The Girl in the Wych Elm (III)

 

III. The Men of the High Tower (re-upload)

The town of Wych Elm seemed like an idyllic place to live at first sight. It wasn’t too large, and it was relatively quiet. Wych Elm was the type of cozy town often romanticized in movies. The kind of town everyone sought to live within. Unfortunately, its outward appearance was a façade that hid a terrifying reality. Wych Elm wasn’t a cozy, coastal town of peace. It was a cage.

For almost twenty decades, the five infamous High Families of Wych Elm controlled and dominated every political sector and corner of the region. The town was geographically isolated, which helped preserve the High Families reins of unchecked power for so long. Their influence, affluence, and infamy proceeded them far and wide. Ishmael DeSanguis, Lucia Lightwood, Donovan Ashermann, Solomon of the Silver Hightowers and Alexander of the Crimson Hightowers held the highest seats of authority within Wych Elm.

Since the town’s beginning, the DeSanguis family had always served as the town’s enforcers of law in positions such as the sheriff, sheriff’s deputies, security, and so on. The Aschermanns’ were a family of multi-generational physicians, surgeons, and other healthcare professionals. Wych Elm Memorial, the only hospital in town, was owned and operated by them alone; their health system also included five ancillary clinics scattered around the town and region. The non-denominational church of Our Lady of Light was operated by the Lightwoods, who were all members of the clergy. The last two families, the Hightowers, held the greatest power and authority above the other three families. None were as despised and feared more than them.

About a century prior, the Hightowers were once a singular family who became fractured as the years passed by. Endless deceit, dissent, and turmoil tore the Hightower family apart. Eventually, that one family became two. The Crimson Hightowers of Old Cahawba, the ancestral estate of the original family, was headed by Alexander Hightower. Members of their clan historically held all the municipal positions within the town. Their “patriarchs” always served as the Mayors of Wych Elm. The Silver Hightowers of West Eden, a sprawling estate outside the town’s limits, held all judiciary and related positions. Solomon Hightower was their patriarch; he and his predecessors always served as the head Judges of Wych Elm.

Despite their shared surname, however, the Crimson and Silver Hightowers regarded one another with disdain. Their amicable split did little to mitigate their rivalry, tension, and hostility over the years. In fact, it old worsened an already festering wound. The aggressive feud between the two families would not end until one Hightower clan remained.

 

The portrait of Vander Willem Hightower, the first serving patriarch of the Crimson Hightowers, was memorialized on the wall of the grand parlor. Alexander stood beneath the large painting, looking up at his ancestor whose cold eyes seemed to look down upon him disapprovingly. “Don’t make me burn you.” Alexander lightheartedly threatened the object. He couldn’t stand when someone looked down on him, even his own ancestor.

“Mr. Hightower, Judge Solomon Hightower and his guests have arrived. I have them waiting in the great hall.” The butler notified from the archway.

Alexander clasped his hands together in delight. “Lovely. Let them know I’ll be in shortly.” The butler nodded then left to complete the request. Alexander looked up at the portrait of Vander once again. “I’ll be expecting an angry visit from you in my mirror later tonight.” He chuckled, flicking the lighter in his hand.

Solomon placed a hand on Dorian’s restless thigh. “Stop fidgeting.” He calmly demanded of his younger brother. Restless movements irritated him, especially when they came from Dorian. His brother had been like that since they were children. Solomon hated it back then and still did. “You should have stayed home if you couldn’t be patient.” The restless leg movements stopped immediately.

“Sorry, Solomon. Sometimes I do it unconsciously.” Dorian straightened his tie. “Much as I hate this place, I didn’t want you here by yourself.” Dorian wasn’t impatient; he was unnerved. No one else seemed to notice it, but Old Cahawba had a dark energy about it. There were goosebumps all over his skin. Dorian never liked Old Cahawba, and he definitely didn’t like being inside its walls. The nervous man tried his best to ignore the dark energy.

“Why are you sweating so hard?” Horatio, who sat in the row behind them, poked his head forward between their chairs.

Dorian looked away. “It’s nothing.”

“I appreciate you coming, but your presence wasn’t needed. I brought Christian and Horatio with me as I always do.” Solomon replied dryly to Dorian’s statement.

He whispered under his breath, “Yeah… I know…”

Solomon, assuming Dorian had said something slick, turned his entire body towards his brother. “What did you-?”

Alexander and his party entered the hall. “Solomon!” The man greeted with arms wide open. “You’re actually here.” He was surprised Solomon actually came to Old Cahawba. He anticipated the invite being brushed off.

Solomon rose to greet him properly. “Alexander.” He wouldn’t embrace Alexander but offered his hand instead. Alexander poked out his lip, seemingly disappointed.

“Welcome home, Solomon. Doesn’t it feel good?” Solomon yanked his hand out of Alexander’s grasp. A scowl formed on his face to Alexander’s amusement.

“Always with the jokes huh, Alexander? You can’t ever be normal.” Solomon returned to his seat. “Anyways, why did you have me come to this wretched estate of yours? He asked, crossing his legs. “We always do this over the phone.” Solomon eyed his counterpart suspiciously. The High Families’ annual Masquerade Ball was approaching; it was always held on the Summer Solstice for their wealthy associates, business partners, and sponsors. As Solomon mentioned, preparations were done via phone calls, e-mails, and assistants due to the longstanding hostility between the Hightower clans. Alexander had surprisingly accomplished what no Hightower patriarch had done in decades: a civil sit-down.

The mayor pulled up his chair to the table. His body position mirrored Solomon’s. “It’s nice to see family once in a while, no?” The mayor said in a disingenuous tone. Solomon glowered at Alexander. The two men became locked in an intense stare down with the other.

The Hightower patriarchs were oil and fire, two contrasting forces when brought together left a devastating impact. Alexander was the charismatic of the two; he was always cheerful and laidback. His outward demeanor was a front for a sadistic man who enjoyed toying with people’s lives, even those of his own family members. Everything was a twisted game to Alexander. And everyone was expendable to him. The Mayor of Wych Elm was a ruthless individual who answered to no one and always got what he desired by any means necessary. The trait Solomon detested the most about the man was his prideful nature. He found it annoying and wished his counterpart was humbler.

Unlike Alexander, Solomon was usually reserved with a more apathetic outlook on the world. He navigated life and led his family through the lens of an isolationist. Solomon didn’t want himself or his clan involved in matters that neither affected them nor benefited them personally. His cold, rigid nature bothered Alexander, who often wished he would loosen up some and enjoy life while he still drew breath. While Alexander enjoyed sowing seeds of chaos for personal enjoyment and entertainment, Solomon staunchly upheld authority and order by all means.

Their contrasting personalities aside, both men were alike in many ways. They shared some traits like they did a last name. Solomon was just as cruel and sadistic as Alexander; the latter was just more open and shameless about it. Both men not only thought they were better than the other, but they also thought they were better than the other High Families, often looking down on them in contempt. Alexander and Solomon desired, above all else, absolute dominion over the town of Wych Elm and its residents.

Dorian grew tired of Alexander’s beating around the bush and called him out. “Can you just cut the shit, Alexander? Why did you really call us here?” He addressed the mayor boorishly, imprudently crossing his arms.

“Well, you,” he pointed at Dorian, “I’m not exactly sure why you’re here. I only request Solomon. The rest of you aren’t that important.” He waved his hand dismissively.

The hot-headed man became furious. “Not the time.” Christian and Horatio grabbed onto Dorian before he leapt out of his seat.

“Solomon’s little puppy is awfully yappy, isn’t he, Victor?” Virgil leaned over and whispered to his fraternal twin. They were Alexander’s older brothers. Victor was a relatively tall man with brunette hair, hazel eyes, a moustache, and a deep voice. Virgil was tall as well, although shorter than Victor. His hair was jet black and his eyes were crystal blue. He preferred a clean shaven appearance. Virgil’s voice was slightly higher pitched than Victor’s. Even though they weren’t identical, their appearances still favored one another. The twins shared the same unwavering loyalty and overprotectiveness towards Alexander as Dorain did towards Solomon.

Victor, smirking, replied, “You know what they say about little dogs Victor: they always think they’re bigger than they really are.” He stifled his laughter with his sleeve.

The twins jumping in with their insulting comments only fanned the flames of Dorian’s anger.  “You bastards better watch your mouths.” He gritted through his teeth. Horatio and Christian found themselves in an aggressive tug-o-war with Dorian who tried to climb over the table.

Horatio commanded Dorian to sit down. “You’re reacting exactly how they want you to.” He told Solomon’s irate brother not to entertain the twins and their remarks. If Dorian was there for Solomon, as he previously stated, then no one else should have mattered. Dorian’s attitude and short temper had been an ongoing problem to Solomon. The patriarch wished his younger brother had stayed home.  

Victor, a devious glint in his eyes, leaned on the table. “You need to really watch your mouth, Dorian. You’re in the presence of the Mayor of Wych Elm.”

Virgil chimed in too. “Where’s your respect? I see why Solomon doesn’t let you out of the house much. You haven’t been trained properly still.”

The back and forth between the three men began to rile up the other Hightowers present. Alexander’s clan demeaned their Silver Hightower counterparts at every opportunity, treating them as if they were inferior. They (the Crimsons) believed they were the original Hightowers and that Solomon’s branch had split off from them. No historical information or records had been available to support their claim; it was pure speculation. Neither clan actually knew who was the original and who was the cast off. That topic and the accompanying attitudes were responsible for a majority of their petty squabbling.

“Your mayor’s a bastard…” Dorian’s mouth curved into a smile after the words left his mouth. He had been itching for the longest to call Alexander one. The derogative comment had the Crimson Hightowers outraged. They cursed him which subsequently resulted in the room erupting into a boisterous argument. Each side accused the other of being disrespectful first.

Elias of the Crimson Hightowers shook his head with disapproval. The two clans couldn’t make it thirty minutes without a fight. He reached down and searched his satchel for the bottle of aspirin he kept. “Well, I expected this to happen.” Elias said on a dissatisfied sigh. He took two pills and chased them with alcohol. “I knew I should have sat this meeting out.” The man regretted his decision deeply. The arguments, insults, and shouting were overstimulating.

Horatio covered his face, mortified by everyone’s unruly behavior. “Even though this may be the very last time both clans are all in a room together, Dorian’s staying home next time.”

“Christ’s sake! We’re supposed to be damn Hightowers! Why are we acting like raging drunks in a bar fight?” Christian announced he was ready to go home. “I’m going to miss Vivianne’s bedtime.” He looked at his watch. Christian wished the meeting had been a phone call to avoid all the commotion.

“Having Victor, Dorian, and Virgil in the same room was downright irresponsible and dumb.” The comment came from another Crimson Hightower member. He wasn’t wrong about his statement. All three men were too ill-tempered and prone to physical violence. It was almost as if they were compelled to antagonize one another when present.

Alexander and Solomon had largely ignored the fighting, sitting quietly in the hopes it would resolve quickly. When it didn’t, they decided to intervene. The noise settled when the patriarchs raised their hands and yelled, “Be quiet.”

Solomon yanked Dorian back down into his chair and reprimanded him. “Enough with your disruptions, Dorian.” The man was taken aback by the reprimand.

He argued with his brother. “I didn’t start the argument-”

“I don’t care, Dorian. You know I dislike rambunctious noise and behavior.” He told Dorian he was just as complicit as Victor and Virgil were. He could have shrugged off their insults but instead he kept going, despite both Horatio and Christian warning him not to engage. “Now sit down and shut the hell up.” As punishment for his unsightly behavior, Solomon made Dorian swap seats with Christian. He had to sit in the row behind Solomon like a child, which pissed him off. Dorian crossed his arms and sank down in his seat.

“Like the obedient puppy he is…” Virgil and Victor snickered behind their hands like schoolboys watching their teacher punish a classmate in front of everyone.

Alexander, still facing Solomon, addressed his older brothers sternly. The twins immediately straightened. “That’s enough out of you both.” Another remark or outburst and he would dismiss them from the room. “Matter of fact, I don’t want to hear another word out of anyone else’s mouth while this meeting continues.” Alexander told the room if they had something to say or add, they had to raise their hands and be acknowledged. “If you’re all going to act and argue like unruly children, then you will be treated as such.” He then asked the room if there were any complaints about the decision. Everyone of course remained quiet. “As we were.” Solomon nodded upon being addressed. “Our Summer Solstice Masquerade is coming up.”

Solomon rested on his palm. “As it does every year.” He replied matter of factly.

Alexander started fidgeting with the lighter like he did in the grand parlor before. “I’m afraid to admit this out loud, especially in front of you of all people, but… I have some worries.” Solomon’s expression changed upon hearing the words. They sounded like a foreign language to him. He was caught of guard that Alexander the Megalomaniac was worried. Solomon guessed his presence at Old Cahawba was actually that serious.

“Do elaborate on that, Mayor Hightower.” He addressed his counterpart with formality, something Solomon rarely did, usually when it was necessary or important.

Alexander shifted to the other side of the chair. “As you’re already aware, Our Lady of Light was heavily damaged in the storm a month ago. Now, I have been pressing Lucia’s useless ass for a timeline of repairs but…” Not even Lucia could give him a definite answer on whether the church would be repaired in time for the masquerade or close to it.

An anxious Solomon rubbed his chin, digesting Alexander’s concerns. “This predicament is rather unfortunate. The church and the Summer Solstice Masquerade go hand in hand. Our continuing relationship with our sponsors depends on the completion of repairs.” The High Families’ wealth and lifestyles were in jeopardy. “This is quite the bind, Alexander.”

“Don’t worry too, too much. Lucia will figure it out. This is the necessary situation she needs to prove herself to the rest of us.”

Solomon raised a curios eyebrow. “You say that like she doesn’t have a choice.”  

Alexander folded his hands in his lap. “Because…she doesn’t…” He said with all seriousness.

“Well,” Solomon twirled the fountain pen between his fingers, “let’s just hope this is the last of the storms for a while.” The region that encompassed Wych Elm was a hotspot during hurricane season. “We’ve had enough setbacks over the past year.” His concern shifted to the seaports. The fishing and importing industries were critical to their town’s economy and overall survival.

Alexander announced he had some good news, fortunately. “Ignazio Fontaine will be attending our masquerade this year.” He said, excited. Solomon was on the edge of his seat, mouth agape and in disbelief.

“We’ve been trying to get Ignazio to attend for years, and he’s always declined our invitation. How… How did you manage to convince him this time?” Solomon was impressed by the pull off, his personal disdain for Alexander aside.

“I’m persistent and I always get what I want in the end, Solomon, no matter how long it takes.” He wouldn’t delve further into the details.

Alexander’s lack of an answer for his brother’s question bothered Dorian deeply. The masquerade’s guest list was the shared responsibility of both the Hightower patriarchs and had always been. Solomon had a right to that answer. “Shut…up...” Horatio placed his hand over Dorian’s mouth. “You’ve said enough for the evening.” Horatio chastised the man as if he were his own younger brother. Dorian calmed down but his mood remained. He continued listening to the exchange between Solomon and Alexander.

“Interesting… Well,” Solomon readjusted himself in the chair, “it’s nice to hear you’re using your powers of chaos for the greater good.” Alexander found the comment amusing and cackled. “If that’s everything on this evening’s agenda, then we can-”

“-I’m not quite done yet.” He interjected, shifting from a lighthearted tone to a serious one. “There are…other matters that need to be addressed.” Alexander’s words came from a place of inconvenience He asked Solomon, fidgeting his point finger, about the Grand Families.

The man’s face became twisted up in disgust. “No, I haven’t. But whoever they are, they sound like cheap imitations of the High Families.”

Alexander snapped his fingers. “Exactly what they are.” He told Solomon a pair of ears told him that an alliance of seven families was forming inside Wych Elm. They intended to challenge the High Families and overthrow them. “That’s what they call themselves…the Grand Families.” The last two words rolled off Alexander’s tongue in disgust. He drank some of his tea, trying to rid the taste from his mouth.

The Grand Families’ alliance was comprised of some individuals from the Belleweather, the Belnades, the Claibourne, the Rosenheim, the Jirov, the Monte-Sano, and the Ellington families. Exhausted with the authoritarian rule of the High Families within Wych Elm, the Grand Families came together, wanting to cleanse their town of the High Families’ presence.

The room, disregarding Alexander’s previous order not to speak without permission, erupted into another clamor. Furious voices filled the air. For once in over a hundred years, both Hightower families found themselves on the same side about a specific matter. Solomon raised his hand, demanding silence from the room. The clamor stopped. He gripped his chin again. “So, the Rosenheims are at odds with the DeSanguis now?” The unexpected event piqued Solomon’s interest. He found it amusing.

Horatio grabbed Christian’s chair, leaning forward. Christian leaned back. “Can’t say I’m surprised by this revelation. The DeSanguis have always treated the Rosenheims poorly.” Christian was in agreement.

Solomon’s eyes slowly narrowed into slits. “Where…did you get this information from, Alexander?” He questioned the mayor’s validity of the claim. “We have eyes and ears all over this town and yet, this is the first I’m hearing about the Grand Families.” The Silver Hightowers all became suspicious.

“Do you remember Orion Morgenstern?” Alexander asked, craning his neck slowly.

The subtle change in Christian’s and Horatio’s body language alarmed Dorian. Weird… What’s got them stirred up?” He thought to himself.

“Orion…Morgenstern… I do remember him actually.” Solomon then shook his head. The fool had actually returned to Wych Elm. “No one’s spoken the name Morgenstern in this town since that night twenty-three years ago.” That family’s name became taboo to speak within the town’s limits. It was like calling out to the Boogeyman. Orion’s family, the Morgensterns, were once the sixth member of the High Families. All members, except for Orion and his sister Roxanne, were dead. Yet compared to the other five families, the Morgensterns had been looked upon more favorably, neither inherently bad nor inherently good.

Horatio raised his hand to speak; Alexander motioned to him. “What is Orion doing back in Wych Elm? His father sent him and Roxanne away for a reason.” The Morgensterns attempted to betray the High Families and failed, which resulted in their deaths. Their patriarch at the time had smuggled his children out of Wych Elm to spare them from the High Families’ vengeance.

Gleefully, Alexander revealed Orion had become his errand boy. “Well… he’s been my little errand boy for a while but that’s not important.” Christian scowled at the information. His expression was also noticed by Dorian.

Elias raised his hand next and was permitted to speak. “I’m sure your decision was made in good faith, but is it-is it wise to be employing that brat in your service?” Revenge. From Elias’ viewpoint, revenge was the only logical answer that explained Orion’s return to Wych Elm after what happened to his family.

Solomon expressed the same concern as Elias. “Not that he’s truly much of a threat to us in his current situation but keeping someone with a motive for revenge doesn’t sound like an intelligent decision.” The judge questioned the state of Alexander’s cognitive function. The decision seemed rather foolish for someone with a high level of intelligence. What are you doing here, Alexander? Always the madman, I see.

“You know, Judge Hightower, I’m kind of offended by your response.” He chastised Solomon for thinking poorly of him. “I’m a lot of things but I’ve never been a fool, especially when it comes to someone else. You should know me a lot better than that.” Alexander maintained to Solomon and the room that Orion was a just another pawn on his chessboard. “He’s desperate.” The mayor continued. Orion wasn’t interested in revenge (allegedly), he wanted to reclaim his family’s position among the High Families again. Mumbles filled the room from all around. Solomon’s expression was unreadable. “Orion was brought up in an esteemed, affluent family with a golden spoon in his mouth. I’m sure his years away from Wych Elm were quite dismal.” That’s why Alexander made the decision he did. Desperate people were usually willing to get their hands dirty for others. “Orion is on a fool’s errand, and it’s been entertaining to watch.” He chortled in delight.

Solomon rested his head on his palm. “And when he’s done all that you’ve asked of him, then what?” Solomon wanted to know what Orion’s real reward would be. “Because I know you have no intention of keeping your end of a deal,” which Alexander never did because he never liked when people asked favors of him, especially people who he saw as beneath him. Orion would be treated like all the others before him, regardless of his previous association with the High Families.

The eyes in the room all shifted onto Alexander. The Crimson patriarch propped his elbows on the table and leaned forward. The amused light in his eyes vanished; Alexander was serious again. “The Morgenstern Family will never return to the High Families. That’s why our predecessors made examples of them to all of Wych Elm. We cannot be viewed as weak. We cannot allow them to challenge us.” He said, scanning the room and meeting every set of eyes he came across. Alexander further doubled down on his statement. The sins of the father were Orion’s burden to carry. “Besides,” he reclined back again, “the less members we have among us, the more power and wealth we can hoard.” Up until that moment, Solomon had agreed with every argument Alexander made.

A sharp whistle escaped Horatio. “That’s very cold-hearted, Alexander.” But it was expected when it came to the mayor. He too agreed with Alexander. Less was more. The High Families had been doing exceptionally well since the Morgenstern family was booted from the table.

Dorian, picking at the lint on his blazer, asked Alexander, “So, is Orion like your second Red Hound or something? I’m sure your other lap dog, Ishmael, isn’t too happy about the competition.” Though Dorian and Ishmael very rarely crossed paths and interacted with one another, he knew how possessive Ishmael was when it came to Alexander and his attention. He was certain the sheriff was pissed when he learned about the partnership.

Dorian’s question returned Alexander’s mood to normal. “Ishmael’s my problem. Don’t worry, I keep a real tight leash when it comes to him.” The Hightowers behind Alexander all chuckled softly. “I intend to put Orion down like a sick animal once he’s outlived his usefulness.” Christian looked back at Horatio, smirking. Dorian again wondered what their deal was. The topic of Orion had increased his suspicions of the men.

“Speaking of Ishmael, why weren’t the other three heads invited to this little gathering?” Solomon flicked his hand in the air. He thought it was odd. There was no way the other three knew about the Grand Families before him when the situation affected all of them.

Alexander sucked an aggravated breath through his teeth. He gave a sour reply, calling the other three High Families incompetent. “Those dimwits wouldn’t know their heads from their assholes if I drew them a map in crayon.” His nails clawed at the wooden armrest. The Mayor of Wych Elm had grown weary and agitated with Lucia, Donovan, and even Ishmael, his loyal right hand. He stated they had become too distracted and disorganized over the years. The two Hightower families might have had their share of issues internally and externally with one another, but they were still grounded. “The DeSanguis family has been in turmoil since Ishmael was installed as their head. The Aschermanns are emotionally unstable, every last one of them. And I can’t stand that loathsome Eleanor and her smart ass mouth. Then there’s the Lightwoods…” His frustrated groan sounded like an animal’s growl. Alexander pinched the bridge of his nose. “Historically, they’ve never really been all that useful in the grand scheme of things. They’ve kind of just been there.” Had the Morgenstern family not betrayed them, Alexander would have happily pushed the Lightwood family out instead. “They all need to go.” He told Solomon, no longer seeing the other three families as beneficial to the Hightowers. “We’ve held the reins of power for so long within Wych Elm that there’s no need for the High Families anymore.” Wych Elm only needed the Hightowers.

The statement and suggestion appealed heavily to Solomon. Alexander had voiced aloud what he had been thinking and feeling for a very long time. “You’ve been on a roll today, Alexander. I have yet to come across a statement that I’ve disagreed with.” Solomon welcomed the idea of only the Hightowers in power over Wych Elm but feared that reality was far too idealistic. It could and would never happen. Two Hightower families could never coexist in a space they were quickly outgrowing every day. When united, especially against a common threat, the two patriarchs were cordial and worked well together. But once that threat was dealt with, they were back at each other’s throats, trying to destroy the other Hightower family. It was a feud that would probably never see an end as long as two Hightower clans existed. Solomon told Alexander he would reflect on the matter. “Now back to the Grand Families. I’m sure you have some nefarious plan already in the works, no?” Alexander was amused by the comment. Solomon might have held some doubts about him from time to time, but he still knew the mayor too well.

“A little blackmail and intimidation have never let me down.” He unapologetically threw up his hands. Alexander told Solomon his men were already on it as they spoke.

The Silver patriarch suggested something better. Alexander’s ears were his. “Now, hear me out before you give a response.” He held out his hand cautiously. “You treat everything like a game. So, let’s make this a game.”

Alexander glanced over at Elias. “I like where this is going already.” He nudged his relative in the arm.

“We’ll have the Grand Families turn on each other with minimal direct interference from us.” Solomon’s plan involved offering one of the seven Grand Families the abolished sixth seat. The Morgensterns’ seat. “I’m not finished.” The judge hurried out before the room could respond. “They claim they want to get rid of us, but I don’t entirely believe that.” He wryly chuckled. “Some of them may want that but not all of them. So, let’s put my theory to the gamble.” Solomon believed the Grand Families weren’t in it for the morally right reasons. They merely desired what the High Families had for so long: unbridled power, gross wealth, and an everlasting influence. “We’ll see how strong their alliance truly is when we dangle a bag of gold in their faces.”

Victor was the first person who objected to Solomon’s plan. He thought offering a seat in the High Families to people beneath insulted their legacy. “I don’t like this plan. This will only inflate their poor egos and make them more audacious. We can’t have any of them thinking they can be like us.” He arrogantly snorted. “Alexander’s plan is better.” The Crimson Hightowers supported Victor.

Solomon snapped at Alexander’s brother. “We don’t have to give them the seat. We just make them believe we will. That’s the problem with simple-minded people like you, your twin, and the dim wits behind you. You only view situations from a surface level perspective.” The overall point of Solomon’s plan was for it to be hands-off and to let the alliance destroy themselves.

“Who are you call-?”

“Shut up, Victor.” Alexander told him he was done speaking. “Solomon’s made a compelling argument.” He thought his counterpart’s plan was absolutely brilliant. The two patriarchs reached a unanimous decision between them, disregarding how their respective clans felt. Alexander couldn’t wait to see how the Grand Families betrayed one another for the sixth seat. Solomon saw the morbid arousal over senseless bloodshed in Alexander’s eyes.

“I’ll send Dorian and Horatio as envoys on the Silver Hightowers’ behalf.” Dorian nearly leapt from his chair when Solomon volunteered him. When it came to matters or tasks of importance, Dorian was always glossed over in favor of Horatio and Christian. Solomon’s brother was ecstatic. Finally, a chance to prove himself useful to his older brother and patriarch.

“Victor and Elias will accompany them. Why not send two envoys? Let’s see who out of the Grand Families will come to whom first.” Solomon was fine with the inclusion of the other men. Horatio and Elias were the most intelligent people out of the quartet. He knew they would ensure neither Victor nor Dorian screwed things up.

“Fuck no! I’m not going with that asshole!” Both Dorian and Victor yelled across the table at the exact same time.

Alexander clapped back at the duo for their insubordination. “Well, you two crash dummies don’t have a choice in the matter.” He told Victor and Dorian they would complete the task together or would be punished severely.

Dorian, however, dismissed Alexander’s threat. “I’m not a Crimson. You don’t get to order me around.” The naïve man expected Solomon to have his back. He found out, to his dismay and embarrassment, that Solomon was on Alexander’s side. “But Solomon…”

“You heard Alexander, Dorian.” He protested only to be coldly shut down by his brother. Dorian’s shoulders slumped in disappointment. “Fine. I’ll send Christian instead.”

“I’ll go wherever you ask or need me to, Solomon.” Christian replied. He preferred working alongside Horatio anyways. The two men were an efficient pair. And unlike the latter, Christian could only tolerate Dorian for a limited amount of time before his nerves became aggravated.

“You’ve been hounding me for the longest to give you the chance to prove your worth only to complain when you don’t like the terms.” Solomon informed Dorian he would never get another opportunity if he turned that one down. Dorian recanted his words immediately and told Solomon he would go without further argument or complaints.

“And the same goes for you too, Victor.” Alexander hadn’t forgotten he made the same remark. “If you don’t cooperate on this, then I’ll ask nothing of you ever again.” Victor did a complete one-eighty on his earlier statement.

“I’m sorry, Alexander… I’ll go.” He promised he would cooperate with Dorian.

Alexander reached over and patted his brother’s hand. “Good. That’s exactly what I want to hear.” Alexander then stood, leaned across the table, and extended his hand to Solomon. They would solidify their agreement with a handshake. “We’ve come to terms then, yes?” He deviously smiled at the judge.

Solomon backed away from the table. He had something to get off his chest to Alexander. “Don’t mistake my cordialness with weakness.” The mayor wasn’t a trustworthy individual and never would be. He made that clear with the situation regarding Orion, although Solomon couldn’t entirely fault him on that matter. Still, Solomon knew Alexander wouldn’t hesitate to backstab him if it was in the man’s interest. “You better not think to double cross me on this, Alexander.” Solomon told him in a threatening tone with eyes to match. “We’re neither friends, allies, nor family.” He cautioned the Crimson patriarch not to get too comfortable with their temporary partnership. They would ruin the Grand Families and then return to their corners of the town.

The mayor tucked his hands into his blazer’s pockets. “You couldn’t have made yourself any clearer, Judge Hightower.” He smiled cheekily at the man. Solomon returned his expression with a glower.

“Now, we’ve come to terms.” Solomon announced his and his family’s departure. “We’ll see you on the night of the masquerade.” He made a circular motion in the air, summoning his party. Dorian, Horatio, Christian and all the rest rose from their chairs in an orderly fashion. “Actually,” Solomon spun around, “there is one more topic I’d like to address before leaving.” He inquired about the girl’s body found on the property last month.

Alexander frowned at the mention of the corpse which raised Solomon’s suspicions. “That’s nothing you need to concern yourself with.” He rudely answered Solomon. Alexander informed the judge the situation had been handled and that it was no longer of importance. His response wasn’t well received by the latter. The glower on his face deepened.

Solomon moved back to the table, flattening his palms against the surface. “Did you kill her yourself? Or did you have Ishmael do it? Who was she? Who was she to you?” He bombarded Alexander with question after question. Solomon wanted to know why the mayor was hellbent on avoiding the topic.

“It wasn’t me.” Alexander replied uncaringly. He pulled out a nail file and began shaving his nails. “I honestly have no idea who she is or who she could have been.” And as for who killed the girl and stuffed her body inside that tree, “there’s no telling.” He shrugged indifferently about the situation. Alexander asked Solomon why he was so eager to know. “You’re a little too invested about this child instead of the one you have at home.” His mouth widened into a mischievous grin. The jab struck below the belt. Solomon knocked over his chair; he had grown vexed with Alexander’s childish nonsense. Seeing the man so upset almost had the mayor squealing from excitement. He enjoyed getting Solomon riled up when he could.

Dorian stepped in to diffuse the heated conversation. He grabbed Solomon’s shoulder. “We should go-” Dorian had his hand swatted away. The reaction bothered and upset him. He never liked it when Solomon lashed out at him, particularly when he was genuinely trying to help.

After some deep breaths, Judge Hightower regained his composure. Remember what Josie said about controlling your anger. He returned to his reserved demeanor. Alexander was rather disappointed; he wanted to see how far he could push Solomon. “People around Wych Elm haven’t stopped talking about it. I guess your loose-lipped men couldn’t hold their alcohol again.” Alexander sucked his teeth at the comment.

The mayor rounded the table, perched on the ledge, and leaned into Solomon’s space. Horatio and Christian moved in closer but were subsequently asked to stand down. “Solomon-” The Silver patriarch raised his hand. The men took three steps back, just enough to give the two Hightower heads space, but still close enough in case Alexander tried something.

“When have I ever cared for the opinions of rats scared of their own shadows?” Alexander said, hatefully. He wasn’t concerned nor did he care about the gossip and whispers. “Let them talk as much as they please. It’s nothing more than a distraction from the reality of their miserable existences.” Alexander commented that there were a lot of bodies buried around Wych Elm. One dead girl didn’t make a huge difference; she was just another body like all the rest. No matter how much scrutiny Alexander received from the town about the body, he still had the sheriff in his pockets.

Solomon was absolutely tickled by Alexander’s words. He told the mayor he was quite a comedian. “‘One dead girl doesn’t make that huge of a difference.’” He said, repeating Alexander’s own words back to him. “And yet if that were remotely true, then you wouldn’t be hiding her body from me now, would you, Mayor Hightower?” Solomon ended the discussion on that note. He gathered his party and departed Old Cahawba for the evening.

 

Dorian face planted into the first couch that crossed his line of sight. He was overjoyed to finally be home. Old Cahawba held no candle to his beloved West Eden. The dramatic scene annoyed Christian, as everything Dorian did. “Why are you acting like we’ve been away for the last two weeks? It was only an hour.” He handed his blazer to the maid in exchange for a glass of rum. “Thank you.” Christian inquired about the whereabouts of his wife and daughter.

“Miss Rosalind is still out with her girlfriends. Miss Vivianne is upstairs waiting on you to tuck her in for the night.” He told the maid to notify his daughter he would be upstairs in a few minutes. He had to wrap up matters with Solomon. “As you wish, Mr. Hightower.” She bowed and then disappeared upstairs.

“No seriously, that place doesn’t creep you guys out?” Dorian flipped over onto his back. He was reprimanded by Horatio for having his shoes on the furniture. “Ehhh… The house staff can clean it.” He replied dismissively.

“Or…” Horatio trudged over and pulled his feet off the couch, “you could act like you have home training, Dorian. Their lives and jobs are already hard enough.” The man chastised Dorian for making everything harder on them for no reason. He then plopped down beside him.

“As I was saying, there’s something sinister about that place. I get a bad feeling every time I’m near there. I think-I think it’s haunted or something.” Dorian trembled at the thought. Christian furrowed his eyebrows at the man.

“I mean, Alexander has turned that place into a graveyard over the years. I’d be surprised if it wasn’t haunted.” Horatio laughed, slapping Dorian’s thigh. The other man didn’t find humor in the statement. He held onto his belief that something was truly ominous about Old Cahawba.

“Hey, Solomon… what’s up with you?” Solomon had been strangely silent since they left Old Cahawba. Christian assumed his patriarch had been lost in thought, but it appeared something deep was on his mind.

Horatio took the opportunity to speak his mind freely. “You’re thinking up something, aren’t you? The Solomon Hightower I’ve come to know over the years would never get in bed with a conniving bastard like Alexander.” He held his empty glass out to the butler who refreshed his drink. “Thank you.” He acknowledged the man without taking his eyes away from Solomon, who sat off to himself away from the rest of them.

“Alexander said something earlier that’s stuck with me.” Dorian and Horatio looked at one another; they glanced over at an equally puzzled Christian. “He mentioned wanting to abolish the High Families all together so that only the Hightowers remained.” Solomon fidgeted with his fountain pen as he played back the meeting in his mind. “Two Hightower families cannot exist…at least in this town alone. Alexander knows that.” Solomon finally looked up from his lap at the men. There was a menacing expression on his face, though it wasn’t directed at the men. “Our two families have spent the last century trying to destroy the other. I have a feeling that Alexander’s about to start moving more pieces around on his chessboard.” Solomon knew the day would come but hadn’t anticipated it so soon.

A baffled Christian asked, “How did you reach that conclusion during the meeting?” Alexander always had some undertones to his words. Christian became rather skilled at picking up on them over the years. Nothing Alexander said during that meeting had jumped out at him, however.

Solomon didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he glanced over at the window like he sensed someone was out there lurking around in the darkness. 

 

 

Author's Note: I'm trying my best to get these re-uploads pumped out so I can move along with the next set of chapters before another hiatus. I do my own editing of my chapters so, I do apologize if there are some grammatical errors here and there. I genuinely read over a chapter at least three times before I publish to make sure I've caught everything. I'm a working class young adult that doesn't have the money to pay someone to edit and proofread. And in this age of AI, I refuse to upload my work into programs to do the proofreading for me. I'm sure I could find a reputable site and pay for that feature, but even those make me wary. 

I think everyone will be pleased with these re-uploads because I've expanded on something things, fleshed out some of the characters and their interactions with other characters, added some things to make the transitions between scenes smoother, fixed some cringy dialogue, and so on. Thanks for your patience! I don't have an estimated timeline but just know I'm working on it real hard.