Page 14 of The Quarterlands (Dark Water #4)

“They were, considering the mess we’re in. I’m just glad that Lytton AV will survive, in some form at least. It broke my heart to think of all those IS contracts being sold on. The people here are a family, a community.”

“I understand,” Tyler said crisply.

“Your promise to keep things running as they did before – initially at least – was very welcome. I know the balance sheet didn’t justify that commitment, so we’re all very grateful.”

“Not at all. Anything to help my old friend Noah,” Tyler murmured. “Alexander, let me introduce you. You are looking at the new owner of Lytton AV!” Tyler’s eyes were sparkling with glee.

“You bought my father’s company?” Alex was shocked, but his mask stayed firmly in place, his eyes vacant.

“Yup, down to the last debt, of which there were many.” Tyler shot him a triumphant look. When would he stop expecting the blows to land? Alex was giving him nothing, but still he tried.

Countless people lined up to shake Tyler’s hand, and then there were some interminable speeches which Alex tuned out.

He could barely hear anything anyway; the words of his song were filling his mind, drowning out everything as he stood beside Tyler, his face devoid of emotion.

Tyler was the new lord and master of Lytton AV.

He didn’t just own Alex, he owned everything that should have been his – his birthright, his inheritance.

It was all Tyler’s now. The Lyttons were finished – Tyler had completely obliterated them.

Finally, all the niceties were over. Dismissing his staff, Tyler took Alex’s hand and led him up the stairs.

It was a journey he knew all too well. Last time he’d been here, Tyler had forced him to wear that humiliating outfit.

This time, he was dressed like Alex Lytton, the son of the owner, only that wasn’t who he was anymore.

Now, he was Alexander Tyler , the property of the owner.

“Your father couldn’t keep it afloat,” Tyler said gleefully as he led him down hallways full of ghosts. He’d played on those stairs as a child, sat under that desk with his crayons drawing pictures. He’d worked here and sold his soul here. This place was in his DNA, etched into him.

“Of course, it should have been yours,” Tyler said, smiling. “All this should have been yours, Alexander.” He stopped outside Noah’s office, gazing at Alex keenly, always searching for the chink in his armour.

“No,” Alex said.

“No?” Tyler’s eyes were bright with the scent of victory. Alex could see that he thought he’d finally cracked his facade and landed a blow.

“I don’t deserve it, and it deserves better. It deserves someone who’ll make a success of it. It deserves you ,” Alex told him firmly.

Tyler sighed. “You could have made it successful,” he murmured. “You had it in you.”

“No. I’m a dreamer, an artist. All I wanted was to design ducks. You’re a businessman. You understand the reality of making money. Lytton AV has a future with you that it never would have had with me.”

Tyler’s eyes were dark and intense. He’d wanted his victory acknowledged so much and now he looked overcome.

“Your father ran this company into the ground. He was always a hopeless businessman. I’ll restore it to its rightful place.

You might think, given our history, that I don’t care about Lytton AV, but you’d be wrong,” Tyler said fiercely.

“My father gave his life to this place, and I respect its role in the history of the Rising. It was Lytton ducks that got everyone moving again in the years immediately after. I want you to know that I’ll never subsume it into the Tyler brand.

It will always remain its own entity, with its own name.

That is my anniversary present to you, my love.

” He wrapped his arm around Alex’s shoulder, opened the office door, and pushed him inside.

As Alex glanced around his father’s office, he was surprised to find that he felt nothing.

It was just an office. He remembered the self-involved boy he’d once been, full of pride and the need to prove himself to his father, to heal the wound of his mother’s death.

That boy could never have taken over here and made a success of it.

He could see now how much sense it had made for his father to insist he learn the business first from the bottom up.

He’d been too impatient, too blinded by his own guilt and grief, to see that at the time.

It had been hard, and he’d learned some bitter lessons along the way, but he’d finally grown up.

He gazed dispassionately around the room, taking in the imposing black leather chair behind the desk where his father used to sit, and the framed photo of Theo Lytton and Will Tyler shaking hands in front of the first Lytton Classic.

There were other pictures on the wall: a nanoprint of a cartoon that Noah had found funny, a holopic of Charles winning his gold medal with Isobel beside him, both of them beaming with happiness, and various other photos, holopics, and paintings that held meaning for him.

“Is my father still alive?” Alex asked quietly as he walked around the room, looking at all the pictures. He dreaded the answer and was angry at himself for wanting to know .

“Yes, but his health has declined, and your idiot brother was never going to be able to run the place.”

“No, Charles would be useless at it.” Alex smiled at the thought of his good-natured, easy-going brother trying to run a company this complicated.

He stopped in front of an ancient Pre-R print his father had loved.

Noah was a Sherlock Holmes fan, and it depicted Holmes and Moriarty fighting on the edge of the Reichenbach Falls.

The image had been on this wall for years, and it felt so old and familiar, so normal, when nothing about this was normal.

“It was too much for Noah. The company was on the verge of bankruptcy when I stepped in with a generous offer. I was their only hope. Nobody else wanted it,” Tyler continued.

“Thank you,” Alex said sincerely. He ran over to Tyler and wrapped his arms around him. “Thank you so much for saving it, sir. Thank you for buying it and helping all these people. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Tyler put his hands on his shoulders, pushed him back, and looked him in the eyes. “I didn’t do it for them. I did it for you, my love.” He tipped Alex’s chin back and kissed him sweetly on the lips.

Maybe he had, although whether to break him apart or whether to please him was another matter.

It didn’t matter. At least all the indies at Lytton AV wouldn’t have to suffer for the sins of the Lytton family.

Tyler would, no doubt, make some sweeping and unpleasant changes, but Lytton AV would survive – and probably thrive – with Tyler at the helm.

Tyler walked jauntily over to Noah’s desk and paused dramatically, then took his seat behind it, clearly savouring every second of his victory. He looked happier than Alex had ever seen him. Finally, he had the one thing he’d always wanted.

Alex could see the angry child inside him, the son of an IS, watching the Lyttons exploit his father’s gentle nature and make a fortune from his hard work.

That had always been Tyler’s narrative, and now, finally, he’d slain the Lytton dragon and seized what was rightfully his.

It should have hurt to see him there, but Alex found he didn’t care .

“So how does it feel to be back?” Tyler asked.

“As if all is right with the world,” he replied, smiling. He wondered if Gideon would think it indulgent of him to use this opportunity to find out more about his family, but decided to do it anyway. “My father, does he have enough to live on?” he ventured.

Tyler shrugged. “He’s not wealthy anymore. The company was a mess. I was generous, but it had a great many debts. He’ll get by, no doubt, but the good times are over. Still, I’d never let him starve, Alexander. You know that.”

Oh yes. Alex was quite sure Tyler would step in and buy his father’s soul, if he could.

“But… The Orchard… that wasn’t part of the deal?” he asked, trying to keep the worry out of his voice.

“No, The Orchard is still his, although I believe it’s mortgaged up to the hilt.

Your father is impoverished, Alex, but please believe me, that’s more of his making than mine.

I didn’t go after him. He came to me.” Alex looked up sharply.

“You’re surprised? Don’t be. Your father is a true Lytton.

He’d do anything to keep this place alive, even sell it to his oldest enemy.

Now, if he’d had a bright and astute son who could have taken over and helped him after his stroke, then it might have been a different story, but it wasn’t to be. ”

“No. I wasn’t a good son. It’s better this way,” Alex said softly.

Tyler gazed at him for a long time, but if he was hoping he’d break down, show him the raw emotion he craved and reveal the self that Belvedere had taught him to hide, then he was to be disappointed; Alex was too well practised in his deception for that.

He just smiled vacantly, and the light faded from Tyler’s eyes.

“Come over here and suck me off,” he ordered curtly.

Alex was almost relieved by the order, glad of the chance to hide.

He slid under the desk to bury himself in the task and was not in the least embarrassed when Wainright popped his head around the door and caught them in the act.

He was Tyler’s whore and he only had himself to blame.

He’d long since made peace with it. It could have been him sitting behind this desk, but he’d thrown his life away.

It didn’t matter. He wasn’t important anymore and hadn’t been since the moment Solange died. She was the only one who mattered now .