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Silver, gold, bronze and copper.
One invitation.
One chance to make a difference.
To become a brother.
Welcome to the Wicked Chase, a game for brothers and participants.
After all, wouldn’t you want a chance for more wealth?
The rules are easy—you only need to last for two hours in the woods of Monterrey Castle.
We. Are. Privileged.
This is for all of you who think that the world doesn’t hold a place for secret societies that are lead by greed and the hunger for more.
Think again.
PRELUDE
Edouard
Revenge.
The word comes from the Old French revenger, from the Late Latin revindicare, meaning “to protect,” “to avenge,” or “to punish.”
Punishment.
It's never been this tangible, its flavour so sweet, even months before the actual killing took place. Before I hunted the old priest through the house of God and carved him up, slitting his throat and stealing his gold. The gold that I absolutely didn’t need, but that found its own, unique purpose later on in life. A small chunk of it transformed into a tooth, the rest into beautiful cuffs to hold him there where I wanted, mon petit amour.
That Ascencion morning, Father Benoît made a string of mistakes, starting with him being in the wrong place at the wrong time, namely outside the church way before we were supposed to start preparing for service. But what really brought my blood to boiling temperature, was the way he had looked at my boy, who sat kneeling front of me, with my cock fucking his mouth. His perfect suction brought me to climax within no time, my stare right back at Father Benoît. The way he’d grinned…
Mistake.
Later, when service had started, and we, altar servers, were all lined up, Father Benoît made the worst error of his life.
Retribution.
He had made my pet stand in front of the altar and apologize to God and all the altar boys for his sins. But…Father Benoît punished the wrong kid. This was Romain Lefèbvre.
My Romain.
And we went back, him and I. We went back a long time, ever since Dad had exchanged his freedom for his mother’s debts. We went back even before that.
Although we came from the same town, we couldn’t have been more different. Romain lived in an impoverished trailer park by the edge of town with Blanche, his mother, the local junkie who did all sorts of work for us in an attempt to pay back the debt she created with us. I was the eldest son of the Beaumont family, and we owned the place. The town, the region, the entire country. We run the most solid high-end drugs transport business and provide a variety of secondary services, including killers for hire. We work with the most privileged families of our country, the self-proclaimed Gods, which is why we go to church every week. Gotta keep connected to the other Gods, right?
No, aside from both being altar boys and attending the same high school, Romain and I had nothing in common. But that changed on that sunny day, two years before Father Benoît, or should I say, the late Father Benoît, punished Romain for his actions.
You see, on that sunny day, those years earlier, Romain came ringing on our door, an innocent, sixteen year old fool. Messy dark hair and thickly lashed eyes. Ratty clothes that looked to be second hand. Filthy sneakers his mom probably found him in the trash. An apologetic, polite smile on that serious face. A voice sweet and soft that sounded like music to my ears as he profusely apologised for the lack of money.
They could pay it back next week, he said. Manuel Perrera, my father’s right hand, pretended to contemplate his decision with a smirk. One look my way and I knew what he thought: this was going to be fun.
“I already have some money. I clean cars in my free time.” Romain tore on the velcro of his cheap as fuck wallet and looked inside. “Here’s twenty euros.”
“Twenty euros?” Manuel huffed, but I beat him to any further comments.
“Do you know how much money your mother needs for her drink every week?” When he heard my question, Romain’s gaze finally shifted to mine, eyes widening as if he only just saw me leaning there, a coffee in one hand, a cigarette in the other. When he blushed, I felt like the king in the world.
