for Cesare

[benependente]

Family dinner. Family dinners were fine. Nothing wrong with a family dinner. It made his father happy to see the family together, so it was a fairly easy way to please him. Just sit down, smile, tell only the stories he wants to hear (or only the parts of stories apt for a family dinner table), and bite back any obvious derogatory remark towards brother dear.

So, he smiled and ate and spoke of sports and Lucrezia’s latest charity, and even cast his brother the occasional kind smile. It pleased his father. It annoyed his brother. Win, win.

His phone rang and he excused himself from the table after downing his coffee and taking the last bite out of his dessert. It was something his father usually abhorred, but he allowed it now, because he knew Juan had important business to attend to.

As a matter of fact, in this case, it was important business. 

He stepped out into the garden, sat down on a bench and put his phone on speaker.

Time dragged on as the problem was explained to him. He sat back and rubbed his face. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand it, it was just that he found it very annoying to be disturbed by it. Why the fuck did he have advisors when all they did was sit back and wait for him to come up with answers? “Look, just tell them we won’t buy unless they lower the price.”

The voice on the other end protested. “Yes, that’s what Tom said, but I don’t think-“

“It’s what I say,” Juan said, resolutely. He hated being asked, he hated even more being questioned.

"Yes, sir," the voice said and so the conversation ended. He trusted Tom as an advisor. His answer was good enough. No need to bother himself with it for too much longer.

Comments

[autcaesar_autnihil]

Cesare was a very fine actor. He'd honed his skills over a long lifetime under the tutelage of his father's ambition--and it had been difficult, for someone whose passions ran so deep and dark. At home, with his family, was the only place Cesare could allow himself the luxury of honesty.

Juan being around, however, meant that one outlet, that one comfortable place in the world, was suddenly less-than. Because he had to pretend not to want to punch away that smug little smile Juan had been sending his way all through dinner.

The sudden phone call had sent up red flags, though. There were several big deals on just then, and Juan would inevitably find a way to fuck them up, then blame it on someone else--or so Cesare always assumed. It was safer that way, when doing clean-up.

He knocked back the last of his coffee-and-whiskey before following his brother out into the garden, strolling with all his usual big-cat languor, but wound tight as could be inside. "Trouble in paradise?" he asked, voice far too casual to actually be casual.

[benependente]

In this case, if things did go balls up, Juan could always blame Tom. Trusted advisor and - as all his advisors were - scapegoat when he needed one.

He wasn't surprirsed to hear his brother's voice. He always did like interfering in things that weren't his business. And this very clearly wasn't his business. It was Juan's. And Cesare was endlessly jealous about taht.

"It's business, brother," he retorted, visibly and audibly annoyed. "There's always something."

[autcaesar_autnihil]

"So it would seem," Cesare said, all smirk and looking down his nose as he came to stand before Juan. "Nothing you can't handle, though, I'm sure." His voice rose up at the end, almost making it a question, though it clearly wasn't. He knew Juan couldn't handle a damned thing.

[benependente]

"Nothing I can't handle." Resolute, dry, annoyed and no question mark at the end. He did hate it when his brother doubted him. He was entrusted with the Borgia estate empire, he would handle it.

"How's parliament?" He asked, putting the curious dog back into his basket.

[autcaesar_autnihil]

"Never-ending laugh parade, as usual," Cesare said, equally dry, the look he cast down at his elder brother all open disbelief. The day Juan could handle wiping his own arse, let alone cleaning up his other messes, Cesare might believe he could handle the business. But hell would freeze over, before then. "Your speedy attempt to change the subject doesn't put my fears to rest, brother."

[benependente]

"Well..." Juan started, calmly. "You take those fears and shove them up your arse, where your head is. If I had wanted your advice, I would have employed you. But sadly, I can't, since that would lead to a conflict of interests and you can't afford scandal of fraud of any kind."

[autcaesar_autnihil]

Cesare attempted to repress his actually annoyed response, but knew too well that it showed in the flashing of his eyes, the unpleasant bend of his lips. "I wish you'd remember that next time you orchestrate one of your massive cock-ups, dear brother. Cleaning up after you is bound to prove the scandal that undoes me before long."

Not that he'd mind being undone especially... by anything but Juan. And Juan knew it, damn it.

[benependente]

"Just piss off back to your back-bench," Juan spat and stood up. "Where you belong. Dear brother." He had Tom to blame, and a dozen other advisors. He did not need his brother to do anything.

[autcaesar_autnihil]

For the moment, Cesare maintained his usual cool. "My, my. Sensitive this evening, aren't we."

[benependente]

"I can handle it," Juan said, expressively.

2014-12-31 1:51 GMT+01:00 autcaesar_autnihil - DW Comment < dw_null@dreamwidth.org>:

[autcaesar_autnihil]

"Forgive my skepticism brother, but last time I heard of you handling anything--the last few times--it left much to be desired. Nothing like a little brotherly helping hand there to clean up your messes, is there?"

[benependente]

"Piss off and piss of now," Juan nearly growled as he narrowed his eyes. "Before I do something I may later regret. But not a lot."

[autcaesar_autnihil]

"Mmm, you will most certainly regret--whatever it is, next time you need me." Cesare smirked and turned to walk away. His heart was beating loud in his ears, but his blood felt cold. Very, very cold.