Page 20 of Brutal King

5

GIDEON

“You’re leaving, Father?”

“Only for a few days.”

“Please don’t leave me again. You promised to stay this time.”

My father sighed as he dropped down onto a knee in front of me. “I’m building an empire, son. One that will belong to you one day. I cannot stop until it’s done.”

He pulled out the pennies he was so fond of, and flicked one through the air. He caught it between his fingers and handed it to me. “The Ferryman will expect his payment when he returns. Do not lose it.”

“Take me with you. Don’t leave me.”

Sighing, he placed his hands on my shoulders. “I can’t. But know that everything I do, is for you. You understand?”

I nodded and he left. When he returned several days later, he extended his hand, palm up. “Do you still have it?”

“Why do they call you the Ferryman?” I held onto the penny, waiting for his response. When he hesitated, I added, “I read about it. He takes souls across the river in Hades.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “Well, I help transport important things across the river.”

“Do you transport souls?”

His gaze narrowed as he seemed to think on how to answer that. “Sometimes.”

“And they pay you in coins?”

“They must.”

“What about me? I’m your son. Does that mean one day I’ll be the Ferryman?”

“Not if I can help it,” he said sadly. “It’s a curse, you see. One I must break before you grow up.”

“And if you don’t?”

“I will teach you everything you need to know so that you can ensure my work is done. Now, do you have my coin?”

My father’s eyes stare at me from his portrait above the fireplace in my study. Steely and ruthless. It’s the same hard look he had whenever he returned from business, as if whatever he’d done out there clung to him until he stepped through the front door.

It wasn’t until I returned the penny to his palm that the furrow between his brows would ease and something that was completely unreadable to me would cross over his expression.

I replay that now, still wondering what thought had entered his mind as he peered into me. Though I ponder it often, I’ve never solved the mystery.

Reaching into my pocket, I pluck out a coin. The coppery surface has been dulled by the years of handling.

The Ferryman will expect his payment when he returns.

His last words echo through my mind so clearly it’s as if I heard them only yesterday, yet years have passed and the coin remains in my hand because of six men.

Francesco Gianni, Giuseppe Tadesco, Bryan McKenzie, Sean Murphy, Clive Maxton and Sergio Ramos.

They envied my Father’s knack for business and his fast-growing influence in their underworld. They took his life for fear that he might amass enough power to dethrone them, and they unwittingly created something worse.

Father had power and a wide-ranged ambition. He wanted everything for us.

I have power and a single, sharply-focused purpose. Revenge.

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