege]

The two continued to eat their meals, with momentary pauses for idle conversation. When their plates were emptied and their stomachs full, Darien turned their conversation towards the history of his little neighborhood. According to him, the neighborhood was originally filled with a mixture of the Irish and Italians. But, feuds between the two groups eventually led to a neighborhood led entirely by the Italians.

Delphine nodded along with Darien's explanation, occasionally pausing to take a sip of her wine. Then, in a low voice, Darien explained that although the feuds were over, the resentment between the two groups remained. And because Delphine obviously hailed from Irish ancestors, she would more than likely be a target of the lingering hatred people felt towards. Delphine frowned but nodded her in understanding.

If, however, she could not handle what someone said, then all she needed to do was speak to him and he would handle it. She wondered how he would handle such a thing. He probably would have handled it in a way that Delphine would have argued against. The young redhead fiddled with her empty wine glass in quiet thought, before finally speaking. "I'm a strong girl. I have handled much worse than a few cruel words here and there. I think that I can handle them." she declared.

Though, only time would tell if that were true. And if she really couldn't handle all the things that they said about her, then she would find another way to handle them. But the last thing she would do was hand them off to Darien, whose cold words and often business-like manner would end up doing more harm than any good. "In any case, thank you for the delicious lunch. Amadeo has gained another admirer." she smiled.

[Damonique]

Darien raised an eyebrow when the girl across the table made her bold statement...of all the words he could use to describe her, strong was not near the top of the list, but it was true that Delphine had had her share of difficulties in life, her latest predicament just one in a long string of misfortunes. And so far, at least, she'd weathered each storm with surprising resilience, optimism still burning bright. There was something to be said for that, surely. But while he'd sheltered her from one such storm, it had only to set her right in the eye of his own...hopefully she'd weather it just as well.

Instead of responding immediately, he paused and considered her for a moment, head cocked to one side, blue eyes deep in thought as the regarded her own verdant greens. Normally, Darien found reading people, their fears, hopes, and desires, to be as easy as breathing, and Delphine herself usually wore her heart on her sleeve, but ever since he'd confirmed what she'd been told about his true nature...she was guarded, tense. Whatever she really thought about him now, she kept it well-hidden behind a mask of common courtesy.

Darien finished his meal, washed it down with the last of his wine, and carefully wiped his mouth with a napkin, and set it over the plate, raising a hand for the check, which he paid on card and tipped generously, though if he'd simply wanted to walk out without paying, noone would dare mind. But he paid his debts anyway...everyone had to pay their debts, one way or another. And on that thought, he finally found his tongue again.

"And there we are....I've finally wined and dined you like a proper gentleman should. Was that really such a difficult experience that I had to buy your shop in order to make you agree to it?" He only half-joked, trying to cut through the palpable tension. It didn't work, of course, because there was a rift between them widening by the second as explanations remained unsatisfactory and their terms remained ill-defined at best. That would have to rectified, but...somewhere more discreet.

"Speaking of buying things, how would you like to go shopping? Specifically, there's the matter of clothing...I'm sure by now you've realized your woefully under-dressed for this part of town." He continued amiably, waving one hand through the air to indicate the patrons dining around them, and the people making their way down the thoroughfare. With the exception of a few tourists dressed comfortably for vacation, it was a sea of men in sharp, well-fitted suits like his own, and women displaying ensembles that ranged from soft and elegant to downright provocative, but whatever they wore, it was clearly expensive.

"Personally, I couldn't give a damn what you wear, anythings fine as long as I can take it off you. But there are certain....standards expected me, and that extends to my accompaniment as well. And since it's only something you need because of me, I'll be paying. I actually have just the place in mind, just down the block.." He trailed off as they rose from their seats and readied to leave, taking Delphine's hand in his own as naturally as breathing, that she could hardly notice he was leading her until they were nearly outside The provocative twist at the start of the statement was buried in the rest of it, but showed a subtle reminder that their relationship was about more than just business or kindness.

[brokecollege]

Darien stared at Delphine in quiet contemplation before he pushed his plate away from him and called for the bill. With his food finished and the bill paid for, Darien turned towards Delphine and spoke. She knew that his words were meant to ease the tension that lingered between them, but they did nothing of the sort. If anything, it only made the tension more blindingly visible. Still, she forced a small smile onto her lips to make it seem as if it had worked.

There was a pause before Darien continued, this time to inform Delphine of just how underdressed she was. Well, he certainly wasn't wrong. Delphine's thrift shop ensemble was nothing compared to the dazzling and sophisticated outfits of those that surrounded them. But what could she do, other than admiring everyone else's outfit and hiding the embarrassment she felt for her own?

Delphine toyed with the end of her skirt as Darien carried on with the conversation, though she froze when he mentioned taking her clothes off. Her cheeks flushed a bright red in embarrassment, and she immediately turned her gaze away from him and towards her lap. She was hardly able to focus on whatever he said next, her mind too focused on what he had said and how he had said it.

Delphine wasn't dumb. She knew that their relationship would include things of a more physical nature. It was just... odd, and incredibly embarrassing to have Darien bring that knowledge into the world. The redhead chewed on the inside of her lip until, suddenly, Darien stood from his seat. She cleared her throat and stood as well, taking his standing as a sign that he was ready to leave.

Before Delphine could do anything else, Darien reached forward and grabbed her by the hand. He pulled the young redhead from the restaurant and into the afternoon sun, though Delphine could only relish its warmth for a minute before Darien was tugging her in the direction of where he wanted to go next. "So, uhm.." Delphine began in a somewhat desperate attempt to distract herself from the thoughts that clouded her mind. "Will I have to change my entire wardrobe?" she questioned.

[Damonique]

The sly comment he had slipped in had achieved the expected result, as Delphine immediately began to show her shyness again, cheeks flushing red as her eyes darted right down to her lap, hardly able to look him in the eye when he spoke of such things. It made him wonder just how much of an innocent she truly was...going in, he had hardly imagined she was a virgin. While he love life had been woefully sparse of late, owing to work, it hadn't always been so. She'd been through high school and a full semester of college, and she was very pretty. Surely there had been others before.

But if she truly had remained chaste, it raised to question of how she had allowed things to go so far already without a peep of complaint that hadn't been related to who he was and what he did. And there was the kiss to consider....Delphine had accepted that eagerly enough, and that was before there was such a sense of duty and debt to consider. That reaction, at least, had been genuine. Darien waved such thoughts out of his mind...answers would be forthcoming soon enough.

"If you'd like, yes, you could just replace it all with designer brands. But you don't have to, I just have a few items in mind that would be a must, suitable for public appearances...elegant faire to make you look at home in the most distinguished company. Learning the right attitude and manners will take time, but you already have the beauty to pull it off." He explained in answer to her inquiry, setting his mind to the task at hand. If she was going to be his companion, both public and private, she'd need to learn to look and act the part. Everyone he surrounded himself with added or detracted from Darien's reputation, and in his business, reputation and everything. It was all his family had started with when they'd come to this country, the wealth and power had come later.

He led her across the wide thoroughfare in front of the grand cathedral, the sunlight flowing through the stained glass throwing multicolored rainbows around and over them as they walked. It was a majestic sight of his own doing. They passed statues, fountains, and gardens lining the open spaces, and stopped now and again so Delphine could examine them more closely....of course, true to form, it was the gardens that caught her attention most, carefully arranged beds of flowers and bushes with as many colors as the rainbows that fell across them.

[brokecollege]

Darien informed Delphine that, if that was her wish, then she could most definitely change her entire wardrobe. He did not mind. But, that was not what Delphine wanted. Her wardrobe might not have been the most sought after wardrobe, but she loved it nonetheless. Each piece that she wore was something that she had found and paid for all one her own, and she took pride in that. Not only that, but each piece reflected a portion of her personality.

To change that did not feel right. But if Darien wanted her to wear the occasional fancy outfit, then she would do that. She owed it to him after all that he had done for her. The young redhead followed the man through the small neighborhood, taking in the sights and the beauty all the while. Occasionally she would spot a garden or a bundle of flowers and the pair would stop just so she could study them more but for the most part she admired the sights as they passed by them.

On top of studying the sights, she also studied the people that they passed. It was interesting to see their reactions to Darien's presence. The women reacted much like the flower girl that they had interacted with before their dinner--with reddened cheeks and fluttery eyes. The men reacted to him with slight bows of their heads or respectful waves and greetings. It was like everyone knew him, everyone respected him, everyone loved him.

She wondered if their reactions to him were all genuine, or out of fear. Perhaps they were out of a bit of both. Delphine glanced up at the taller man and studied him for a brief moment before her attention returned to the path in front of them.

[Damonique]

Their meandering walk down the piazza was a short but pleasant one...if it weren't for the difference he was shown by passers by, the looked nearly like a normal couple taking advantage of the cool, sunny autumn afternoon.

Eventually, they reached a row of modern storefronts of glass and chrome that stood apart from the brick and stone that defined the neighborhood. This area was newer, sleeker, and more modern, put in where the old architecture was too unstable to keep.

It was also where the most money congregated. While along the main thoroughfare all classes mingles, these high-class salons and boutiques outpriced the average customer. While there was an Armani storefront and a few other menswear outlets, much of the custom was from rich women in the latest fashions trailing put-upon husband's and boyfriends behind them.

"Ah, here we are..." Darien stated with a grin and a flourish once they reached the place he had been leading them, an impressive boutique with a name so long and in cursive so stylized it may as well have been illegible.

He led Delphine easily by the hand through a set of glass doors that slid open soundlessly to admit them into a word she'd likely never fathomed belonging to.