Chapter 15: Genetic Acid

I had left during the early risings of the sun and headed for the workroom. I spent the whole morning drafting up plans and arrangements for the upcoming gala. The pain in my neck was a tell-tale sign that I needed to stop and take a break.

The Waitstill Gala was something of an annual event that caused chaos between the upper class and lower class alike. The poor fighting to serve during the grandiose evening festivities be it, food and beverage, busboys, clothes threading, patisseries, or even the wine connoisseurs. The rich doing all they can to gain the selective and exclusive invitation. The selection process was one that went through filters that removed even the most unseen potential of chaos. It had to be, not everyone could gain the knowledge of the underworkings of father's company and we had to ensure that no moles or government officials that weren't on our side attended.

The missing cases of the young boys and girls around the provinces and lower districts were slowly becoming a complication. I was going to try and convince Father to move the date further along the year. To try and keep us covered for a longer time. Yet, it just so happened that the Gala date fell rather purposefully on Finn's eighteenth birthday. My father being my father was going to use this overlap to celebrate his coming of age.

I huffed a sigh of contempt. There was no possible way he was going to change date, but I had to try.

I gathered the documents that lay on my desk, and stacked them to the right before heading out. Adjusting the top of my collared white shirt, and making sure my hair wasn't a top mess - I exited the workroom and made way to my Father's office.

I passed the entrance to the main hall and walked down to where the game room was, because opposite that was the office. On my way there, I passed the servant's quarters that conjoined to their bath houses. Father made that section of the house before he even knew he was going to use The Ivy. Originally, the slaves were to be brought here for recruitment and sterilization. After my mother's pleas, he found a new place to keep the bodies after their capture.

I stopped short when I saw Uncle Henley slip out of the wide door from the far exit of the bath house. I frowned and detoured to walk towards where he was. He turned and had a small smirk on his face before he noticed me. I saw his body jump a little, before relaxing and grinning up at me.

"Blast a nut, son. You startled me."

"Hello, Uncle Henley. What are you doing here? Not that your presence isn't always a gratification." I smiled up at him. I saw that he was alone. Not knowing if he left his pet at home or if Casey was with her mistress - I didn't ask. Confused, by why he was coming out of the bath houses, I guessed he might have left Casey there to freshen up.

He looped his arm around mine and walked me back to where I was originally going. "Nick beckons and I arrive, Micah. It's genetic."

I laughed and walked to my father's office with him. "Something went wrong with our genes, Uncle. I wouldn't look into it..."

"Oh I certainly would."

_________

When we entered my father's office, he was packing up his work and didn't even flinch when we came in

When we entered my father's office, he was packing up his work and didn't even flinch when we came in. Putting his documents and assorted receipts into a leather briefcase, he stepped away from his desk and walked toward the door.

"I have a carriage waiting, gentlemen. If you would kindly accompany me-" he said before a short laugh erupted from my Uncle's throat.

"Leave it to you to be such a cold sod, Nicholas. Where exactly are you inviting us to?"

The whole ordeal didn't startle nor surprise me. Being the oldest son and the next in line to take over, I was trained to pick up and follow wherever my father needed me. He often didn't even ask if it worked well with my schedule.

Nick beckons and I arrive, Micah.

"Where the hell is that girl?! Egerton!" he called before dashing past us and out to the main foyer. "Where the hell is Blythe?"

Both Uncle Henley and I trailed behind him and I saw Blythe dart from the gameroom to where my father stood. "Sorry, master I was attending to your son." She knelt in front of him and the air coming from her looked to be short bursts of fear.

My father turned around and looked to my uncle before we all ventured out. "We will be going to the The Ivy. I need to decide on the batches before the Gala and since my son has so graciously put a halt to things, I need to find another route around capturing in the near future."

A brief huff of relief came out of me and all four of us headed for the exit of the house, down the front stairs and into the carriage. Blythe made herself comfortable atop my father's lap and it was only a couple minutes before her tits were out and rubbing against the scruff of his neck. I looked away and looked at the passing streets as we made our way to the city's very own hellhole.

The Ivy was a storehouse that my father bought in an attempt to please my mother. It worked wonders to his children, who no longer saw distress in young men and women as they were brought into the home. But it did nothing to soothe the inside of my Mother's brain. Ignorance was not something she was strong at, and I saw that the only way her sadness rid itself from her body when I was 12. I shook the thoughts off my mind and entered the vertical metal door that had to be pulled up for people to enter.

The around-the-clock guards greeted my dad with stiff agitation and the minute we walked in, Uncle Henley took off his coat and Father opened his briefcase on the narrow table that was situated in the middle.

My eyes caught sight of the place and took it in slowly. This was the first time my father let me accompany him. I had never been, only heard the terrors that happened within it. The name of the storehouse came from my mother. Initially, everyone just called it the storage cabinet - trying to find the irony of the situation. Soon, my mother started referring to it after the poisonous flowering plant. Which in my mind was the most ironic name it could possibly have.

The glass container that was placed in the middle of the house reached the ceiling, with no visible entrance or exit. Knowing my father, he would be smart enough to establish every hidden and medieval technique so that the women and men that were entrapped felt even more suffocated in their hopes for escape.

She had been here.

The thought made me frown. The image of kitten laying cold on the floor, opening her lids to a glass encasement filled me with a short burst of anger. I shivered against the feeling and looked to where my father and uncle were sitting down. There were a few men that had joined the table whilst I was in my own thoughts and I saw that they were discussing something about the gala.

I needed to speak now or forever hold my fucking peace.

"Father, perhaps we should consider moving the date."

My voice broke the tumultuous voices that were deep in conversation, and all heads turned to where I was standing. Everyone save for my father looked to be shocked in remembering that I was still present.

"Why would I even think of doing that, Micah?" His voice gave way suspicion. He knew I had an ulterior motive, my task was to cloak it well enough for him not to understand why it was there in the first place.

"The same reason we put a stop to business."

"No, son. You put a stop to business. This gala will go on, it's not up for discussion. The invites will be sent out soon. Cherry has already informed the highers that the Waitstill Manor will be open once again for the annual event." my father spoke with exasperated calm, as if he already had this conversation multiple times in his head.

I walked forward to the table and placed both palms on the varnished wood. "Gentlemen, I assume all of you like your jobs? Like keeping your wives warm and your children fed during the winter?"

My father sat back on his chair and crossed his arms in front of his chest. My uncle started to snicker and looked to my father with a blatant Like Father, Like Son look of amusement.

No one spoke. So I carried on.

"The moment someone from the safety social council or the superior law breaches this little harlot operation we have going on, all of that will be taken away like the skin on your back when it's put upon the whipping post. Your wives will start to seek fuller lives elsewhere and your children will be left to starve. These are dark times, sirs. We must not face them with spotlights that shine out our arses." I spoke with the same authority I heard and learned from my father while I was growing up. I saw my mother's frowned face in front of me, yet like the devil I was produced on, I moved all thought of her away and carried on.

"Move the date. Let the superior law use their little mole in the city and come out with nothing. Let the gala commence in another month or so, when business isn't on a thread that goes as thing as your cocks. It's the smarter thing to do, and while I look forward to the gala more than anything," the image of Finn fucking a pet in front of an audience intruded my mind and I nearly lost all power in my body, I pushed on. "Move it."

The few men that were at the end of the table looked to each other and then at my father, afraid. Good, fear was something I could work with. Fear was always something that I could work with. It was attached to me like the bones in my body, all I needed to do was lift my arm and the power yielded.

Everyone began to murmur and discuss what I had just approached. Everyone except my father. He looked at me with eyes that I couldn't sort from pride or distrust. My uncle slowly started clapping from across from him and he was the first to break the onslaught of murmurs after my little pitch.

"You got to hand it to the lad, Nicholas. He could really convince a pig, a whole farm of pigs to get down on their hind legs and eat their own tail."

My dad broke the stare he held on me and looked towards my Uncle and then the table.

"There is no discussion to be had, gentlemen. The Gala goes as planned. That will be the final word about it."