Prevail - [Charles Leclerc]

Vingt-Neuf

"Are you planning to do something?" Pierre's voice sounded through the phone as they spoke in French. "No, not without any proof. Besides, I can't make a scene in front of Sara," Charles replied, having an earpiece in his right ear as he packed a small bag to take with him to Ibiza. Today, Sara and Charles were flying to Ibiza for the anniversary part of the Abrils. She didn't look forward to it, which she openly complained about during breakfast, but he had kept up the spirits and told her it would be fun. He had a surprise for her after all. Charles had been working overtime the last couple of days, in order to find out if he could get more information or witnesses, people who turned their back on Matteo Abril, anything that could help to pinpoint if he was the murderer of his father or not. It was frustrating how everyone he had spoke to so far seemed to be scared of the man. Even though the most of the men weren't working for Abril anymore, they still kept their lips sealed. Which was partly reasonable, there was an oath within every crew, that no one can tell anything about the inside business after leaving. Never.

He had to respect that, but it was hard for Charles. He simply saw the situation as that they worked for a corrupt killer. Was he any better? Charles straightened his posture. Of course he had killed before, as the Mafia King of Monte Carlo, but he had never been corrupt. To his crew, he was fair. To his partners too, he just didn't accept outsiders easily. Charles shook it off. "Sara's been eying me the last week," Charles continues in French. "Of course she has, she's with you all the time, Charles. She notices when something's up," Pierre replies. "Right," the Monegasque says. "I will be fine, we will be fine. I'm taking my guards, I'll behave. It's not like I will pull out my gun or start accusing him in front of everyone. I've been waiting for this for a lot of years now, Pierre," he continues. "That's exactly my point," the Frenchman answers. "I mean, I'm more patient and calm than I was before," Charles says, to have the last word. "You're right," Pierre mutters, although not sure if he says that just to please his friend and partner.

"Enjoy Ibiza then, or whatever you'll make of it," Pierre decided to say. "Keep me posted." The pair ended the call, and Charles gathered his cologne from the cabinet in the bathroom, taking a a bag for his hairgel, toothbrush and toothpaste. "I can't believe I finished packing earlier than you did," sounds the voice of his wife. It automatically causes a smile to show up on his face. "Well, mon amour," Charles starts, putting the smaller bag in his luggage. "You started last night, so, I wouldn't say that's fair," he grins down at her, satisfied to see her crossing her arms over her chest. "Hmm, okay," Sara gives in, letting herself fall down on the bed behind her, watching as Charles slides the rings onto his fingers and his watch around his wrist. He was dressed in a pair of sweats, a simple, black shirt covering his upper body. He looked good anyway. "Lando and Dennis are coming with us," Charles commented, stripping from his shirt to get properly dressed. "I know, Lando told me," Sara answers. "Of course he did," Charles chuckles. He didn't guess otherwise.

"You're the gossip girls of the residence, my love," he said, returning to the bed to caress her pretty face. "I'll take that," Sara smiles up at him, gladly wrapping her arms around him, her legs soon following as he lifts her up with a grunt. "Get ready too, our jet is leaving in an hour," Charles hums, making her nod as he kisses her lips and he slowly puts her down to the floor, his hand patting her hip to encourage her to get ready quickly. Sara went to her side of the closet, getting a pair of flared slacks out, a thin knitted sweater and a pair of heeled boots. She hadn't bothered to do her makeup or her hair, she only needed to be dressed properly for the flight and to enter the hotel when they arrived in Ibiza. Charles was done soon enough, and he kissed her cheek before he went to take their luggage downstairs. Dennis was putting it in the car that was ready for them. Lando would drive them there, with the other guard following in another car. Sara put her hair up in a pony tail and spritzed some perfume on her wrists and her neck, taking a last look in the mirror before leaving.