Page 9 of Ruthless Chaos

He chuckles, then coughs dryly. “Things are dire, Alexander. Your fucking brother’s little stunt has lowered morale among the men.” Another cough rattles his chest. “He had all the plans for this move.”

What he means to say is that with no clear successor, he’s finding it difficult to keep people in line. It’s the law we all live by—seize power when your enemies are weak. Graham was feared the whole country over. He could kill a man in seconds with his bare hands, and nobody was better than him with a knife.

Now that he’s gone, the Empire Syndicate seems like easy pickings. Even our allies are losing faith in us. They would rather divvy up our territory. Just last week there was an attack on one of our warehouses—we lost hundreds of thousands of pounds worth of weapons, product and twelve men.

We’ve yet to find out who it was, but only my father’s inner circle knew of it.

The turf war was supposed to be father’s last piece of the action. His last hurrah. He would retire as King of London’s underworld and Graham would pick up the mantle. Now it’s all fucked. If father doesn’t find a way to regain control of the Empire and win this war, he’ll lose everything he spent the last six decades building.

All the money, all the night clubs and hotels,all the influence.

I’m almost sympathetic.

“You’re going to have to step up,” he says, a plume of smoke rising from his lips. “I sent you to that school to learn how to be a better man, but also to make the connections we need to keep the Empire alive.”

I want to scowl, but I keep my face straight.

My father didn’t care what I did, only that I worked in the family business. Saint Frederic was my choice—he only allowed it. For him to act like this was all part of his master plan is a slap in a face.

My own desire for true power, for a reputation thattrulybelonged to me is what got me to where I am. Not my father’s fucking wishes.

I look down at the ring on my index finger—the Kingmaker Signet Ring. I suffered to get it. Bled for it. Fought to the death and came out on top. As Head Kingmaker for the past two years, I’ve shown myself to be the most fearsome man among the offspring of the world’s most dangerous people. I’ve retained my title twice.

The third time is the charm, they say.

Saint Frederic University is one of the seven universities in the world with a branch of the Kingmaker House—a fraternity sponsored by the Kingmaker Society. Members of the House are eligible to be inducted into the Kingmaker Society, a worldwide brotherhood comprised of the world’s most powerful men.

The perks and connections that come from being part of the Kingmaker Society would do more than save the Empire, it would elevate me to royalty. I could easily help my father gain total control of London’s underworld in the space of a few months.

If I retain my title as Head Kingmaker for a third time—I would be one of only three brothers to ever do so in the House’s three-hundred-year history—my spot in the Kingmaker Society would be almost guaranteed.

Well, provided I pass their rigorous initiation.

“I haven’t lost sight of my goal, sir.” I say through gritted teeth.

He huffs, taking a long drag of the cigarette.

Father’s grey eyes are tinged with something akin to helplessness. He does a good job of hiding his feelings behind his all-consuming rage, but I’ve come to see his anger and volatility for what it really is—fear. He’s scared as shit.

His entire future is now resting on my shoulders. Me, his spare. Growing up, Graham was father’s favorite child, and I was mom’s. Father never missed an opportunity to remind me what a pussy I was for having the interests I did.

The situation we’re in right now is his worst nightmare.

Does he regret some of the choices he made? Does he wish he had treated mom and I differently, better even? When he’s alone at night, I hope the guilt suffocates him too.

“I know you’ll make me proud, son,” he says, showing his teeth. “You always have.”

As we walk towards the SUV, I force down the disgust that arises from his words. I’ve always made him proud, huh? I wonder how different my life would have been had I heard those words from him ten years ago. Not just now, when he needs to salvage our broken relationship. Perhaps I would have become a different man.

Perhaps I would be less like him.

Shrugging off the hatred coming over me, I set my mask in place.

We get in the SUV and begin the journey back to our penthouse in the city. I’m counting down the hours until I get back to Saint Frederic University. As much as I hate allowing myself to feel hopeful about anything, I’m looking forward to getting on that flight to Switzerland tomorrow.

Saint Frederic University is more than just a school to me. It’s my haven. More of a home to me than anywhere else. All nine hundred acres of the campus are my kingdom. At SFU, I’m not Griffin Duke’s second son. No, I’m Alexander Duke—leader of the most coveted secret society and king of the campus.

By itself, that’s amazing. Yet the start of a new school year brings new students. I’ll hold the futures of the hundreds of Kingmaker hopefuls—we call them Associates—in the palm of my hand. I’ll have countless opportunities to make use of my power. I’ve even been toying with the idea of finally availing myself of one of the perks of being on the Kingmaker Council—taking a Courtesan.