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The thought of her–of us–at some future point like this calms me.
I have to make it a reality, whatever it takes.
The instructions in the email were vague, so I’m not entirely sure of the location of the meeting. I’m surprised when Eufrasio takes us to the marina. The docks are lined with super-yachts. Will my meeting with the Kingmaker Society be held on one of them?
I don’t have to wonder for long. The car comes to a halt by an empty part of the dock. There’s a small speedboat there, with a man dressed in a captain’s uniform sitting at the helm. Eufrasio hops out of his seat, greets the man, then rounds the car to open my door.
“Your journey is almost over, Mr. Duke,” he grins. “Gaspare will take you to your destination. It was a pleasure to chauffeur you.”
I thank Eufrasio, slip him a few notes and tell him to get himself a drink.
Gaspare isn’t as good-natured as Eufraiso, though. He’s a slight man, a little younger than the driver, with a surly expression. He doesn’t introduce himself or even tell me where he’s taking me. The only thing he does is ensure I’m seated in the bucket seat before he revs the gunmetal-colored boat out of the docks. That counts for something, I suppose.
The sleek boat may be small, but it’sfast.
I grip the sides of the seat as he guides us through the pristine blue waters. It’s a calm day out at sea—little wind and a fuckload of sun. Why didn’t I check the weather?
My suit is starting to feel like a furnace. I should have had Eufrasio stop by one of the stores in town—at this point, I would even wear one of those horrendous, touristy linen shirts. The only good thing is that the mist from the water splashes on my face throughout the journey.
I welcome it, wishing I could go for a swim to cool down.
The coast grows smaller and smaller behind us. At first, it seems like we’re going straight out into the middle of the sea, until Gaspare makes a sharp turn, taking us parallel to the coast and toward a small inlet tucked away between two gaping mountains.
There’s a yacht moored there.
To be honest, yacht doesn’t even feel like the right word.
It’s fucking huge. The only ship I’ve ever seen bigger than this one are commercial cruise liners. It’s the same gunmetal color of the speedboat we’re on, and must be close to two-hundred meters in length with five decks above sea level.
My throat goes dry.
A vessel this size would easily cost north of half a billion pounds. It would take years to build and would need hundreds of people just to keep it running.
I’m impressed.
I’ve had money all my life. When I was a teenager, my biggest dream was owning a 1956 Ferrari 250 GT Berlinetta—I got one for my fifteenth birthday, even though I had to get a driver to take me around until I got my license. When I turned eighteen and gained access to my trust fund, I bought my first Gulfstream.
But a yacht like this? I can’t reasonably afford something like this. Maybe I couldbuyit, but the maintenance would run me into the ground after a few years. As a member of the Kingmaker Society though, owning something like this wouldn’t just become possible.
It would be expected.
Wealth runs deeper within the brotherhood. You get access to deals and opportunities that the average man doesn’t even know exist. Suddenly, I understand why they brought me here.
They want me to see how the other side lives. To give me a taste of the kind of success that could be mine if I make it into their good graces, if I prove I truly have what it takes to be part of the Kingmaker Society.
It’s fucking working.
Keller will have to kill me to win this election. As I didn’t have a good enough reason to win before? This lights a fire in my blood.
As we get closer, the name of the vessel comes into view.
Alyona.
There’s a lot that goes into choosing the name of a ship—after all, you’ll want it to bring good luck during arduous journeys across the open sea. I wonder what this one means?
I don’t even have to think of what I will name mine. I know a name that would make it indomitable—Manon.
Alize’s middle name.
