Don't You See the Evening Star Appearing? [Gala Close]

There was a place for everything, and everything was now in its place. Claudia had thought long, planned longer, and worked in a way that most might have called "desperately" to see all of her plans tie themselves together into a perfect thread. Ambitions years, no, decades in the making were reaching their end; she would finally see the next step taken. There had been complications, and yet they had all fallen perfectly into place for her. Those daughters of hers had played their roles perfectly, and she would certainly reward them for it. Ah, and Alastair, he had been a friend to give her that final piece of motivation. He deserved no small prize too, did he not?

Though not a woman who cared for entertainment, Claudia could not help but hum a cheerful tune to herself as she readied for bed. She checked her computer to ensure that the last few bits and pieces of her plan were secure, and smiled to herself as she laid down to close her eyes. She could finally leave this false body she'd been inhabiting for the last several weeks, and move on to her next project. Things were well and good with the Duvalier Group, but it had grown stale, become too much even for Claudia to use as a worthwhile tool anymore. Tools that had lost their use were to be discarded, and that was why she had simply stockpiled plenty of assets within other companies.

At 2:30am, a bomb detonated within the Castello Aragonese. The explosion, though relatively contained, was nevertheless highly damaging. Hollow energy, resembling that of a cero, burst from the area, but any who had been present would surely have known it was a bomb from the get go. She'd rather appreciated that design, so it would be a waste not to use it again, hm?

Naturally, such a thing caused a bit of chaos. Security, though tight, still could not completely ensure a calm and orderly response to it. However, what was quite abundantly clear even from the initial search was that the detonation had been intent on targeting Claudia Duvalier herself. The first guard to respond made it abundantly clear what he had found; little more than a charred husk that had once been Ms. Duvalier. The crew on the scene was swift in securing it, and those who had been previously guests in the Castello were now swiftly being ushered away.

One particular guest, a Brazilian entrepreneur of relatively little renown by the name of Francesca Cambronne, was given little attention as she was shuffled away. She knew that the majority of the Duvalier Group's assets would be split evenly among Claudia Duvalier's four "daughters." She knew, just as well, that those subsidiaries involved in medical research and weapons manufacturing were to be given in full to one Alastair Eisfluch, and that all facilities within the City of Lights were to be donated to the Vandenreich.

Only when her plane's wheels had drawn up, and there was no doubt as to her smooth escape, did she smile to herself as she sipped a glass of fine wine. It was a smile no normal man or woman could ever replicate; the smile of true, unadulterated malice.

The smile of a cruel ghost, who had freed herself from the shackles of a single mortal form. All according to plan.