I got into the passenger’s side and my father started to drive. We left the house and were soon on the network of roads that ran through the heart of London.

My father was Dennis Simpson.

The world saw him as the chief executive officer of a boat company. He dealt with all kinds of boats and jet-skis and was a top seller in the field. He also had a few of his own which we sometimes took for rides along the Thames when he was in a good mood.

I saw him as the leader of one of the area’s most powerful gangs. He was a ruthless man who only cared about the best way to make the most money and stay under the radar of the authorities. Yes, he had rivals, but I didn’t know much about them. What my father usually taught me about was how to make sure the gang functioned, which included removing the worms he had in his own gang. Being over a hundred and something members large, it was easy not to notice someone who decided to turn their back on the gang and either plot its downfall with a rival gang or with the police.

Only a handful of people out of the over a hundred members of North Bank gang knew my father. Two were his second men in command and I didn’t know their real names, just that they went by their gang names Trout and Curly. The rest of the gang only knew that the leader, of the gang they belonged to, went by the name Black Duke. It was the perfect way of insulation. My father only communicated with Trout and Curly who dealt with the rest of the gang though their own network of hierarchy that ran all the way down to teens, just a few years older than me, who physically dealt the product to clients and earned a lot more cash doing so than they would with a normal part-time job.

I’d never seen my father kill anyone before, but he talked about it as if it were nothing to my mother and me. He didn’t really talk about that side to the gang life to Landon and the others, perhaps they were too young to be trusted to keep their mouths shut. The triplets were only five after all. They probably wouldn’t even believe him. I knew better.

***

We arrived at one of the labs. It was a warehouse which my father owned, but underneath the racing boats and jet-skis, were masses of the product that my father dealt with. It was all cut down, packed up and ready to be distributed beneath the ground. He had workers down in the lab nearly every single day.

My father cut the engine of the car. Two others were already there and I knew they belonged to Trout and Curly who had probably bought some of their own men with them.

“Today’s lesson,” my father spoke. “Don’t trust anyone and eliminate all competition.”

I wanted to say that I already knew that. He made it clear from all the times he’d ranted and raged about double-crossers and back-stabbers. Getting rid of them seemed like something he did often.

“Including family,” he added and I widened my eyes and looked at him.

“Don’t make that face, Phoenix,” he rubbed my shoulder. “If a family member makes a wrong move, you give them a warning. If they continue to think they can cross you and you’d let it slide just because they’re family, then you draw the line.”

“Uncle Jordan,” I murmured, my hands starting to sweat.

“Good boy,” he ruffled my hair. “That weasel has been a pain in my neck for years now. He just pulled the last straw.”

“What did he do?” I frowned at my father, horrified at the idea that he was going to have his own brother killed.

My father smiled, “Let’s just say he was caught trying to build his own little business out of mine. I can’t have added competition, especially if they’re stealing from me in the first place. I don’t tolerate thieves.”

My heart was pounding and I looked down at my hands. I traced the faint scar in one of my palms that my father had given me when I was seven. It had been his little initiation that he’d made me partake in, because I was the oldest and was going to be his successor. It had meant to teach me not to be afraid of blood, my own especially. Being a leader meant that you would bleed, but you would overcome and press on.

“Come on,” my father opened his car door and stepped out.

I followed suit and walked on trembling legs towards the warehouse. Trout, with his distinctive large nose, and Curly, with his afro, met my father and they exchanged a few words. They nodded at me and sent me small smiles. I returned only the nod.