Lanvin Stanna still had the glow of the sun outside on his spoiled skin, as though it had retained and trapped the light, walking over the threshold of the modest but clean home. The wicked at the corners of his eyes flared slightly, shadow-play, around silver circles, to give a warning that his friendly body language was a lie. The t-shirt wasn't snug like the flesh-swollen handsomes and not loose like the self-assumed artists. It was exclusive, simply, where it lingered and where it flowed on his body made of redwood bones. And while he had a pale glow the rest of him was dark. Pressed slacks and leather shoes, black hair brushed back with volume. A chock of red for lips, though, but with dark intent, all the same.<br/><br/>The man and the woman of the house were eager to greet him. They didn't often have economical strides in the right direction - seemed every choice they made, no matter how thought-through or well-advised, would always add to the whole of their debt - but the new owner of their ever deepening monetary ditch was seeing them personally. They'd spoken to his associates mostly, and met him themselves about what they owed, but never in their own home. He was an exccentric, which excused almost any whim he had in their eyes, especially when he was looking favorably at their family.<br/><br/>The wife served up tea, and the man tried to make small talk. Lanvin had always liked trading words with Joshua. The older male was perfectly pointless in his musing, which had registered as nerves the first time the comparable boy had casually strolled by the office in which they'd anxiously been informed their debt had a new master. That time both of them had grey expressions, but he'd lifted their spirits and woven half-promises of easing their burden with comments about the growth of the city and the spring of opportunities for those who could read the tides. Joshua had thawed, but scarcely become more interesting.<br/><br/>Meredith had that painfully awed kind of startle at first. That kind of demeanor is attractive on a woman, frightened and willing to please, at least if you asked the spoiled Stanna man, who was used to browse for servants. But it is also wicked in a mother, viewed and experienced from her children. He'd been hard with her, and she'd responded well to it. Now, if he touched his brow, she was always asking him if he needed anything. He did, but he hadn't told them outright. Lanvin had stayed the key-keeper of their impossible haul. They seemed hopeful every time he breezed by, and the three had become casual friends.<br/><br/>Today was the time to harvest the product of their relationship, to Lanvin. He was lonely, he'd confessed, and didn't quite like the way everyone knew him, and wanted his money only. The pair had dismissively shaken their heads at people like that with him. Their daughter was no such person, they'd not raised her that way, Meredith injected. They did not see the gargoyle smile behind his beautiful façade. He'd asked for a picture and shown his approval when he looked at Josh's phone. They'd pushed for the meeting, and he'd sweetened the deal conciderably, if they promised it would be without complications. And so, within a few conversations a beloved only daughter became a profitable, new whore.<br/><br/>Lanvin was growing bored of complimenting them on their home, and listening to their modesty in return. He would be done with this part of the pretense soon. And the awful coffee Meredith served, too. They had promised she'd come by the kitchen anytime now, and he waited eagerly.<br/><br/>When she did poke her head in - why wouldn't she from hearing a stranger's voice and her mother and father so polite and reverent - she would see a contemporary royal, a wolf-king with youth on his cheekbones and black hair similar to the colorless photographs of her grandfather on her mother's side. Rich, everything about him, the milk on his skin and the silver in his eyes. Like the dragon had slept on its treasure for too long.<br/><br/>"Darling!" Joshua would call, and wave her over. "This is Mr. Stanna..." but the guest would lift too fingers at the presentation. "Ah, I mean Lanvin. He's a friend of the family and he's promised to take care of the financial hiccups we've been having lately." it was the most polite way of selling your daughter Lanvin could imagine. The glass-and-metal tower prince would raise the full hand when she were a few feet from the table, commanding her to stop. And then he'd spin his fingers like a starting lasso, so she would know to turn around a few times for his inspection. If she looked for confirmation from her parents they would agreed with meaning nods. He liked to see her, and pretended as though he didn't already have all images she'd ever appeared in, courtesy of his crew of secret eyes. Thi8s was a day of vengeance, but it was also a day of receiving long lost goods.