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1
GIDEON
The fire crackles in the hearth as the wind whips across the windows of my office. Winter in this small village in the North of England is brutal, especially up on this hill where, what some people would call mycastle, sits.
It’s not really a castle. Well, not anymore. At one time, a long time ago, I’m sure some Lord sat here, presiding over his people, but not me. I’m just a man with more money than I can count, a position that brings both fear and revere from those in the know and a residential prison for my sins. I haven’t left this old place in five years, and it’ll probably be another five until I do. If not longer. It creates too much mystery for my liking, where I would rather be in the shadows, but taking one step out of these walls will likely result in my death. I’m not a dramatic man by any stretch of the imagination, although I do love a great Shakespearean tragedy. There’s something familiar about the betrayal and intrigue, but when there are enough people out for your blood for their own agenda, it tends to make one… protective of one’s body parts.
Taking a sip of my whiskey, I stare into the fire, the plush carpet soft under my feet, I hear a rustle behind me.
“Sophia. Lovely evening.”
“Only you would think that,” she grouses.
Grinning, I turn to my dear sister. Younger than me by six years, I dote on her. Probably because I have no one else in my life. She is it for my contact with human beings in a face-to-face manner. I am the typical stereotype for a reclusive billionaire, but I can’t help the cliché. It is what it is, as that annoying saying goes.
“That wind howls around this draughty old place.”
“Draughty? That’s a bit mean. It’s ancient but well-kept. The only draughts come through the open windows.”
“So shut them, you fucking lunatic,” she snaps and crosses over to the windows to slam them shut.
The noise of Mother Nature dies down, and I feel it down to my very soul. I do love the wild weather. It speaks to my darkness and gives me a slight excitement to see the reaction of nature in its savageness. Sunny and calm is boring as all fuck. Give me this any day.
“Rude,” I chide her gently.
“Gideon, we need to talk.”
“About what?” Her serious tone has piqued my interest, and I know my sister. She is about to drop a bomb on me from a dizzying height.
“I need a break,” she sighs and moves back to the doorway, already planning her escape.
“A break?” Giving her a severe glare, she purses her lips and drops her gaze. “From me?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Never from you, but from this!” She gestures emphatically around the room.
“This…”
“You know what I mean. This life you lead is hard for me, too, you know. I have no friends; I barely go anywhere anymore. This book I’m writing is taking over my life, and I need a break from it and from this.”
“And where do you plan to take this break?”
Her blue eyes, just like mine, fire back up as I don’t shoot down her statement. Yet. She flicks her long, dark hair over her shoulder and gains confidence. She is so like me in so many ways, but she was never cut out for this life. This legacy.
“Somewhere hot and calm.”
Snorting as I could’ve guessed that, she throws me a smile.
“Okay, fair enough. But you know I need more than that.”
“I’m not sure yet.”
“And will anyone be joining you on thisbreak?”
I already know the answer to that. She forgets how well I know her. Sophia avoids my gaze and steels herself.
“Maybe.”
“Who?”
