One shots

Rupture

Every step she took closer the house loomed over her, reminding her of just how insignificant she really was. These people literally had the world in their hands, including hers. And these were unprecedented times. She didn't realise she was holding her breath as she walked up the steps to the front door. The front door that was so wide two people had to pull each door apart to separate ends. And today two guards manned each side, watching her like hawks.

She felt some of the confidence she felt falter at the sight of people. The entrance was as big as a hotel, stairs ran up both sides, a huge chandelier hung above them. She was sure if it fell it would wipe out at least ten people underneath it. Directly under it sat a round table, with a large bouquet of lowers in a vase. Except today it had a few drunk glasses of the finest champagnes that were as swiftly removed as they were discarded. The floors were marble, the finest that she could never in her lifetime imagine owning a square foot of. The walls were a stark white with dark brown wood panelling with tasteful pieces of art that cost millions hung up. And there were windows pretty much everywhere, floor to ceiling making the already big place look like it was endless. She knew it took almost half an hour to walk from one end of the place to the other. And she knew that every room and accent screamed money, just as it did today.

He knew the smile on his face was full of it. Although it was more of a grimace of disgust he was going for. For a funeral everyone was dressed to the nines. Well probably except him and the twins, not that their clothes didn't cost a few hundred each. But they were modest and repeatable for the occasion. He knew he was judging, and he didn't not give a flying fuck. Because for the most part he knew every single person in the and their tainted pasts. And more than anything he hated the Good Samaritan facade all of them played, men were dressed in the finest black, dome in tuxedos and others looking as if they were about to hit up casinos in Vegas. The women were no less. Either dressed scantily as if about the hit up clubs, or go out for cocktails at the country club. Or they were dressed in gown one would wear to galas, charities or balls. After all any social call was a call to find a potential cheating asshole if a life partner. And the his family were at the top of the food chain.

She stood out like a saw thumb. The way she dressed. That they knew she was an outsider. Not one of them as she was once again reminded. It bigger things were at play. Like her livelihood and dream. She planned this out. She would find Cillian first and offer her condolences. Then she would hid in the shadows and find Niamh. So she followed the foot traffic, knowing that they were all sees I fit at least a glimpse of not a chance to talk to the next Cunningham to take over the empire. It made a shiver run down her spine knowing how much like his father Cillian had grown up to be. Moulded and groomed he was often compared to the older man. She knew the deepest and darkest about the family, what he went through to some extent to protect his siblings. And even though he showed he had no capacity to feel and be humane. Sometimes she thought she could see just that. Something in his eyes that made him just like the rest.

She excused herself weaving through people to get to the man in question. He looked out one of the windows out into one of the gardens, where a fountain could be seen in the distance with a cognac in his hand. She could feel the tension radiating off of him as she came to stop short by his side. She offered no words even though she knew he knew that she was there. Not until he looked at her before looking out. And she wasn't sorry for the next words that came out of her mouth either.

"I would say sorry for your loss but we both know that's a lie."

He looked at her again. Really looked at her as she met his gaze head on. She knew she was right. Because underneath all the layers that was the enigmatic Cillian there was relief. And freedom. And she knew she did well when a sardonic smile crossed his lips as quick as lightning.