Chapter 11 #2
“Jas and Falin just got home. Blake’s here with me.” The phone switches to speaker and I hear Blake’s cheerful voice say hi. She asks me how I’m doing, making idle small talk until I hear the rest of their voices come through.
“Lee!” Jasper booms. “How’s tea land? Eat any beans on toast today? Ow—”
“I just smacked him,” Falin deadpans. “We miss you. Tell us what’s going on.”
“Wait,” Jasper says. “Do I need to be holding a kitten for this conversation? You know… for emotional support.”
“Ignore him,” Damon says. I can picture the exact exasperated look he has on his face.
“Alright, so long story… well, actually… not really.” I sigh and run a hand down my face, twisting my lip ring. “Let me start over. In short, I found out that Orlov’s working with someone important here in London. A diplomat.”
“That can’t be good,” Blake says softly.
“A diplomat?” Falin asks. “Isn’t your father—”
Leave it to her to immediately pick up on that correlation.
“Yes,” I admit. “Orlov is somehow connected to my father.” There’s only silence on the other end of the phone. I inhale a cleansing breath, and go on. “I had no idea, of course.”
“Obviously,” Damon says.
“But… I should have known.”
“How is that?” Falin drops her tone. “I mean, you’ve known your father is a pretentious dickhead who treats you like shit… but how the hell does that equate to him being involved in illegal activities?”
“Before I transferred universities and moved to America, he was taking more of an interest in me. In my life, in my education. He’d heard about my tech skills, and was particularly interested in learning more.
At first a small part of me was… I don’t know…
happy to finally be getting attention from the man that refused to acknowledge me for my entire life.
It was almost like the moment I turned eighteen, he decided it was time to be a father figure.
He wanted to parade me around to his colleagues. Still does.”
I take a breath, gearing up for the difficult part of the story.
“I agreed to a weekend away. Networking, he called it. There was a part of me that considered seeing what his influence could do for my career, my future. The entire week prior to leaving, my gut was screaming at me to cancel. But I forced myself to go. Mum was ecstatic… I was finally connecting with the man she once loved. The man that tossed her aside like yesterday’s rubbish. ”
“Jesus, Lee, that’s some heavy shit,” Damon says when I stop to loose a breath.
“Yeah, with Mum, that’s a whole other story,” I tell them.
“Go on,” Falin says. “Tell us what happened.”
I close my eyes and remember details. “He brought me to some mansion in London. It was fucking massive. Alfred even chose the suits I wore… bought and tailored them for me. Dozens of men showed up. All these old money types—politicians, diplomats, businessmen. At first it seemed normal enough. Expensive booze, cigars, talking about deals and shit. But something felt off with each passing hour.”
I pause, running my hand through my hair. “The women serving drinks... they were young, barely my age. They seemed almost afraid to speak. Alfred told me they were paid escorts, which I thought was scummy enough of those old bastards, but who am I to shame sex workers.”
“By the second night, the men started getting more direct with me. This guy, I don’t even remember his name, kept cornering me. Pushing drinks on me, going on about how boys become men and I need to embrace my birthright. Real creepy shit.”
“Sounds fucking weird,” Jasper’s voice cuts through, all traces of his goofy side gone.
“They all kept telling me how lucky I was to be his son. How I had potential but needed to broaden my horizons. Stop being so naive about how the world works. Accept Alfred’s guidance. They were frothing at the mouth to learn more about my hacking skills too.”
I shift on the bed, bouncing my restless leg. “One of them, some politician with a ridiculous title, kept going on about how young men today are too soft. That my generation doesn’t understand what real power looks like. He said Alfred was trying to educate me properly and I should be grateful.”
“Fucking dicks,” Damon mutters.
“Yeah. And Alfred just sat there nodding and smiling along like they were giving me some kind of gift. The whole weekend felt like an initiation I never asked for. Like they were all waiting for me to prove I belonged in their little club by doing something that would fuck me up forever.”
I pause, remembering the look of disappointment on Alfred’s face when I kept refusing their offers.
“They made it clear that refusal meant walking away from everything. My father’s support, his connections, any future in their world.
And honestly? It was the easiest decision I ever made.
I just wish I would have realized their connection to Bailey.
I’ve tried to block that weekend from my mind. ”
“Don’t do that to yourself,” Blake says. “All of that went on in a completely different country, years ago. How would you know it was anything more than a creepy networking weekend?”
I try to let her words seep into my skin but there’s a barrier shoving the words back into the open air, my entire being yelling that she’s wrong. I was naive. “But the signs—”
“Which could mean a dozen different things to rich assholes,” Falin interrupts. “You were young and being manipulated by your own father. Don’t blame yourself for not seeing through something that twisted.”
Jasper’s voice chimes in, quieter than usual. “It sounds like they were grooming you. Trying to get you involved so you’d be complicit. So they could use you.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “And when I refused, Alfred went cold. He never gave up entirely, but he saw me leaving as a personal affront.” I hesitate, but then add, “He knows I’m here. I got an invitation to have dinner with him this weekend.”
“Fuck that,” Damon says. “Don’t go anywhere near him.”
“Actually… I think I might have to.”
“What if he has Orlov with him? What if they’ve caught on to your involvement in his massive loss of money… or of his nephew’s death? It’s too risky,” Blake says.
“Yeah, from what you just told us, it sounds like he’s involved with those Brotherhood pieces of shit,” Jasper adds.
“I hear you… but he may know something about Bailey. If there’s any chance, I have to go. I’ll feel him out, play into exactly what he wants from me.”
“Jasper’s right, it’s too dangerous,” Falin argues. “What if he’s trying to trap you?”
“It’s at a fancy restaurant. There’ll be people everywhere. I won’t give him the chance.”
“But—” Falin continues.
“Everything we do is dangerous,” I point out. “But this… looking him in the eye and feeling him out… it might be our best shot at getting in. I know how to handle Alfred. I’ve been doing it my whole life.”
There’s a long pause where I hear shuffling and murmured whispers, then Jasper speaks up. “We’re not letting you do this alone.”
Do I want them to come here already? Drag them into this mess when it could be a false alarm?
“I’m not—”
“Brother, you’re not winning this fight,” Damon says frankly. “We’re coming there.”
I fuck around with my lip ring, half of me relieved they want to come, the other half terrified to put them in danger. “Fine, but I need time to prepare first. Get my head right, reconnect with some old contacts.”
“What kind of contacts?” Falin asks.
“The kind that can supply me with certain things I couldn’t pack in my luggage. But also...” I pause, thinking about The Irons, about the rage I feel bursting at the seams. “I need to get myself ready mentally. Work through some shit.”
“How long?” Jasper asks.
“A few days. I’ll check into other leads, deal with some personal shit… Fly out Friday?” I ask. “The dinner’s not until Saturday.”
“That’ll work,” Damon says. “Gives us time to book flights and get organized.”
“Promise you’ll be safe until we get there,” Blake says.
“Uhh,” Damon cuts in. “You and Falin should stay here. Take care of the cats, do more research on the shit Leon’s found so far.”
I hold back a chuckle because I can just picture the death glares he’s receiving. And three… two… one… an argument breaks out. I can barely hear who’s saying what.
“Hey.” I try to make myself heard to no avail. “Hello!”
“How dare you?”
“Why wouldn’t we go?”
“It’s not safe.”
“Oh my fucking God, that shit again!”
“You’re the one who’s gotten shot twice!”
“Hey, I didn’t say anything!”
I groan, and try one more time. “FUCK’S SAKE!”
Quiet, finally.
“I’m hanging up now. Whatever you decide, just let me know. As much as Mum would love to have you all, we’d be like a tin of sardines in here. I’d need to find somewhere else for us to stay.”
“Don’t worry,” Blake seethes. “When Fal and I get our way, we’ll book a place big enough. You have enough on your plate.”
“And pet friendly,” Falin says.
“Text us regular updates,” Damon demands. “And if anything feels off—”
“Yeah, don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”
We say our goodbyes, but they go back to bickering before I can hit end. Some things I do not miss.
I open up my text thread with Bailey, reading it over until my eyes droop. I’ve got a few days to prepare, and I need to make them count.