#mobvalentines2024

[jeanpalfroix]

Location: After-party

@mobscene-starters

Jean took another long drink from his glass. A vacation on a private yacht in Greece was all fun and games until it was revealed that Konstantin Vorshevsky's ex-wife was his company. Just his fucking luck, There was not enough booze in the fucking world to deal with this mess. "Drink up. I want to enjoy my last moments before my spine gets ripped out of my body."

[yvonne-rutherford]

Location: Valentines Charity Auction Date: 23 February, 2023

@mobscene-starters

Yvonne held an untouched drink more just to have something to do with her hands than anything else. Whenever she moved it, the glint of her ring caught her attention. The weight of it was slowly becoming comfortable, as were the polite congratulations as they entered the party. But the reality of it still took her breath away.

"Some of these date ideas have me wishing I was the one to think of them."

[sofiedekker]

Location: Valentine's Charity Auction Date: 23 February, 2023

@mobscene-starters

"So, what do you think the over/under on breakups for tonight is?" Sofie sipped at her drink, her eyes scanning over the room. She didn't mind being single, it took the pressure off of things, but she was not going to pass up the opportunity to laugh at others' drama. When she'd glanced over the list of dates, no identities popped out at her and it wasn't hard to believe that many of the other guests would struggle like she did. "Plus there's going to be so much groveling over the next month."

[yvonne-rutherford]

"I think my OB-GYN might have a few things to say if I tried to do shots right now. I'll tell you what, though. You can do shots and I'll watch. Or do shots of water."

"High five. I think self sabotage is in the air tonight." She patted her friend on the shoulder instead, though. "Shots.... Oh, wait... You're pregnant."

[jeanpalfroix]

Jean Palfroix attends VALENTINE’S DAY CHARITY DATE AUCTION at The Barbican Conservatory

[yvonne-rutherford]

Location: After party

@amaroadriana

God, the end of her first trimester could not come soon enough. Three years had apparently been enough for Yvonne's brain to completely erase how miserable pregnancy was, and now she was being reminded in violent fashion. She carefully pushed herself up from the floor she refused to fully kneel down on and flushed the toilet, and the remains of her dinner, away. She pushed the stall door open only to make eye contact with Adriana in the mirror.

Silence hung in the air between them and Yvonne wracked her brain for any indication of when her sister came into the bathroom and what she might have hear. "Hey," was all she could think to say as she reached for a paper towel and wetted it to dab at the corners of her lips.

[sofiedekker]

Sofie Dekker attends VALENTINE’S DAY CHARITY DATE AUCTION at The Barbican Conservatory

[sofiedekker]

Sofie nodded. Her own personal panic button. Mikhail Vorshevsky wasn't one she knew from her days in Miami, but his last name was reputation enough. At least he wasn't Viktoriya Kurylenko, though that bar was one small step above Hell.

"Thank you, Varden. I really do appreciate you looking out for me." A lot could happen in a couple hours, but it was a safety net she wasn't going to turn down. "What can you tell me about this Mikhail Vorshevsky? If I'm walking into the viper's den then I want to be as prepared as possible for it."

"No heart attacks is a good start." ...and probably in better standing that some of the French bros with their blow.

Without needing much more of a prompt, Varden took the seat offered. It was blatant that she wasn't taking this well, and nobody could blame her for that. Unfortunate, though, that none of them could help her out of it, either.

"I'm only going to be in Monaco. If you need anything, if anything happens, you call and I can be there in a couple of hours, all right?" Failing that, perhaps they could plant a warning in Vorshevsky's head that if anything happened to Sofie, they'd have to go looking for Lyudmila at the bottom of the fucking ocean... "You'll be fine."

[yvonne-rutherford]

yvonnerutherford: History and clear water. What more could you want? Thanks @westminster-insider @ayaz--ates

[sofiedekker]

@lismarstclair

"I'm jealous of your date. Please tell me your secret so if I'm somehow lucky enough to survive mine I can make sure it never happens again."

[yvonne-rutherford]

Yvonne Rutherford attends VALENTINE’S DAY CHARITY DATE AUCTION at The Barbican Conservatory

Escorted by: Félix Rodriguez

[jeanpalfroix]

Jean had no intention of approaching his "date" before their weekend excursion. She'd married Konstanstin Vorshevsky and was friends with too many of the Rutherfords. That was all he really needed to know about her.

Yet, it was almost Providence that she quite literally fell into him, no work needed on his part. The smile he offered her as he reached out to steady her could almost be mistaken for kind if his fingers weren't digging into her skin.

"Careful, Ms. Korshunova. You need to be steadier on your feet. It'd be a shame if that clumsiness got you hurt."

@jeanpalfroix

She promised she'd be right back.

A stop to the bathroom followed by a straight line to the bar to bring refills to her party. It was only a matter of time until the unknown amount of martinis devoured combined with high heels would result in an accident. Almost as if on cue, just as the thought passed the Russian's mind, Lyudmila's ankle twisted. Seeking support from the closest object, her fingers got hold of an arm, frame leaning on the person in an attempt to regain the balance.

"Excuse me –"

[yvonne-rutherford]

@ayaz--ates Location: After-party

"Looks like you're stuck with me for the weekend." At least it was someone she got along with. Hopefully they could buck the trend of scaring off assholes, though.

[jeanpalfroix]

Jean side eyed Olivia and downed his own shot with no reaction. "No, I think the more important question is whether you're going to keep disgracing the French Organization with your inability to do shots?"

FOR: @jeanpalfroix WHEN: 23rd of February, 2024 WHERE: Barbican Centre. Post Auction.

"The question we ask now is..." He downed the shot with a hiss, face scrunching up at the amber liquid while the burn overtook his throat. He coughed into his fist, trying to shift it before he continued. "Will you ever participate again after this outcome"

[jeanpalfroix]

"Where's the fun in that?" Jean raised his own glass in a mock salute. "It's not like you're taking today off from being a fucking psychopath."

FOR: @jeanpalfroix WHEN: 23rd of February, 2024. WHERE: Barbican Centre. Post Auction.

"You have your entire life to be a cunt." Maksim spoke lethally softly over the rim of the glass, eyes trained with deadly intention. His nose still fucking ached. "You can take today off."

[sofiedekker]

"What's that face for? Do you know something I don't?" The fact that her date was the brother of the leader of the Russian mob told Sofie plenty already, but she wouldn't turn down any information she could get her hands on.

@sofiedekker location: after party

"So you're the one who landed the date with Misha," Although she's smiling, Isla is quick to indicate a hint of a grimace as she calls over the bartender for two drinks. "How awkward for you"