Page 2 of Prized Possession

My father loves winding me up, and it’s taken years of practice to remain aloof while he does.

“You know full well that I own a suit, and wear it when the occasion calls for it.”

As much as I hate to admit it, I understand why my father views his suit as auniform, and I can’t deny that people show me a different level of respect when I’m dressed the way my father expects—even if I personally hate it.

He wrinkles his nose, his glare narrowing as he disapproves of the tone I used on him. I can tell he’s about to start on another lecture about accountability and professionalism that I’ve heard a million times before, so I cut him off before he can begin.

“Was there anything in particular you needed to discuss when you called this meeting?” I ask, hoping it’s enough of a distraction to prevent his lecture.

Although we meet regularly to discuss family business, this was very much a last minute, unplanned meeting, and it set me on edge from the moment Miles informed me it had been added to my schedule.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I did have something important I’d like to discuss with you. But before I get into that, how’s business? Everything going okay with Jacob? As I’ve made clear before, I’m worried about his recent behaviour,” my father states, his gaze piercing into me as he tries to read my reaction to him bringing up my best friend.

Although I’m swearing and panicking inside my head, I make sure to keep my mask of indifference in place, so he can’t see what’s going on beneath the surface.

“As I explained at our last meeting, Jacob is going through a phase right now where he’s partying a little more, blowing off steam, but that is all in his private life. Whilst he’s at work, he’s a complete professional, and we’re working well together, just as we always have. I’m not worried, so you shouldn’t be either.”

I hold my breath, hoping my father is buying my lies.

The truth is, I am worried for my best friend. He’s been slowly getting more reckless, engaging in activities that cast a doubt over him as a leader, and I know I’ll only be able to protect him for so long.

“His father has also expressed some concern to me about his behaviour. If his own father is worried, then surely we should be too,” he retorts, looking far too smug.

Fucking Jacob, I think to myself. I’ve been bailing his arse out of trouble since we were kids, but we’re adults now, with massive responsibilities on our shoulders, and I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to protect him.

“You know the relationship Jacob has with his father is complicated. I’m sure that’s all it is.”

Well, that’s a massive fucking understatement. The relationship I have with my father is complicated. What Jacob and his father have going on is a whole fucking shit-show.

It’s one of the reasons we’ve always got on so well together. We can bothrelate to the crippling expectations that come with being heir to a major crime family.

For generations, the Morelli and the Santoro family have been rivals, each battling for control over Blackthorn, the largest city in the North East of England. Whilst some of the bigger families were all fighting for dominance over London and the South, the Morellis and the Santoros set their sights further North.

With good transport links to all the major cities, as well as a port and airport for international imports, the Morellis quickly identified the benefits of this smaller, albeit just as profitable area. Sadly, the Santoros had the same idea, and for years our families were engaged in a turf war, each trying to take ownership for themselves.

When Maximus Morelli and Caleb Santoro came to power, they decided to call a truce between the warring families. For the past thirty years, our fathers have ensured a peace treaty remains in place, working together for the good of Blackthorn.

The Morellis, under my father Maximus’ control, took ownership of the East, while the Santoros, led by Jacob’s father, Caleb, ruled the West. They’d have regular Council meetings where they’d make decisions for the city together, whilst each retaining their own portion of power.

Me and Jacob were raised as our father’s heirs, and we grew up together, knowing we’d be expected to rule as a team when we took over. Though it was drilled into us both that whilst it’s important to maintain the peace treaty, we’re still rivals, and should the time ever come, we’d need to take the other out in a heartbeat, or risk them doing the same to us.

Despite knowing this, Jacob still became my best friend. Although our friendship was initially forced on us as a result of familial obligation, it quickly turned into something so much more. We had a lot in common, and we bonded over the pressure we were under.

It wasn’t long before I stopped seeing Jacob as just a friend who was forced on me, and instead he became like a brother to me.

So when he started going off the rails these last few months, of course I’ve been covering for him, hoping like hell too many people don’t notice before I’m able to find out what his problem is and set him straight.

Unfortunately, the wrong people have taken notice before I can sort him out, so now I need to do everything I can to cover for him.

“I’m aware that Caleb and Jacob don’t get on well, and he assures me that he’s handling the issue, but I seem to be hearing new reports of his behaviour almost daily now,” he responds, and I have to bite the inside of my lip to keep from cursing aloud.

With as much composure as I can muster, I ask, “Reports, like what?”

“This weekend, he was seen in our club—Caged—snorting cocaine out of one of the dancers belly button, before trying to fight three security guards who asked him to leave,” he states, disgust dripping from each word.

Both my father and Caleb have always had strict rules, not just for us but all of their employees. The big one is that we’re not supposed to sample the products we ship. Our job is to sell drugs to others, not get hooked on the stuff ourselves.

It was also drilled into us from an early age that the public’s perception of us is everything. The only reason anyone should ever be talking about us is if they fear or respect us.

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