Luca POV, Thursday Morning
"Do I actually have to dress up for this shit?" I complain to my sister, Isabella while on the phone with her.
"Yes, Luca! It's for Halloween! Oh my gosh I cannot believe you haven't picked out a costume yet!" She shrieks.
I roll my eyes even though she can't see me. "My costume design hasn't exactly been at the top of my list of priorities recently." I deadpan in an obvious tone.
"If you weren't my brother I would definitely take the money." She jokes.
My sister, Isabella, is the world's best assassin. However, no one knows that she is "kere", her assasin alias, named after Greek death-spirits. Obviously, she was trained with the best in the world, but she's gained her reputation all on her own. She has never missed a kill, except when she's gotten jobs on our family. People believe she's allianced with us, but not that she's literally part of our bloodline.
I get to see her very rarely, as she's always traveling for hits. Absolutely no one outside of the Laurent family and our inner circle know of her other life. Only very skilled mafia know how to get ahold of her, seeing as she's extremely secretive and doesn't allow herself to trust anyone.
Despite her ruthless and serious aura, she still gets excited at smaller things. She almost had a fucking panic attack when I told her I was going to work with the Kings. She's only a year or two younger than Ivy, but absolutely idolizes the shit out of her. I believe she has stated multiple times that she would choose a meeting with Ivy over the lives of all her family members. I would say she's joking but with Isabella, she's probably not. I believe her exact words were "I swear to God if you fuck with her she'll put you in a casket and I won't even shed a tear."
She's currently harassing me about the fact that I have yet to choose an outfit for tomorrow night's gala.
"What's Ivy going as?" She hums. Isabella has been very bemused by the idea of me and Ivy ever since I arrived here months ago.
"Why the fuck would I know?" I question rhetorically.
She seems to ponder, no doubt a mischievous plan forming in her head. "Go ask her!" She encourages suddenly.
Uh.
"I don't know where the fuck she is." I retort.
"Go find her!" She pushes.
I don't think she's gonna give up.
"Ugh. Fine. I'll try." I give in. Isabella is the only one who can speak to me like this. I hear her mumble a few things over the line. I make out a few phrases. "Oh my fucking God I'm meeting Ivy King." Is the general jist of it.
I reluctantly walk out of my closet, in some simple grey slacks and a white t-shirt. I just took a shower after my workout, leaving my hair to drip a little on my shoulders. I brush a hand through my hair in an attempt to straighten it out, although it doesn't really work as the floppy strands just fall back onto my face. I walk out of my room and onto the soft white carpeting, and down the dark wooden steps. My feet pad against them lightly, and my presence wouldn't have been noticeable if it weren't for Isabella's excited squealing from the phone in my open palm.
I walk to the left into a hallway that leads to the kitchen, where Ivy is normally eating breakfast in the morning.
Sure enough, when I step into the large, white marble kitchen, Ivy is poised cross-legged on one of the leather stools, one arm propped on the counter. She's using her other hand to hold a spoon that's scooping some sort of oatmeal out. She looks almost bored and from the looks of it she hasn't noticed me yet, nor Izzy's now muffled nervous clamor. This allows me to really take her in. Her hair is messily thrown in a bun at the top of her head, showing me she just woke up. She has a pair of loose black shorts that reach her upper thigh and a spaghetti strap red tank top, that brings out the slight flush to her cheecks and the pink in her lips.
