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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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Caleb offered his hand to the stunned young lawyer, a predatory, unshakeable confidence radiating from his every pore. "So, Mr. Toussaint," Caleb murmured, the faint, dangerous edge of the mob boss bleeding through his corporate facade. "Tell me. Am I more than qualified to offer you the job?"
Pierre stood completely frozen on the sun baked cobblestones of Saint Denis, staring at the large, leather gloved hand extended toward him. His mind, usually a sharp, brilliantly organized catalog of legal statutes and constitutional precedents, was entirely blank, short circuiting under the sheer, suffocating magnitude of the name he had just heard.
Don McLaughlin.
Pierre was flabbergasted by what he had just heard. As a newly minted lawyer stepping into the cutthroat legal arena of Lemoyne, he had, of course, heard the whispered rumors of the new Don. In the legal profession, crossing paths with the Don's sprawling business empire, his shadow influence, and his highly paid retainers was practically inevitable.
Pierre had heard the terrifying stories passed around the university corridors and the courthouse steps, stories of a ruthless, brilliant tactician who had violently dismantled Angelo Bronte's century old syndicate in a matter of days and claimed the entire city for himself.
He had expected to encounter the Don's influence eventually, perhaps in a courtroom or through a proxy. But he absolutely did not expect it to go like this. He never imagined meeting the legendary Don in the flesh at a high society book publishing event, let alone standing face to face with him on the street while the man casually offered him the keys to a multi hundreds of thousands of dollars corporate kingdom.
Seeing the Don's hand hanging in the air between them, a sudden wave of primal panic washed over Pierre. He realized that leaving the most dangerous man in the state hanging was a spectacularly bad idea.
He moved purely on survival instinct. Pierre, of course, immediately stepped forward and went to shake the Don's hand. His own hand was trembling slightly, terrified of offending the King of Saint Denis, knowing that a single misstep right now could cost him literally his job, his future, and quite possibly his life.
Their hands clasped. Caleb's grip was firm, incredibly strong, and calloused from years of gunfights and frontier survival, a stark contrast to the soft, ink-stained hands of the young lawyer.
Caleb smiled as they shook hands. It was not a cruel, mocking smile, but rather a deeply empathetic, reassuring expression. He could read the absolute terror radiating from Pierre's rigid posture.
"Breathe, Mr. Toussaint," Caleb said to him, his voice dropping into a low, comforting tone that instantly eased the tension vibrating in the young man's shoulders. "Do not be afraid. I can see exactly what is going on in your mind right now. You are calculating the odds of surviving this conversation."
Caleb released Pierre's hand, offering a gracious nod. "I assure you, I am not offended whatsoever by your previous questions. In fact, I respect them. So please, do not worry. You are perfectly safe."
Hearing that calm, absolute reassurance from a man who could end him with a snap of his fingers, the paralyzing fear finally began to drain from Pierre's body. He let out a long, shaky exhale.
Pierre nodded his head, his posture immediately shifting. Where he had previously stood as an equal trying to pitch his services, his body language now became extremely respectful, his head bowed slightly in deference to Caleb's supreme authority.
"Thank you... thank you, Don McLaughlin," Pierre stammered, his highly educated voice returning to him, though it was still thick with awe. He swallowed hard, desperate to mend his previous lack of decorum. "I must formally apologize. You are, of course, more than qualified to offer me this position. I... I simply did not know who you were when you approached. That is the only reason I said such disrespectful things regarding your authority."
Caleb simply waved his hand dismissively, his sharp blue eyes crinkling with amusement. He genuinely didn't care about aristocratic formalities unless they served a purpose.
"It is entirely okay, Pierre. We can forget the formalities for now," Caleb said smoothly, redirecting the conversation back to the monumental business at hand. "So, what do you say? Do we have an agreement on my offer of employment, or not?"
Pierre didn't need to consult a ledger to know the answer to that. "Of course, I accept! I wholeheartedly agree to your offer, Don McLaughlin. It would be the honor of my life."
"Excellent," Caleb smiled, pleased with the rapid, decisive response.
"But..." Pierre hesitated, adjusting his wire rimmed spectacles nervously. His analytical mind, the very trait that made him a brilliant lawyer, simply couldn't let the anomaly go. "I do have one question, sir. If you would permit me."
"Ask," Caleb commanded gently.
"Why me?" Pierre asked, his brow furrowing in genuine confusion. "You are the Don of Saint Denis. You possess limitless capital. Surely, you have hundreds of choices amongst the top, most prestigious legal minds in Saint Denis. You could easily afford to hire senior partners from outside of the state of Lemoyne, men with decades of experience in the law and property. I am just a graduate. Why hand me the reins?"
Caleb's smile broadened. He appreciated the young man's lack of arrogance. He stepped closer, explaining the exact philosophy that governed his empire.
"It is great that you accepted, Pierre," Caleb began, his tone highly instructive. "And as for why I chose you over the established, grey haired senior lawyers of this city? Well, it is precisely because you are not one of them."
Caleb gestured toward the towering brick banks and law offices lining the avenue. "The established lawyers in Saint Denis are heavily compromised. They are loyal to Mayor Lemieux, they are loyal to the old, rotting money of the plantations, or they were loyal to the regime I just dismantled. I cannot trust a man who has spent twenty years taking bribes from my enemies."
Caleb pointed a leather-gloved finger directly at Pierre's chest. "I wanted fresh blood into the mix. I want a brilliant, hungry mind that is entirely untainted by the corruption of this city's past. I want a man whose loyalty is bound to me, and me alone, because I was the one who gave him his start. You have no old masters, Mr. Toussaint. That makes you infinitely more valuable to me than a man with thirty years of compromised experience."
The profound logic of the Don's strategy struck Pierre like a lightning bolt. It made absolute, terrifying sense. He wasn't just being hired; he was being molded.
Pierre nodded his head in deep, profound understanding. He thanked the Don profusely for giving him the unprecedented opportunity, even though a small, humble part of him still couldn't fully comprehend why the universe had suddenly chosen to bless him so immensely.
Meanwhile, standing just to the side, safely tucked beneath the shaded awning of the publishing house, the women of the Van der Linde gang had watched the entire exchange unfold with immense interest.
Mary-Beth, Karen, Tilly, and Molly stood together in a tight, beautifully dressed cluster. While the deafening noise of the book buying frenzy roared a few yards away, their attention was entirely captivated by the handsome, flustered young lawyer and their sweet, blushing friend.
Karen, her eyes gleaming with wicked, sisterly mischief, leaned in close to Tilly. She couldn't resist the golden opportunity laid out before her.
Karen whispered directly into Tilly's ear, her voice dripping with playful, scandalous teasing. "Well, would you look at that, Tilly. It seems your little accidental collision just paid off in a massive way. You could meet the handsome lawyer a whole lot more now, seeing as Don McLaughlin has officially recruited him into the family business!"
Tilly's face, which had just begun to return to a normal shade, instantly flushed a brilliant, burning crimson. She elbowed Karen sharply in the ribs, her eyes darting nervously toward Pierre to ensure he hadn't heard the blonde woman's loud whispering.
"Karen! Stay silent!" Tilly hissed, thoroughly mortified, hiding her burning face behind her gloved hands. "He is a professional! Stop embarrassing me!"
Mary-Beth and Molly just chuckled softly at these antics. Mary-Beth felt a deep, warm surge of happiness in her chest. Seeing Tilly, who had suffered through so much darkness and fear on the run, finally experiencing the innocent, thrilling butterflies of a respectable romance was a beautiful thing. It was proof that the safe, golden future Caleb had promised them was actually coming true.
After that highly consequential encounter on the sidewalk, the publishing event outside continued with an unrelenting, chaotic fervor. The cash registers kept ringing, and the crowds kept pushing against the tables. But the Don's business on the street was officially concluded.
Archibald, Arthur, and Thaddeus, the three sweating heads of the publishing houses, moved forward to escort their most vital assets away from the crushing public.
With deep, sweeping bows, the three heads brought Caleb, Mary-Beth, the three girls, and the newly hired Pierre Toussaint away from the noise.
They were swiftly brought through the heavy, brass studded oak doors of the headquarters, leaving the sweltering heat of the afternoon behind, and were escorted directly up a grand, carpeted staircase to the second floor of the building.
The second floor was an absolute sanctuary of quiet, high society corporate power. The massive executive office boasted floor to ceiling mahogany bookshelves, plush leather sofas, and a massive bay window that looked down over the chaotic street below. The air smelled of expensive cigar smoke, aged paper, and polished wood.
The executives ushered the group into the room, hastily clearing a large, circular mahogany table in the center of the office.
Here, the formal logistics of Caleb's impromptu hiring had to be finalized. Archibald Vance walked over to a heavy iron safe in the corner, unlocked it, and pulled out a thick, beautifully bound legal document.
Pierre was invited to sit at the table. He was then formally given the contract of him becoming the Chief Corporate Lawyer of the Lemoyne Unified Press.
As Pierre adjusted his spectacles and began to read the heavy, intricate legal jargon, the three executives stood near the windows, exchanging pained, highly stressed glances.
The truth of the matter was that this specific contract was not a blank template. It was the exact, highly lucrative contract the three heads had meticulously prepared for a completely different lawyer, a sixty year old, heavily connected senior partner from a prestigious firm that they had personally chosen to represent their new, massive syndicate. They had planned to bring their own man in to secure their own interests.
But since the Don had casually, effortlessly made his choice right there on the sidewalk, entirely bypassing their corporate hierarchy, their carefully laid plans were completely destroyed.
They looked at the fresh faced kid reading the document, their veteran business sensibilities screaming in silent protest. But they didn't dare do anything against the decision made by him.
They knew that if they spoke up and told Caleb they preferred their own corrupt lawyer, Caleb would likely burn the building to the ground with them inside it. So, they pasted tight, entirely fake smiles onto their faces and watched as the keys to their legal framework were handed over to Pierre.
"The terms are... the terms are absolutely staggering, Don McLaughlin," Pierre whispered, his eyes wide as he read the salary figure written in crisp black ink. It was more money in a month than his entire family had made in a decade.
"The terms reflect the immense responsibility you now carry, Mr. Toussaint," Caleb replied smoothly, standing behind Mary-Beth's chair with his hands resting casually in his pockets. "Sign it. And let us celebrate."
With a trembling hand, Pierre picked up a heavy gold fountain pen provided by Mr. Sterling. He dipped the nib into a crystal inkwell and, with a flourish of beautiful cursive, signed his name on the dotted line.
LEMOYNE UNIFIED PRESS - ARTICLES OF EMPLOYMENT
Chief Corporate Counsel: Pierre Toussaint
Authorized by: Don McLaughlin, Majority Shareholder
After the contract was officially signed and the ink was blown dry, the tense corporate atmosphere completely evaporated, replaced by a warm, triumphant celebration.
Antonio, who had silently materialized in the room alongside the executives, directed the office staff to bring out refreshments. The group enjoyed a lavish spread of high society food and drinks. There were delicate, crustless cucumber sandwiches, silver platters of imported French cheeses, fresh strawberries, and crystal flutes filled with the absolute finest, ice cold champagne.
Caleb raised his glass, offering a toast to Mary-Beth's unprecedented literary success, and a second toast to the newest, brightest legal mind in the family's employ. The room was filled with joyous laughter, the clinking of crystal, and the soft, sweeping sounds of the girls enjoying their luxurious sanctuary.
After nearly an hour of celebrating, the afternoon shadows began to lengthen across the mahogany floorboards. It was time to return to the fortress.
Caleb set his empty champagne flute down on the table. He gathered his group, offering his arm to Mary-Beth once more. He took his group, alongside Pierre, and prepared to leave the building. The executives bowed deeply as they exited the office, practically sweeping the floor with their gratitude.
They walked back down the grand staircase and out into the slightly cooler air of the late afternoon. The massive crowd had thinned out slightly, though the clerks were still furiously selling books from the diminished pyramids.
As they reached the cobblestone sidewalk where the black-lacquered carriage was waiting, Pierre stopped. He clutched his heavy stack of law books and his freshly signed corporate contract tightly to his chest.
Pierre turned to Caleb, bowing his head respectfully. He wanted to leave immediately to begin preparing for his new job.
"Don McLaughlin, Madam McFarlane," Pierre said, his voice brimming with newfound purpose and dedication. "I cannot thank you enough for this day. If you will excuse me, I must take my leave. I need to return to my boarding house, review the syndication laws, and begin drafting the copyright protections for the Madam's literature immediately. I will be at the corporate office at first light tomorrow."
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Name: Caleb Thorne
Age: 23
Body Attributes:
- Strength: 8/10
- Agility: 8/10
- Perception: 9/10
- Stamina: 8/10
- Charm: 8/10
- Luck: 9/10
Skills:
- Handgun (Lvl MAX)
- Rifle (Lvl MAX)
- Firearms Knowledge (Lvl MAX)
- Past Life Memory (Lvl MAX)
- Knife (Lvl MAX)
- Blunt Weapon (Lvl MAX)
- Sneaking (Lvl MAX)
- Horse Mastery (Lvl MAX)
- Poker (Lvl MAX)
- Hand to Hand Combat (Lvl MAX)
- Eagle Eye (Lvl MAX)
- Dead Eye (Lvl MAX)
- Bow (Lvl MAX)
- Pain Nullifier (Lvl MAX)
- Physical Regeneration (Lvl MAX)
- Crafting (Lvl MAX)
- Persuasion (Lvl MAX)
- Mental Fortitude (Lvl MAX)
- Cooking (Lvl MAX)
- Teaching (Lvl MAX)
- Trilingual Language Proficiency - G, I, & C (Lvl MAX)
- Inventory System (Permanent - 100x100x100)
- Acting (Lvl MAX)
- Alcohol Resistance (Lvl MAX)
- Treasure Hunter (Lvl MAX)
- Drugs Resistance (Lvl MAX)
- Business (Lvl MAX)
- Leadership (Lvl MAX)
Money: 3,222 dollars and 60 cents
Inventory: 284,392 dollars and 61 cents, 11 gold nuggets, 74 gold bars, 1 Double Action, 1 Schofield, 2 Colm's Schofields, 1 land deed (Parcel), 1 Mauser, 1 Semi Auto Pistol, 1 Lancaster Repeater, 1 Old Wood Jewelry Box, 1 F.F Mausoleum small brass key, 1 Ruby, 1 Braithwaites Land Deed, 1 Broken Pirate Sword, 1 Milton's Safety Deposit Key, 1 Senator Pendleton Sealed Envelope, Proof Of Marlin-Thorne Firearms Co., 10 Dynamites, 1 LeMat, 1 M1899, 1 Carcano, 1 Ownership deed of Doyle's Tavern, 3 Diamonds, & Important Documents & Deeds Of Cornwall
Bank: -