The sound of the door clicking shut behind the father and son duo echoed around the seemingly empty house. George frowned, he hadn’t expected the house to be so quiet.

The Casino had been rather uneventful after the conversation at the bar. They had kept their distance away from the family to not draw suspicion to themselves, even though a few times Roxas had tried to converse with the young blonde George was able to easily shut it down and pull him away. He was young, still training but if he wasn’t careful they would quickly go from just a normal family to something more suspicious. And that was the reason George had decided to only discuss the plan in more depth once they were in the safety of their home. Slowly the elder male made his way through the living area and into the conservatory, pulling off his tie and throwing it down onto the dining table in the middle of the room. He dragged the seat closest to him out from under the table by his foot, the wood dragging against the laminate before finally taking a seat, letting his head roll back to look at the ceiling. The silence was growing thick and he knew soon his son would start speaking. He was excited, gagging for the details much as he used to when he was younger.

“...”

“Are we really going to kill him?” Roxas finally spoke up, his voice breaking what he would describe as agonising tension. “The boyfriend, I mean.”

“I’m not going to do anything…” George replied, his voice calm and quiet like always. The raspiness of his throat emphasizing the word anything . He waited for Roxas’ reply, rolling his head against his shoulders so he could look at the man. He seemed shocked at George’s words, now deep in thought to try and understand exactly what he meant.

“You’ve always wanted to do something like this independently, haven’t you? To prove yourself?” He pointed out, gesturing towards the younger man with one hand. “Well, this is your chance.”

“Really?” Roxas asked

“Yeah.”

Roxas fell silent for a few moments, lingering on his father’s words before finally speaking up again.

“Why are you encouraging this? You’re the one who usually insists we have to try and blend in so we don’t get caught.”

A small smirk crawled onto George’s lip, a low rumbling chuckle slipping from the smirk. “Because I have a plan.” He started, leaning forward in his chair while he spoke and resting his elbows on the table in front of him, he gestured to the seat on the opposite side of the table. Waiting for Roxas to sit down before he carried on. “And your little crush on that Versity girl is going to help me.”

“Help?” Roxas mused. “How exactly?”

“You know, that’s what I’ve always liked about you, son.” The elder male leaned back in his chair once again, his right arm draped over the back of the seat while his left arm stayed resting on the table. “You’re not afraid to ask questions. Always eager to learn more.” He paused, tapping his fingers against the table’s wood for a few seconds. “It’s simple, you take out that little boyfriend of hers. We enrol you into her college, little late for enrolments but that’s okay nothing a little money won't fix. You get to know her, make her fall for that infamous Winters charm that I gave you. You get what you want, I get closer to what I want.”

“And what is it that you want?”

“Power, my dear boy. Power. And that little James Versity will give us all we’ve ever dreamed of. Money, power beyond our dreams. I think with a little bit of persuading we could get him to even run for a Government position. In Britain of course so a little bit of a smaller country but it’s still a start.”

“You think all that will happen because of one self-entitled man who’s daddy bought a casino,” Roxas asked, his voice full of genuine curiosity.

“Of course.” George laughed once more, tapping the table again. “Men with power, they’re blind to their surroundings. And with a little charm and a lot of patience, they end up listening to every word. And if that doesn’t work, I have my own form of...Persuasion that I could slip him.”

“But...That's not finished yet, I thought you were still working out some of its kinks.”

“I am.” George shrugged, “But I won’t be working out them kinks forever. Sooner or later it’ll be finished...”

A smirk crawled onto Roxas’ lips, his lips parted like he was ready to speak when-

Creak

What sounded like floorboards creaking under the weight of something caught the two men’s attention. They both turned to notice a petite teenager standing in the doorway. She froze, her eyes shifting up to look at the two men. She stepped back, staying close to one side of the door frame as she did, one hand gripping it.

“Was you spying on us?” Roxas asked, his voice had shifted from the curious tone he had only seconds earlier to one of anger. He stood up, the scrape of the sound against wood causing the small girl to flinch. George held his hand out to gesture for his son to stop. His eyes never looking away from the young girl.

“Rose, what are you doing out of your bedroom? It’s past your bedtime.” George’s voice still had that calm, quiet tone to it, but now there was something more sinister lingering behind his words.

“I-” Rose started, she looked away from the two men and towards the floor. Their gaze bringing fear to the teenager. “I was going to ask if you wanted a drink, Uncle George. I heard you come in late...And I know you always like a drink when you come home from work.” Her voice was much softer than Georges. A kindness to it, but all her words seemed to be masked in fear. George tilted his head, his eyes never looking away from the young girl.

“Rose, come here, please.” He spoke up, beckoning her to walk over with one finger. He knew she was lying by the way she refused to look at him but that wasn’t his concern at the moment. Slowly, the young girl walked towards her uncle, stopping in front of him. George’s hand took hers, running his thumb against her soft skin. “Rose, how did you get out of your room?” He asked, observing her while he spoke. Rose kept her eyes averted to the ground, she didn’t speak but to George, the silence spoke volumes. “I see, Stella’s lockpicking skills seem to be improving.” Rose's lips parted like she was about to speak, but closed almost as quickly as they had parted. She was smart, something George admired in the girl along with her sheer willpower to stay soft in such a cruel environment. He hadn’t seen that in any of the other children, it was almost endearing to the middle-aged man.

“...”

“I see.” George’s hand left hers and reached out; fingertips wrapping around the top of the glass and sliding it over to the teenage girl, the sound of the glass sliding against the willow table being the only sound filling the house and causing Rose to flinch once more, she watched his every movement from the corner of his eye. Vigilant like her sister, Stella’s teachings of course.

“I’ll take that drink then.” He smiled at her, still observing the girl’s movements. She nodded her head, barely, before reaching her hand out to take the glass, a scared frown on her soft lips and eyes looking anywhere but at her own uncle. Her fingertips brushed against the smooth, cool glass almost like she was hesitating before finally gripping the glass and turning on her heels. She was desperate to get out of the room, anybody could see that. George watched her take a few quick, timid steps away from him before his much larger hand reached out and wrapped around the girl's tiny wrist.

“Rose.” His voice was clear with a serious tone running through his words that caused even Roxas to shrink down in his chair ever so slightly. She stopped walking almost instantly at his touch before stiffening at the sound of her name leaving his lips. “Look at me.” There was authority behind his voice now, but he never raised his voice. Not once. Slowly, Rose turned around and let her gaze rise from the floor to look into his grey eyes. There it was, the fear he saw in her eyes whenever she looked at him. “Why are you frowning, Rose? Are you upset?” Rose once again chose silence over justifying herself. He let the pause drag on for a few moments before speaking up once more. This time knowing his words were going to stir a reaction.

“Do we need to wash that sadness away, Rose?” George asked the young teenager. His voice much softer, quieter this time; almost like this was an intimate moment between the uncle and niece. Rose’s eyes widened, trying to step away but George kept a tight grip on the female, pulling her petite figure closer towards him. She was shaking now, he could feel her hand tremble in his grip and it made a smile crawl onto his lips. Roxas watched the two, his eyes observant almost like he was mentally taking notes of everything his father was doing.

“No, Uncle George.” Rose replied, keeping her eyes locked with his. “I’m not sad, honest.” George tilted his head, his smile quickly tugging into a smirk. He gripped the girl’s chin with his thumb and index finger. “Then let me see that pretty smile of yours.” Those words left his lips almost in a low rumble. Slowly, the girl's lips trembled into a small smile. A smile full of fear. He loved it. He watched her for a few moments, taking in the details of her face before letting go of her. “Whiskey.” His voice had shifted back to normal, watching the girl start briskly walking from the room.

“Oh, and Stella, it’s rude to listen in on conversations.” The male's eyes now adverted to the doorframe where Rose had originally stood minutes ago.

“Fuck you.” A New Yorker accent shot back at the man, her voice lower, darker than Rose’s. The much taller woman pushed herself off the wall behind the door frame, her green eyes full of anger, hate for the men in the room before walking off behind Rose, the petite teenager now fully hidden by her six-foot sister.

The silence in the room grew thick once more, a common occurrence in this household. George had taught all the children in this house just how powerful silence can be. Often much more powerful than any words you could speak. Finally, the man looked back to his only biological son. “So.”

“So?” Roxas repeated, a questioning tone in his voice.

“How are you going to do it?” George leaned back in his chair once more. He watched his son why he mused, curious to hear his answer.

“Observe. Find the weakness. Strike.”

George leaned his elbows on the table, his smirk now curling into a grin.

“That’s my boy.”