Page 48 of Legacy of Succession

“I wish it were that easy.” I pull her closely to me and press a kiss to her sex tangled hair.

“Your father and the rules.”

“The last task.”

“What is it?”

“The one that’s essential to the society’s business. It’s the one that defines us.”

“I don’t understand?”

I take a deep breath and lead Victoria back into the summer house. We take a seat on the daybed.

“You know you asked me about the Van Gogh picture in the main hall.” I run a hand through my hair with the nerves I feel.

“Yes. The obvious fake.”

“It’s not a fake. It’s the real one.”

“But that can’t be possible. It was stolen eight years ago.” She screws her nose up in confusion.

“I know. I was the one who stole it.”

“What?” She pulls back from me like I’ve just told her that her favorite puppy has died, or something. She’s in shock and confused. “You stole it? The real ‘Poppies’, you have the real painting in your hall.”

“Yes.” I nod guiltily.

“How?” she exclaims.

“I’ve been trained as a thief since almost the day I was born. Most of the members of the society are. Nobody suspects us because of who we are. We have a lot more pictures in our collection than are on show. Most of the stolen Nazi pictures are hidden in special storage under Oakfield Hall. We’re worth billions in collectable art.”

Victoria slides from the bed and puts distance between us.

“And that’s why the society was set up. To collect art. We needed money to maintain our positions. It was the one-way way to do it that the founders all agreed on. Over the years, to keep us going, we’ve allowed others who possess the appropriate skills to join. The majority of work is still the acquisition of paintings, but we also collect sculptures, architecture when we can steal it, and famous photographs and videos.”

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing.”

“Are you angry?”

“I’m confused. You steal paintings and think it gives you the right to treat women the way you do?” She looks at me, eyes narrowed, and the expression on her face is harsh.

“When the society was set up, my ancestors were the highest ranked. They took on the most risk. In those days, losing their head would’ve been the least of their problems if they were caught. My four times great grandfather demanded something in exchange. He wanted a choice of brides for his son. The rules and trials were documented and have been in place ever since. My great, great grandfather tried to repeal them during the Victorian times, but the industry was exploding, and the artworks collected were being used for expanding the society’s interests during the Industrial Revolution. New rules were put in place stating that should we try to stop the legacy of our succession, we’d forfeit everything, including our lives. The Dukedom of Oakfield would become extinct because all heirs would be executed. That’s why I’ve fought so hard against this. Not only would I die but also William. He’s an innocent in this. His only crime is having the father that he does.”

Victoria squeezes me a little harder when I finish my mini-speech.

“The decisions of our ancestors have put us in the position we’re in. We'll work together to try and put a stop to it. I’ll trust your decisions. But, when we succeed, we must give the artwork back. It’s not ours to keep.” She sits down on the bed again. Her legs seeming too heavy to support her weary frame.

“Even ‘The Poppies’? I’m quite fond of that one. I nearly got caught taking it.”

She frowns.

“Even ‘The Poppies’. When this is over, you can tell me about how you took it. I’m actually intrigued.

I bend down, kiss her and let go to search out the rest of my clothes.

I have to go and find my father. I need to tell him we’re marrying.”

“Is he going to make me do the last task?” she questions.

“I don’t know, but if he does, I’ll do all I can to help you. Trust your instincts.”

“What is it?”

I nervously lick my lips.

“You’ll have to steal a painting.”

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