So, after a bit of writing, here we are. A holiday parade in five chapters, some short, some long. The other chapters just have some brushing up to do, so I hope to have them all out within a week. Some boring business deals, mistletoe moments, lemonade, presents, and war in the next chapters to come. Because, you know, happy holidays. :)
After a bit of convincing, Alaric finally agreed to allow the masses to hold the gathering at his house.
He was a staunch businessman, raised with a silver spoon that people often despised since his privileges could hardly fit and be named in long lists and company papers that were neatly organized on his desk. No one saw his office, though, and his business affairs stayed in there to be left in private. There was a bit of unease between his family, who were relying on the gathering- they wouldn't dare say party- to find other business owners and company advisors to create diplomatic relations with. A few especially important people had RSVPed for their arrival and it was important that Alaric, the more sociable adept one between him and his cousin, could establish a few more relations.
It was pertinent, he supposed, to make his manor look welcoming for the occasion. As a child, he had never celebrated Christmas- although a few times he had been given a gift or two from his mother- and found the idea of celebration to be complex. A few invitations had been sent out to a few rich adversaries, hoping for a good conversation, and he let his maids handle the rest.
Mason, his more unsociable cousin that had taken over a part of the company in exchange for a part in Alaric's father's will, kept to himself and his own business. A gathering of loud, extravagant people failed to impress him.
Percy had been the first to arrive, along with a few other eligible bachelors that hadn't had much time for a private life for business had become all of their life. They spoke freely among each other of company problems and tax affairs and Lev, a young assistant that had come in place of the director of the company he worked for, stood quietly.
"Ay, bless the holidays, did you hear we're planning to expand to Russia?" One of the new arrivals said, joined at the hip with his twin. Percy glanced from brother to brother before deciding to address them as a whole, finding them too difficult to tell apart.
"I had to settle a deal with a representative from Russia yesterday," Percy replied easily, looking a little embarrassed at the formality of it all. He looked over at Alaric's manor, which stood dauntingly on a hillside a long ways up a stone path. "We're aiming for China, next...Since medicine is such a prominent thing there. I swear, everyone is a doctor. We've already sent out letters. What is it you two run again?"
"Ah, don't tell us you haven't seen our channel…" It was the other twin that spoke that time, looking over at Percy with a hint of amusement. "We dabble in news. Own a whole lot of reporters. We're ranked number two for most unbiased in the nation, isn't that impressive? Although, we have always been a little liberal ourselves. It was probably the last political news story we covered that didn't make us eligible for number one most unbiased."
"I see," Percy said and smiled, reaching up to adjust his tie before glancing over at Lev, whom looked a little out of place in his youth. "You're the assistant for that new tech company, right? Filmzon, or...I forget the name."
"The director couldn't make it," Lev clarified and he raised his chin as if he could sense the questions that radiated from the twins, fighting to prove his maturity even when they had none.
Percy opened his mouth to speak when another car rolled into the expansive driveway, the headlights blinding him for a moment and leaving small white flecks drifting around in his vision. The twins seemed to have little interest, chatting away to themselves about private matters that seemed to amuse them. A girl with expensive sunglasses fixed her hair in the passenger side, a valet driver seated next to her silently. The girl turned around, gave a smile brighter than the headlights of the car, and spoke to someone in the backseat, a few bracelets sliding around on her wrist before they rested against the edge of her glove. The door opened and the girl stepped out, her fingers grasping at the edge of her dress as she started to stand, giving a smile at the boys and Percy instantly recognized her coyness.
"Hello, Savannah," Percy said calmly and Savannah eyed him slyly from behind her sunglasses, a mink scarf thrown over her shoulders. She smoothed down the front of her dress, which clung to her frame in a shimmering silver material that vaguely reminded him of some of the chemicals he worked with. She was dangerous and charming and he was well equipped against her flirtatious ways. She extended a hand to the back door but it opened quickly before she had the chance to let the person in the backseat out. A girl pushed her way out, her red hair pulled back into a tight bun. An unruly curl fell from it, though, and she reached back to push it from her face before putting a hand in the pocket of her pantsuit.
"This is Layla," Savannah introduced and Percy gave a bit of a laugh at Layla's expression.
"I'm Percy," he introduced, giving her a bit of a mile, "You look excited to be here."
"This woman here was trying to stick me in this god-awful dress with all these red and white sequins on it," Layla said, walking over to join them, "I swear-…This is why I don't go to Christmas parties. They're just tacky. How long have you guys been here?"
"Ten minutes," the twins answered this time in unison, fixing each other's ties, "Shall we go up to the house?"
"Yes, we should, shouldn't we?" Savannah gave them all another glittering smile, brushing past them to start up to the house. Percy watched after her, wondering how she could walk in such a dress and shoes.
Kellan sat in the driver's seat of his car, tying his tie carefully and tightening it so it rested in the collar of his shirt. Opening a small compartment in the car, he pulled out a container of gel, dipping his finger into it and smoothing it into his hair. Nervousness pulled at his thoughts a bit, feeling intimidated by the party. To his current knowledge, there were supposed to be many people that had been in the business area for much longer than he had and his own income was meager compared to the others. After all, unlike most, he had worked for his current fortune, which was just enough to pull himself out of his parent's debt and give him a steady life on his own. Smoothing his hair back, he wiped his hands on a napkin and put it in the cup-holder before setting the gel container back in the compartment. Slowly, he got out of the car, taking in a slow breath to calm his nerves.
He was never one to be shy or introverted but his relations depended on good first impressions. So, he looked at himself in the reflection of his car window, fixing his hair again.
It was a long walk up to the manor but he found that he wasn't in much of a hurry. Already, he was a few minutes late so he was sure people wouldn't notice his arrival. Besides, the walk gave him time to think over what type of people he wanted to make ties with. Alaric, he knew, would be nearly impossible to speak with. Not only was he the most famous out of all the other people there, but he would only aim for big name business owners with companies to sell. Kellan, although promising, was hardly someone to fight over if they only looked at him with a first glance.
Rich people like Alaric, he had assumed, didn't celebrate something so trivial as Christmas…or any holidays. However, he guessed, it was a good selling point.
Rosebushes grew across the path as if to frame it, neatly cleaned up like the rest of the path. The house was brightly lit in the distance and he headed towards it carefully, calmly, a stray cat padding across the grass. It didn't take him too long to finally get to the door and he produced the invitation carefully from the inside of his suit when he eyed a bodyguard next to the door. Even the invitation felt expensive. The paper was rough against his skin but sturdier than cardstock and it was edged with a metallic gold, carefully calligraphy explaining the details on the front. From interviews, Kellan never regarded Alaric to be one for looks or aesthete, but he supposed it was all for a good image.
Upon arrival at the door, the bodyguard took one look at the invitation before reaching to let him, clicking the door open to reveal the inner extravagance of the manor. The main room was large- larger than Kellan ever imagined and the ceiling stretched tall like a ballroom. Marble stairs curved around the edge of the room where they led to the second floor and Kellan looked around to admire it.
A phonograph in the corner played a sweet, sweet melody of classical music, the small particles of dust getting caught under the needle where it popped and crackled quietly. People in their best attire spoke together in loose groups, a few holding glasses of red wine that stained the inside of their lips. The door fell shut behind him and Kellan stepped forward to survey the room, his mouth slightly ajar in fascination. It was a whole new world, really, and he had never been so abruptly acquainted with the lifestyle of the rich. A table was set up at the side of the room with cheese platters and imported silverware from China, their handles engraved with delicate hanzi.
A waiter with a tray of wine passed by him, offering him a glass. His blonde hair was pushed back and he looked a little uncomfortable, as if he wasn't used to such clothes and formality, but kept an air of awkward politeness around him.
"Would you like a glass?" he asked cheerfully, extending the tray.
"I would, thank you," Kellan said and gave a reassuring smile as he reached to take one by the stem, "Say, Mr..." He paused, searching for a nametag. "Christianson. When will Alaric make an appearance?"
With a shrug, the waiter looked at him apologetically. "I don't know exactly...but I think later tonight." And with that, he started off, not wanting to linger if others were waiting for him.
Brushing blonde hair behind her ear, Steff kept to herself near the mouth of the library, observing the gathering of people from a distance. She had always made sure to dress respectively since her parents had instilled good values of modesty in her. Raising a hand to fix the strap of her black, tea-length dress, she pulled her coat around her, taking a few steps inside the library. She had always been told to not wander, but no one seemed to notice her and books were her vice. A fluffy, gray cat brushed up against her leg and she jumped back, letting out a small gasp of surprise before laughing lightly. Kneeling, she ran a hand over its fur for a quick moment before reaching for its collar so she could see the tag. The thin silver band donned a red and green bow and Steff looked at it in festive amusement.
"Church," she said and gave a small smile, "What a funny name for a cat."
The cat, unimpressed, sat down languidly, scratching its collar with its back leg. Then, as if seeing something particularly interested in the distance, it darted off, the bell jingling as it padded around the hall. Turning her attention back to the shelves, she looked at the books, which were hidden behind glass and small silver locks. Her late brother had never liked books and, despite her attempts to change his mind, he refused to allow her to indulge in such commodities. It wasn't like she could say anything, with his standing of social power, but his grasp on her was gone so suddenly after...the accident that she almost didn't know what to do with herself.
"Stephanie Tide, right?" a voice said, standing in the doorway of the library. Surprised and embarrassed to be caught, Steff turned quickly, her hand instantly moving up to her hair as if it would comfort her.
"Yes," she said carefully, "Who's asking?"
"I wanted to give my condolences," the person in the doorway said, his eyes calm and apologetic, "About your brother. It was on the news."
"That's what happens when you grow up in a family such as mine. I wish it was different," Steff relied shyly, disliking it when people brought up her brother. She had never liked him, but her timidness never allowed her to say so. "I'm afraid I don't think we've met."
"I wouldn't have thought so," he said, adjusting his gloves and his stare made her feel uneasy, "Everyone knows me as Des. I'm afraid I can't give out my real name. It would be quite an obstruction of privacy to me and my work." He turned towards the bookshelves and gave a short whistle. "I didn't mean to sneak up on you like that or intrude on your personal business, but if I might say so, you're much younger than I am. And you can definitely change what you've been given. Many people would kill for the royal life."
"I wouldn't say 'royal', but my parents are quite famous." Blushing, she turned her attention to the books as well. "Surely you cannot be much older than I am. You don't look it."
At her words, Des laughed, his gaze unwavering. There was something odd about him, like he was a programmed animatronic that feigned empathy but she shut out those thoughts in sheepishness since all business people seemed to be like that. After all, in a time for festivities, it was hardly the moment to think such...insensitive things.
"I will be thirty in two years," he said, still looking entertained at her observation, "So I'm I am at least ten years your senior."
"Nine, actually," Steff corrected, looking a little astonished at his age, "Well, you don't look almost thirty."
"Ah, but they say age comes with wisdom." Looking back, Des seemed to smile at something that caught his attention. "Well, I best be off. I have a few things I wish to discuss. Merry Christmas. Or happy holidays in general, if you do not celebrate that." And, without another moment to pause, he headed off, leaving her alone in the library.
The twins made themselves at home, seated on a sofa by the fireplace where others gathered in armchairs or stood nearby to hear their rambles. Connor, the older of the two, held both of their wine glasses while his brother, Cadyn, reminisced merrily of how they first started their company, of sorts. Pride fueled their conversations and they were quick witted both in real life and on-air, oftentimes resorted to comedic improvisation when they forgot their lines. They leaned against each other as they spoke, whispering sly comments while the others laughed in great mirth. Perhaps they only spoke to amuse one another, for other company was hardly a care of theirs.
They had never been so accustomed to classic music and fancy wine glasses and girls in long dresses with fur coats and men in custom suits and waistcoats. But there they were, sitting in a multimillionaire's- or perhaps billionaire's- house, joking away about the news and the types of satire they adored.
"And then," Cadyn started, raising his hand to instinctively push a strand of dark reddish brown hair from his eyes. There was no hair out of place, though, and the gesture was just one of familiarity since Connor had convinced him that they would look professional if they actually gelled their hair back once in a while.
"-He completely forgot the guy's name," Connor interrupted, remembering the story his brother was starting to tell, "And before we know it, the guy...The exact sponsor we need-"
"-Is raging about how we don't know what we're talking about since we're too young-"
"-And we have paid him no attention-"
"-All the while," Cadyn laughed, "We are looking his background up and he's criticizing us for being lousy when he has filed for bankrupt three times. So we listened and then-"
"-Sent him on his way," Connor finished, taking a sip from his wine, "It was awfully amusing."
"You two boys are always causing trouble." It was Savannah that spoke that time, her voice sweet and smart and alluring behind a glass that sat against her lips. "Maybe come apply for a job under me sometime and I'll put you to real work." Her brown hair framed her face perfectly, her blue eyes keen as they narrowed in on the two. She was...pretty, to say the least, but the twins were the last to take the bait.
"Hah, no thanks, Savannah," Cadyn said, waving her suggestion off, "We're plenty successful on our own."
"Maybe," Connor paused for effect, "You could come work with us after you actually gain popularity."
"Oh, I assure you," Savannah smiled, unfazed, "I'm plenty popular."
Gwen, a budding director of a jewelry company, stood beside her, glad to survey the easy environment that had been presented to her. Walking in, it seemed as if everyone would be stern and formal, but they certainly enjoyed a good laugh and she was quick to join in.
She stood out a little bit from the crowd, her bright hair- green at the moment- styled in an endearing pixie cut that matched her spirited face and pleasant features. Her outfit was not so formal as it was fancy, yet homely, and she liked it that way; if she looked put together and straight-cut, then it really wouldn't be a representation of her company and its style. Not a true representation, anyway.
Scanning the people, she left the group by the fireplace to follow another girl that had been looking at the tables of appetizers. The girl was quiet and her dress was a little old fashioned but beautiful nonetheless. The salesman than never left Gwen's thoughts put a price on the dress and she wondered for a moment how rich the girl must be if she could afford such a thing. Royal blue in that shade and fabric was hard to come by, and such a style from no other place than Paris was sure to be a pain to her wallet. The girl turned to look at her for a moment in curiosity and Gwen found that the pictures of her in the magazines did her no justice.
"Anastasia, right?" Gwen greeted and the girl smiled back and nodded, "Hey, probably haven't heard of me. I'm pretty popular in the Philippines and Haiti right now, though."
"Yes, I've gotten fashion magazines from there," Anastasia responded, her accent thick and smooth; she looked slightly embarrassed of that fact, "You are the jewelry designer."
"Yes, yes! That's me!" With a bit of an excited look that someone had recognized her work, Gwen straightened her necklace in thought. "I've heard your studio gets everything custom made. The ballet outfits, I mean."
"They're very pretty, aren't they?" The girl hid a bit of delight; she had designed those outfits herself.
"For sure," Gwen nodded, "But I've been hearing that you needed someone to make accessories and, I know, you're probably looking at me wondering how I'd make something classy enough for your studio, but I assure you, we'd make great business partners." Reaching into a pocket in her dress, she pulled out a business card. "Check out my winter line. It's all diamonds and sapphires. They really are the prettiest things."
Taking the business card from her, Anastasia read it quickly before tucking it into her clutch. "I'll contact you, then. I do think my mother will appreciate it if I find good connections."
The buzz of the room had increased, people chattering away and wishing happy holidays in such an unorthodox party for something as simple as 'Christmas'. By then, the crowd in the large room had grown, not to an uncomfortable amount, but to an extent where there were many conversations going on at once and it was impossible to capture everything. A few waiters and maids hurried about to fix up the appetizer area and to refill drinks but, for the most part, they endeavored to stay out of the way of the people.
Cold air gusted into the room and a well dressed man stepped inside, his eyes skimming over the people like he was reading cards. He had dark grey hair, dyed, of course, because his natural brown roots were showing a little. His eyes were sharp and intelligent, like a cat, and his tux was a deep red, like wine. Perhaps the most surprising thing about him, though, was his company. On either side, there was a person that perhaps resembled a waiter of some sort and they both looked to be a little bit younger than the man in the middle.
As they walked in, they turned heads with their eccentric looks and the two escorts laughed along with his words, their gestures precise and carefully flirtatious towards him.
"That's Nyx," Savannah said in slight disgust, her eyes then going to his escorts, "But I heard they're paid good money to follow him around like that. He's super famous in Las Vegas, or something."
"Yeah," the twins nodded, "He owns a casino. He's a famous gambler too. We've covered him on our news."
One of Nyx's escorts pulled away from him at one of his orders, heading over to retrieve a glass of wine. He was odd looking, with one blue eye and one purple- a contact lens, everyone supposed. There was a twin purple streak in his hair and he was wearing a smart looking suit with a deep violet tie, drawing the attention of a few other people.
"Finn," Nyx called, his tone bored yet strict, his gaze fastening on the escort, "Hurry up, won't you? We don't have all day."
The other escort gave Finn a look of urgency, his green eyes bright with intelligence that instantly dissipated once Nyx started to speak to him. He giggled, black hair falling into his eyes messily, and he gave a charming smile and laid a hand on Nyx's arm to compliment him breezily. When Finn rejoined them both with the wine glass, he handed it over, careful to not spill with a certain amount of precision that made it obvious how short he had been working as such a role. When someone caught his attention, Nyx waved off Finn and the other escort, walking over to the twins and his group to vie for more screen time on their news channel.
"Aspen," Finn said, turning to the other escort, "Where do we go? You've been working this longer than I have."
"Oh, just come off to the side," Aspen responded and smirked, grabbing Finn's sleeve to pull him to the wall to stand, "He'll be angry if we linger. Just stand and look pleasant. It's a chore to be bad looking, which is gladly something I'm not."
"How arrogant," Finn teased back, leaning back against the wall to survey the room, "Who has the money to afford this kind of thing? It's so unnecessarily extravagant. All for Christmas, too? I've heard that the host...Alaric doesn't even celebrate it but is just using it to gather people to make money. Is that true?"
"Probably." Leaning a bit closer to him so they didn't have to speak as loud, Aspen raised his eyebrows. "But then again, that's rather smart, isn't it? At least it's not all cheesy. If I was rich, I'd request an invitation to this party too."
Fixing his tie, Alaric stared at the mirror with a calculated expression, careful to get his tie straight. Unkempt appearances were always bad impressions. Mason stood gloomily in the doorway of his room, looking unimpressed as he surveyed him from the quiet shadows. Alaric reached for his watch and a small envelope that held a patent, slipping it into the inside pocket of his blazer.
"You know you must make some connections tonight," Mason said, having always been the more ambitious of the two, "We're not a vertical establishment."
"We're not a horizontal one, either. I like to think we're a mix," Alaric answered, turning to face him, fastening his watch around his wrist, "If you're so concerned, won't you join us downstairs?"
"I'm not one for petty parties. I prefer to stay here and do real work." With a sniff, Mason raised his chin, a demeaning tone lacing his words. "I haven't the time to socialize."
"We both know it's a lot more than socializing. If we don't break even by the end of the year, we'll have to sell some companies and the infrastructure of our...monopoly could crumble," Alaric reasoned and the walls of the house closed in a bit and he straightened his posture, "I won't have us looking weak anymore. We're not a weak family."
"Surely we can use our savings to revitalize the companies," Mason interjected before he could walk out, annoyed at his cousin's lack of understanding, "That would be best."
"I think family before the company. We can't bet everything. That would be rash, Mason, you know that." Slipping on a pair of white gloves, he brushed off his suit. "Now, if you'll excuse me." Sparing Mason one last glance, Alaric started through the door, not very eager to have to confront many people at the party and work out tedious contracts. However, it was what he knew, having grown up on copyrights and paperwork and long lists of economic enemies, and he was sure that he would not let his parents down.
Kellan had decided to join the main group of people that gathered around the fireplace, finding that they weren't as terrible as they had been rumoured to be. Another attendant, whom he recalled was named Percy, spoke about intriguing things and he was quick to pay close attention. Some others gathered about too to hear about his medicinal discoveries and he soon learned that they were all rather rich and had obtained a large amount of power through inherited status. It was then, Kellan realized, that he had something the others did not, which was the will to struggle above his born plot on the social ladder. Unlike him, they had never fought for their place and had grown up with their priorities set.
"You look like you're thinking too deep for a party like this," a voice came behind him called, dark and private. Kellan looked back, immediately extending a hand to greet him.
"How do you do?" he said politely, scanning the person, "I'm Kellan."
"Nyx," the other person smiled, taking his hand for a long moment, leaning forward to whisper, "I wouldn't listen to what they tell you. They really are the wrong sort, the lot of them."
Smartly, Kellan's eyes creased as he squinted at him in thought, drawing his hand away. "I think I can trust my own judgement, thank you."
"Ah, whatever suits you," Nyx shrugged, taking a sip of his wine, "Mighty fine coming to a place like this. Nice servants, too."
Kellan glanced over at the two odd looking boys that still chattered by the wall, his interest soon turning into concern. Who would want to live their life as some servant? Instinctively, he looked at the servant that had first offered him wine and his worry dissipated. It was the same, really, and he was sure they made good money. He couldn't imagine someone being as rude to not pay them well, anyway. He, himself, had always made sure to accommodate for his worker's needs.
"Are you doing anything for the holidays?"
Looking back at Nyx with a careful stare, he held his gaze. "I might travel to see my family."
"Ah, I see. Mine died years ago," Nyx said and smiled wide, "About time, really."
About to answer, Kellan grew quiet as the rest of the people grew silent, turning to face footsteps that echoed through the large room. The record had also ceased to play, leaving a solitary note hanging in the air like the smell of perfume. A few people beside him shifted to walk towards the front of the crowd; he recognized the twins and that one girl, Layla, as they slipped between people for the best spot. Spotting why everyone had moved to a standstill, Kellan made sure to keep his posture modest and his expression one of respect.
Mason watched from the doorway as Alaric addressed the crowd with some sort of regal nature that made him laugh. His cousin, while smart, was anything but a party host and it offered him some amusement on such a drab night. They both shared a distaste for unnecessary chatter and impulse, but Alaric, surprisingly, had been the one to suggest a gathering during the holidays. Mason detested Christmas. He didn't have much of anyone to celebrate it with anyway, so it was rendered, in his mind, dreadfully obsolete and a mere waste of materials.
Alaric, he observed, was careful to keep a friendly tone, chatting with people once he was done talking. The servants would hate having to take down all the decor, but Mason didn't care about them anyway. For God's sake, they were being paid to work. He didn't understand why people would try to be more hospitable than that.
Feeling no need to join in, Mason leaned against the doorway to look at them from the second floor, catching a glimpse of some girl with bright red hair speaking with Alaric before moving to sign a patent. If they could extend their business to a few more directors of separate companies, he knew they were sure to keep their place as the top supplier in the nation. Running a corporation had never been easy, but neither was life, so they matched well.
His eyes were drawn up the faint outline of a girl and his gaze hardened, recognizing Savannah. She was pretty, and she had always been like that, but he hardly noticed and turned away immediately to go walk back to his office, not wanting to deal with her and her antics.
"Mason, right?"
In annoyance, Mason turned to where the voice had come from, eyeing someone that was standing by the stairs.
"You're not allowed up here," he responded curtly, disinterested in the person's name, "Or I'll have to call security."
"I've only come in curiosity," Des answered, looking pleased, "I think your cousin is a very good speaker; very intelligent and good with his rhetoric. That's definitely different than what I heard about him."
Mason was careful to not show his curiosity, but he was good with facades, giving Des a courteous and careful look instead. A good businessman always knew had to fake a customer. A better businessman knew how to fake himself. Taking a step towards Des, he straightened his tie.
"You're interested now, aren't you?" Des inquired.
"If it involves Alaric or me, then yes, I am."
"Well, word was that there was some terrible corruption and financial issues in your...corporation. Of course, it was just a rumour."
"Who started it?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?"
In frustration, Mason ground his teeth, cautious to not show it on the outside. "Naturally."
"Ah, well it was on some news channel," Des responded, starting back down the stairs, "Owned by some brothers, apparently. Nice place to brew some gossip. Anyway, Happy Christmas. You might as well enjoy the rest of your holidays."
Shaking hands with the twins, Alaric handed them a few files and forms.
"It'll be a pleasure working with you two," he said smoothly, "But I do warn that I'm strict on how I like things to be run. I don't want any lies being tossed about the establishment. I want an honest news channel, and my corp will pay you twice as much as your current income if your station actively promotes our business."
"Of course, definitely," Cadyn grinned, brushing a bit of dust off his brother's suit, "We'll mail these to your main office."
"Yes, and we will make sure to make our news stories very honest," Connor smiled back, "Very honest, I'm sure."
Hooking their arms together, the twins snickered to each other as they started away to the front door, their hands clutching the precious papers that they had been handed. A gust of freezing air met them as they pushed through the heavy door and a bit of snow crunched under their feet, snowflakes twirling in the air as they fell. A few landed in their hair as they started back down the path and they giggled to themselves.
"Is it out of batteries?" Pulling an audio recorder out of his brother's pocket, Connor's eyes gleamed slyly. "This is going to make a great story. Imagine the headline-"
"'Rich Adversaries Meet Their Economic Demise'. Sounds good?"
"Hmm." Connor thought for a moment. "How about 'Sharpblade Businessmen Host Party in a Desperate Attempt to Save Falling Stocks'?"
"'Rich and Royalty Attend Businessman Holiday Party to be Used for Company Relations'?"
"'The One Percent Fails to Represent at Holiday Party'?"
Cadyn smiled. "How about 'Sharpblade Cousins Cut Their Luck on the Edge of their Own Double Edged Sword: Holiday Edition'?"
"Oh, yes. Alluring, interesting, and an exotic sounding news story," Connor said enthusiastically, tucking the audio recorder back into his pocket. The wind picked up around them and they stuck close to one another, humming Christmas songs underneath their breath. Snow dusted their suits white and they laughed their way back to the limo that had been waiting to pick them up.
"Ah, the snow," Cadyn held out his hands, the papers slightly wet from the ice, "Merry Christmas, dear brother. Let it snow on this fine night."
"Let it snow." Smirking, Connor nodded. "Let it snow, indeed."