AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Perhaps one with good press. Maybe something that will endear him to the public.”
“What are you suggesting, Prime Minister?” I stand to see him out while Percival and Julian start to make calls.
“Distractions go both ways. The public already knows him as the playboy prince. With the king sick, they will want him to clean up his act. He needs to step up and act like a king or at least give the illusion of it. It’s the only way to stop the country turning against us all.” We pause in front of the door where the music is loudest. Annoyance paints his face as though he can’t think through the noise.
“We like to make sure the walls don’t have ears.” The irony of my statement isn’t lost on me, given the reason why he’s here.
“Yes.” He smiles, narrowing his eyes up at the chandelier before he takes a step closer and adds, “Don’t forget about the fixtures. The replaceable parts are easy to overlook.”
“Percival’s looking into that too.”
“Start with what you have. Don’t procrastinate or wait for the next thing. The next incident is always worse than the last.” There’s a sombreness in his eyes that says his advice comes from firsthand experience. “If you need anything off the books, let me know.”
“We are off the books, Prime Minister.”
A low scoff rumbles to a short, dry laugh. “I mean that that never happened.”
“Thank you for the offer, but I’m a firm believer in doing things for myself.”
“Very well.” He nods, giving the room a final sweep of his stare before he heads out.
“Give your daughter and Freddie my regards,” I tell him as he heads down the hallway to meet his assistant at the front desk.
When I close the door, Simon calls me over to where he’s standing in front of the fireplace, looking at the portrait of our ancestors. With barely a glance down at the bar cart, he pours us both a drink. Scotch for him and brandy for me.
“We’ve become soft,” he says suddenly, holding out my drink to me. His voice is below a whisper, but the hard expression on his face speaks volumes. “This would’ve never happened in their day. Treason wouldn’t be shrugged off.”
Taking a sip of my drink, I mull over his words before I reply. “I’m not shrugging anything off.”
“You’re not?” He laughs bitterly.
“What the fuck do you want, Simon?”
He turns to me with an irked frown. “I want to be done with this shit so I can get the fuck out of here and get back to my life. So whatever it is you’re planning on doing, get it the fuck done.”
The irony of the conversation makes me laugh, even though my insides are twisting in agreement with his ruthless sentiment. We might be above the law in most respects, but we still have to maintain the integrity of the Wolfsden Society. There are rules we abide by.
“The king is dying, Henry,” he reminds me. “Our days of operating on the basis of ‘What would King George want us to do?’ are coming to an end. We know what Arthur would do right now, and as soon as this is out, he’ll be the new king in all but the pomp.” When I don’t say anything, he adds, “Benedict Gladstone knows it, and we both know he agrees. Use what we have, and fuck the lot of them.”
“Aren’t you meant to be the one mediating our actions?”
“There comes a point where mediation and negotiation are useless, and action is the only way forward.”
“And we’re at that point?”
Simon looks at me with a glare. “They killed your father. Tortured his driver. I think that line has been well and truly crossed. What’s next? Who’s next? If it’s true that the Republican is in bed with Charles Chapman…” He throws back the rest of his drink. “We need to be fucking them before they fuck us.”
“Drain their blood before they drain ours.” He nods. “The Chapman Syndicate has eyes everywhere, Simon.”
“Maybe they’re in here.” Gesturing around us, he pulls back as Julian joins us with Percival beside him. “You said there’s a traitor in our midst. What if it’s not a traitor? What if it’s a mole?”
“We do not want to start a war with Chapman’s lot,” Percival growls. “It’s suicide. Charles is a fucking kingpin. He hired hitmen to assassinate the police investigating him. He’s got more people in his pocket than—”
“So do we. What’s the point of this fucking place if not for resources? Simon’s right—we take him out before he helps the Republic eradicate us.” I see Percival’s point, but he’s wrong. This is fight or flight, and we’ve been here too long to tuck our tails between our legs now. “We hit him where it hurts, and soon enough, the bastard will rethink his ties.”
“You’re starting a war,” Percival sighs.
“But it’s been a long time coming,” Julian tells him before going back to the desk where we were earlier.
