Eric. Eric Eric Eric. For some reason that just sounded so familiar ...

"Who's Eric again?" I asked quizzically.

My father's face turned a beetroot shade of red and he looked ready to explode.

"Eric is your brother!"

My eyes widened in mock amazement. "I have a brother?"

I had to admit, times like this often gave me a brief sense of satisfaction. It was rare that I had an opportunity to be the center of my father's attention, and rarer still that I was able to get under his skin.

But yes, I did have a brother. We only met at mealtimes, and sometimes even not. He was a boy, so his life was far more exciting and freer than mine. And when we did meet, I was bounded by respect to call him brother, even though I was older. He could call me by any name, but most of the time he liked "Oy".

My father looked furious at my jibe, but underlying it all was worry. And trust me when I say only 40% of that worry was for my brother. I didn't know what was going on, but it looked like I was about to find out.

My father stood there for a moment, staring off into the distance - or maybe he was contemplating whether or not he should have another creme brulee - and I could almost see the cogs in his brain whirring. Then he looked at me, and I knew he had already made up his mind. That always happened. He made all the decisions in my life.

"We are leaving." He grasped me by the hand.

"But Louisa hasn't even thrown the bouquet yet ... " I whined as annoyingly as I could.

He ignored me and pulled me away, out of the wedding reception, past the three security guards pretending to be international businessmen, into the elevator and down to the hotel lobby, past the girl at the reception who smiled and had a gun strapped to each thigh, past the four burly security guards who stood undisguised out in the open, as well as the five more that were hidden out of sight. We exited through the revolving doors and acted as if we did not see the three snipers covering the entire front of the building from their positions up on the roofs.

The drive back to the manor was silent. I was tempted to switch on the radio but my finger had barely moved before my father shot me a don't-even-think-about-it look. We reached the manor within fifteen minutes and went through the three security checkpoints. The manor was old and regal with sprawling grounds. One could call it the Blackcroft headquarters. It was prestigious enough that sometimes Blackcroft children would come here on a visit, much like a tour of the White House.

Whoever headed Blackcroft earned the honor of living here with his family. My grandfather had been the successful don of the empire for a whole half of a century, until he passed away two weeks ago. I'm not sorry, the closest contact I've ever had with the man was his photo. Dear Grandpa Anthony had three sons - my Uncle Edward, my dad and my Uncle Ian. All of them and their children lived together in the manor. Louisa was the youngest child of my Uncle Edward, and now that she was married she was moving out. So I would be the only girl in the entire house, except for the mums.

Not that I would even be staying here anymore. With my grandfather dead our branch of Blackcrofts were in jeopardy. If one of my uncles or my dad wasn't made the next don, Louisa was not going to be the only one moving out.

My father led me past my cousins - Uncle Ian's sons - who were messing around in the living room. There were three of them, the eldest my age, and then going down by one year. Do Re Mi was what I liked to call them. Currently Do was arm-wrestling with Re, while his free hand was doing the thumb war with Mi. They didn't even look up as we passed.

We took the grand mahogany staircase to the second floor and my father led me to my bedroom. He opened the door and gestured for me to enter, before following behind. He cast a cautious look around before shutting the door quietly.

My bedroom was my pride. It was about the only place I had freedom in. The wall colours were all my idea, the small bookcase there was filled with books of my choosing, the furniture organized my way. Of course my mother helped a lot, she was the one that managed to persuade my father to let my bedroom be. He wanted to strip it down and convert it to an army barrack in case you were wondering.

My father looked around him. This was unfamiliar territory to him, and knowing that somehow made me bolder. I crossed my arms across my chest. "What is it?"

His steel grey eyes met mine. "I would not have chosen you if I had a choice."

"I think that's a pretty foregone conclusion. Can we cut straight to the point?"

His eyes roamed the room and he pulled up a chair. I remained standing.

"When the don passes away," he began, "there is usually a will left behind."

I nodded. Contrary to what my father thought I wasn't ignorant, though I was ignored. "I know. The will that shows who gets what, as well as the next heir of the empire. And also ... the X-Files."

I know I know, we were just too lazy to come up with a proper name for secret records that must not be revealed to the public eye.

For the first time my father looked a bit impressed. "Yes. Correct. The will decides who will be the next don, unless over half of the Blackcrofts vote against it. Then we go with democratic election."

Which was near impossible. For one, Blackcroft was a huge huge empire, with arms snaking into other countries. Rounding up our people in New York was hard enough, much less getting the people from overseas. Getting half the empire to stand with you and vote against the new leader, meant an international campaign that involved at least four countries. And then there was the problem of the election. The new leader might not be the one you liked.

Secondly, there were the X-Files. It was what the don used to keep the empire in line. It contained all the dirty little secrets of every Blackcroft family, all the skeletons in the cupboards drawn out in black and white. You could get the whole crowd to lobby you just by hinting at the X-Files. They were kept in an unknown vault at an unknown location, which required several unknown passwords to gain access to. All these unknowns were made known in the will.

There actually had been a movement once, that successfully voted out the will's heir and brought in a new one - who was my ancestor. After that the will had always been followed, and hence the don had always been from my family. Blackcroft was founded three hundred years ago. My family had been made dons for the past two hundred years.

Now from the haunted look of my father it seemed as if this track record was about to be broken.

He took in a deep breath. "The will is missing."

I raised an eyebrow. No wonder the family reunions have been a bit more agitated recently. "Let me guess. You sent Eric to find it, and now he's gone MIA?"

My father stood up so fast he almost pushed the chair over.

"I don't think you understand the consequences, Hayley." His syllables dripped with frustration. "With the will, our future is secure, safe. But now ... "

Ah. I see where this is going.

In keeping with the interests of the family, Grandfather would have made sure that all his three sons received high-ranking positions in his will. With the will gone, not only was the throne up for grabs, but several other positions as well. A democratic election will be called, and it was going to be every man for himself, because now everyone had an equal chance to gain status. My uncles would have no problem being strong contenders. Uncle Edward had three children, and even though Louisa was a daughter he still had two sons - both in their early twenties, skilled and capable at what they do. Uncle Ian had the Do Re Mis, and though the eldest was only eighteen they had claimed their share of fame - they only worked with each other on assignments, and their teamwork was epic in every sense. Each one played their own role, and when combined together they were a perfect force.

And what did my father have?

A sixteen-year-old son who was currently missing and a daughter. Who was going to respect him now? Who would take him seriously? He was about to experience a severe drop in popularity.

He needed that will. Most importantly, he needed the X-Files.

"You will take Eric's place. You will find that will for me - and your brother as well." Noticed how he placed the will over Eric?

"But how am I going to do that?" I protested, taking on a tone I knew my father despised. "I'm just a lowly little girl, worthy only of ignorance, completely pathetic and useless and weak - "

"Don't give me that crap!" my father thundered, before lowering his voice back to a hush. "I know she trained you in secret. I know she brought you along to Eric's lessons. And I know that even after she died you continued on!"

All traces of playful humour left me immediately. I stared back at my father, and this time I let my brown eyes drill into his grey ones. Unknowingly my hands had curled into fists.

"She had a name," I hissed.

My father said nothing. I took a step forward. "I said, she had a name!"

"Fine," he snapped. "Your mother then. Julia. Happy?"

Disregarding my incensed glare he went on. "You might not be as good as Eric" - why am I not surprised? - "but you are the only option I have left. We need that will. And you are going to get it."

I folded my arms. "What do I get? If you were counting on family love you better think again. I'm not doing this for free."

"You get a chance to prove yourself. That's what you've always wanted, haven't you? A chance to show that you can be just like the big bad boys. Get the will, find out where the X-Files are, and you'll have the whole empire willing and ready to do whatever you want."

Whatever I want? Sounds fun. Out loud I only said, "I'll have them change the interior decoration of this dead manor then."

"Get the will, and you can create your own fashion label. Deal?"

I paused, thinking. A shot at ruling an empire and an opportunity to see the world outside these miserable walls?

"Deal."

"Good." My father reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, a Blackberry. "The last contact I had from your brother was three days ago, a text updating me. He was supposed to make contact again today, but he missed it. And his phone is switched off. It's been six hours past the appointed time, and something is definitely wrong."

"So where was he last?"

My father smiled, and I didn't like it. "You'll have to be discreet. Go undercover. But don't worry, you'll love it." He showed me the message.

I didn't love it.

It was short and simple. Approaching end of mission, object almost acquired. Communication might be intercepted, will not reveal much. New discovery to be investigated further -

Pambrooke High School.

End of message.

My father looked at me and I could have sworn that he was smirking, thoroughly enjoying it.

"Congratulations Hayley, you're going undercover as a high school student."