The Girl in the Wych Elm (X)

 

X. The Fractured Table (re-upload). 

The Lightwood and Aschermann families had long alienated themselves from the other three High Families. They had grown exhausted with the Hightowers’ constant fighting and clawing at each other’s throats. While the DeSanguis family aligned themselves with the Crimson Hightowers, the Lightwoods and Aschermanns refused to pick a side. They remained neutral in the conflict. Unfortunately, their neutrality didn’t come without consequences. The two families were often left out of important matters and the last ones informed. Over time, Lucia Lightwood and Donovan Aschermann formed a close bond which they found comical because science (medicine) and religion had never been on the same side historically. 

“Your incision is healing well, Lucia.” Donovan tossed away his gloves and stepped over to the sink. “I’m guessing Lucilla’s still in the dark, yes?” He asked, washing his hands. Donovan then plopped down on the stool to write a progress note in Lucia’s chart. “She’s going to have another stroke when she learns what you did.” He ended the statement with a sharp whistle.

The possibility of her mother stroking out again didn’t faze Lucia at all. “You make that sound like it’s a terrible thing. I definitely won’t be disappointed with that end result.” The beautiful woman laid on her side, facing Donovan. “One less hemorrhoid in my ass to deal with.” Lucia responded with eagerness, twirling a strand of dark, curly hair between her fingers. She fantasized over how she would celebrate seeing Lucilla’s dead body. The thought made her hot with arousal.

The woman’s remark nearly caused Donovan to spit out his tea. His wild laughter was heard all the way down the hall. “You and these eccentric comments tickle me so much.” Donovan enjoyed and appreciated his friendship with Lucia. Every now and then, she would pop in for a visit which usually made his day. Donovan placed the mug to his lips again. “So, the Rosenheims are members of the High Families now. What an odd but interesting turn of events.” Lucia’s hair twirling abruptly stopped.

The beautiful smile on her face twisted into a hateful scowl. “I couldn’t care less about that lowly family.” She would never recognize the Rosenheims as official members, nor would she respect them as peers. “Alexander’s pack of feral dogs continues to grow larger.” Her tone was bitter. “Tearing apart everything in their path for their master. This town’s become a filthy dog park.” Lucia commented on how much she despised dogs. The doctor listened and drank his tea.

The decision to allow the Rosenheims into the High Families infuriated Lucia more than Donovan. The Hightowers’ authority was out of control and had been so for years. The High Families, all five of them, should have voted together on who got the Morgensterns’ old seat. It shouldn’t have been the Hightowers’ call to make by themselves. “And it troubles me too, Donovan.” She said with a shaky voice. “Who’s to say they won’t revoke someone’s membership if they have the power to instate them?” The Hightowers and DeSanguis made it obvious how much they disliked Lucia and Donovan every time the families convened. The power balance was fractured. The imbalance to Lucia was like standing in a valley while looking up at a mountain.

Lucia had every right to be concerned and bothered. She had it worse compared to Donovan because of her gender. It was an issue. It had always been, and it would always be. The High Families were a male-dominated organization and had been so historically. Lucia was an anomaly. The sitting heads of the High Families could choose whomever they wanted as their successor, regardless of their direct relationship. However, a male successor was always expected to lead. It was a bit of an unspoken rule.

Donovan rolled the stool over to the exam table and offered Lucia comfort. No matter how many masks Lucia wore, he saw through each one. She had his empathy. Donovan never understood why Lucia’s gender was a huge problem. Compared to the other three men, he found her to be the most level-headed. Any time she spoke up, they shut her down, ignored her, or talked over her. They never took her seriously and wouldn’t. Insufferable hypocrites! The doctor thought. There had been plenty enough times when the Hightowers’ violent quarrels nearly burned Wych Elm to the ground. They were the problematic ones.

“I wish they would go ahead and destroy one another so we could be rid of them.” She hid her face behind her arms.

“It won’t be long until that happens.” Lucia peered at Donovan through her arms. “The pot’s been boiling for far too long and it’s going to spill over soon.” The civil war between the Hightowers was just around the corner. “Only one Hightower family can have Wych Elm.” Donovan paraphrased the words that Alexander and Solomon always told their families. “The only problem with that aggravating civil war, aside from the ensuing chaos, is that we’ll be undoubtedly pulled into it.”

Lucia sat upright and swung her legs over the side. “Hell could freeze over at his very moment and I still wouldn’t be caught dead in the middle of their nonsense.” She referred to the Hightowers’ feud as a two-hundred-year-old hissy fit. The only involvement Lucia would have was a front row seat to their downfall at each other’s hands. A Wych Elm free of the Hightowers was the closest they would get to world peace, at least to Lucia.

Donovan became irritated with Lucia’s narrow-minded perspective. The idea that they could simply opt out of the Hightowers’ civil war was laughable as it was asinine. “What makes you think we have a choice, Lucia?” The tone of his voice shifted from lightheartedness to seriousness. The word no to Alexander and Solomon was the equivalent of spitting in their faces. “I don’t want any parts in their squabble no more than you, but it would be beneficial to align ourselves with one of the Hightower families.” Donovan suggested they side with the lesser of two evils which was Solomon. “The DeSanguis, through Ishmael, are already backing Alexander. The Rosenheims will support whomever the DeSanguis tell them too.” To Donovan, Alexander posed more of a threat than Solomon, though the latter was not to be underestimated either.

From the moment he met Alexander, Donovan sensed a malevolent darkness incubating inside of him. That darkness frightened even Donovan, who was no better than Alexander himself. He often described the mayor of Wych Elm as a “monster in a man’s skin.” Alexander had to be purged from Wych Elm by any means necessary.

Lucia wouldn’t hear it, however. She moved away from Donovan and accused him of being loyal to the Hightowers. “That’s the problem, Donovan. There are no lesser of two evils when it comes to the Hightowers. Solomon and Alexander are the same level of evil, no matter which side the coin lands on.” Lucia would rather be killed than intimidated or threatened into an alliance with either of the Hightower families. She wasn’t afraid to die because at least in death, she could get away from Solomon and Alexander for good.

Although Donovan agreed with Lucia, he continued arguing his point. Lucia needed to look at the wider picture. “If we don’t choose, then the Hightowers, DeSanguis’, and Rosenheims will take us out before they turn on each other.” An alliance with Solomon would ensure the survival of both their families, if only for a little while.

Lucia fired back with a counter argument. “We side with Solomon…okay? Then he decides we’ve outlived our usefulness." She raised her hands. “It’s a lose-lose situation all around.” Lucia motioned for Donovan to think with his head. “We’re just pawns on a board to them. A means to an end. What’s the one thing Solomon and Alexander desire more than anything else? Absolute control.” She clapped her hands twice. Lucia reiterated that they stay out of the Hightowers’ feud no matter the cost. I’m tired of walking in their shadows anyways. She said to herself.

For the sake of his and Lucia’s friendship, Donovan decided to end the discussion on that note. She could not be swayed or convinced otherwise. As frustrated as Donovan was by Lucia’s “stubbornness,” he also admired her resolve even in the face of imminent danger. “It’s a shame what the High Families have become.” Donovan shook his head disappointingly. “The table is about to collapse under the weight of too many egos.” He mourned the former glory of the High Families. Even when the table was at odds, the heads always maintained a united front. Lucia, on the other hand, was at peace with the inevitable. Once the table finally broke, they would build a new one, albeit smaller.

Lucia looked down at her watch. She had to leave. “This visit’s been nice, but I have another appointment in thirty minutes.” Lucia slid gracefully off the exam table. Donovan handed the woman her jacket and purse. “I have a meeting with the project manager for Our Lady of Light academy.” Lucia’s church was expanding, despite the setback from the storm’s damage. The academy would be established for disadvantaged children.  

Donovan congratulated Lucia on the church’s expansion. “Once that’s done, you’ll have two less hemorrhoids in your ass to worry about.” He cackled at his remark. Lucia, smiling, just shook her head.

“Let’s have dinner in a week or two.” Lucia told Donovan. The doctor replied that he would have his assistant rearrange his schedule.

“Want to shoot for Friday in two weeks?” She confirmed their dinner date with a nod. “Fantastic!” Before Lucia went about her way, she paused in front of the mirror. The woman took a moment and touched up her makeup. Donovan teased her. “You should invite this project manager to our dinner so I can see him.” He giggled like a school aged boy.

Lucia rolled her eyes again. “Don’t make me kick that stool out from under you.” The man continued his giggling. Donovan asked Lucia if she was a misandrist. “If I was one, we wouldn’t be here having this conversation, would we Donovan?” She proclaimed that she didn’t hate all men, only the ones like Alexander, Solomon, Ishmael, and Elder Lucius.

“Well, that’s reasonable.” Donovan spun around and returned to his workspace. “While I have you here, there’s something…I want to discuss with you.” He brought up the dead girl found on Alexander’s property. Lucia, uninterested, continued touching up her makeup while Donovan scribbled on his notepad.

“I don’t know anything about that. Why don’t you ask our dear mayor?” She replied with a cold, apathetic tone. Once Lucia finished with her eyeliner, she removed a tube of mascara..

Alexander would never discuss the matter with Donovan of all people. “You know, I’ve been wondering why he’s been keeping that little discovery so hush-hush. I mean, dead bodies are left behind everywhere Alexander goes, and everywhere Alexander goes, dead bodies are left behind.” Donovan’s brain itched to uncover the mystery. What was so special about that dead girl’s body that the mayor of Wych Elm permanently silenced the men who found her? “Maybe she’s some kind of Achillies’ Heel.” He wiggled his fingers with delight.

Lucia paused her activity. “Donovan…why are we talking about this?” The topic seemed to aggravate Lucia, who thought it was strange Donovan of all people was interested in something so trivial. “Did you, do it?” She asked him accusingly.

Donovan dropped his pen. “The reason I asked is because I heard from some loose-beaked birds that the wrists and ankles were bound with rosaries…supposedly.” He spun around and faced Lucia; she kept her back to him. “I thought you could shed some light on her identity.”

Lucia continued looking at Donovan through the mirror’s reflection. “And why would I know anything about her?” Sure, Our Lady of Light was the only church in Wych Elm, but it saw many parishioners. “We give those rosaries out like candy.” Lucia replied unapologetically. Donovan raised his eyebrows. “Her killer could be someone from-dammit!” She touched the incision on her lower abdomen. “Can you write me a prescription for something stronger?” Lucia winced out. She described the throbbing pain as unbearable.

Their initial conversation had seemingly been forgotten about. “Yeah. No problem.” Her prescription would be ready at the community pharmacy by the time she got there.

“Great! I’ll have my assistant pick it up.” She was running twenty minutes late already. Donovan urged Lucia to reschedule the meeting if the pain was that agonizing. “It’s still swollen too.” She revealed to Donovan it hadn’t gone down since the procedure, four weeks ago.

“That’s because you won’t sit the hell down somewhere.” Donovan chastised Lucia which only worsened her irritation. “You need rest, ice, and compression.” He fired off the list with his fingers. Lucia’s next follow-up appointment was in three weeks, but she could see Donovan anytime she wanted with concerns or questions.

“God…you nag just like Lucilla.” She replied jokingly, trying her hardest to distract herself from the throbbing. “Look, if you're planning to get into trouble tonight, be careful.” Lucia also cautioned him not to go overboard either. Donovan told the woman to focus on healing and resting, not him. He was discreet unlike Alexander.

 

“Sister Lucia! Sister Lucia, is that you?” The old woman was out of breath by the time she reached Lucia.

“Stand down.” She whispered to her bodyguards. Lucia informed them she knew the woman. Heidi was one of her church’s most devoted, long-time parishioners. The woman had attended Our Lady of Light since Lucia’s grandfather was the head priest. She posed no threat. “And how are we doing today, Miss Heidi?” Lucia warmly greeted with a smile on her face. “I heard from Miss Janice you were sick for a little bit. I’ve missed seeing you at service. You had me worried.” She commented how much healthier the older woman appeared.

“I’ve survived worse, my dear.” Heidi told Lucia she wouldn’t keep her long. She knew the woman had more important matters to deal with than listening to a batty old woman talk her ear off. “I wanted to say hi, since it’s been almost two months since I last attended service.” Heidi lamented how she never got to witness Lucia’s inauguration. “Never thought in my eighty-seven years of life, I would live long enough to see a woman lead Our Lady of Light.” It gave Heidi the chills but in a good way. “Your father, Elder Lucius, is probably looking down at you right now with a proud smile on his face.” She squealed with satisfaction.

That sexist bastard’s looking up at me screaming out in despair. The word proud and Elder Lucius in the same sentence nearly made Lucia break character.

Upon the death of her father, Lucia Evangeline Lightwood, became the first and only woman within the Lightwood family to hold the position as head. Despite the momentous accomplishment, Alexander, Solomon, and Ishmael never failed to remind Lucia that she inherited her position on a technicality. She was the middle child and only daughter of Lucilla and Elder Lucius. Her older brother, Lucian, was born with a severe developmental delay while Younger Lucius, her younger brother, was ostracized for his homosexuality. Lucia would have never been chosen as heiress had her father’s “homophobia not outweighed his sexism,” in Alexander Hightower’s words.

“Oh, look at me.” Heidi threw up her hands. “Talking your ear off like I said I wouldn’t do.” She chuckled sweetly. “I’ll let you go on about your way now. I appreciate you humoring me for a few minutes.” Heidi turned to leave but stopped abruptly. “Before I let you go, there’s something I want to ask you.” Heidi requested another rosary from Lucia. “Your grandfather, Luciano, gave me my first rosary decades ago when I was thirteen and I've treasured it all these years.” She informed Lucia how she passed the rosary down to her grandniece. “As much as I didn’t want to let it go, that girl kept pestering me nonstop.” She laughed. “Eventually, I gave in and let her have the dang thing.” Heidi then proceeded to casually mention how her grandniece went missing three weeks after the fact.

The revelation alarmed Lucia. She became lost in her thoughts, tuning out the rambling woman. What reason would Alexander have for killing some old bat’s grandniece? That was if Alexander was involved somehow. I doubt it. He’s a freak, yes, but children aren’t his taste. Maybe it was that pervert, Edmund. Lucia shuddered at the thought of the man. Everyone around Wych Elm knew about his ephebophilia. He repeatedly sexually harassed Lucia when she was a teenager. But Alexander wouldn’t go to lengths to protect that pervert. He’d just get the Red Hound to off him. What am I saying? Alexander would sell his mother’s soul to the Devil for free.

“…wherever she is, I hope that rosary is still protecting her.”

Lucia touched the worried Heidi’s shoulder. “I’ll pray for you and your family until your grandniece comes home safely.” Lucia’s words brought a hopeful smile to the woman’s face. Those words, however, lacked genuineness. Lucia didn’t care about Heidi’s plight or anyone else’s. She merely responded how someone in her position would. Those prayers for Heidi’s grandniece went unspoken.

 

 

Godfrey Hightower was the eldest son of the late Thaddeus and his first wife, Genevieve. When Godfrey was seven, his mother died suddenly from respiratory arrest. The cause was never determined. His father went on to marry Seraphine, Genevieve’s second cousin. Seraphine was the mother of Victor, Virgil, and Alexander. Sadly, poor Godfrey found himself the Black Sheep among Thaddeus’ four sons. He was favored the least, despite being the firstborn son. His father was also harder on him than he was with his younger brothers. Thaddeus eventually gave up on Godfrey and focused his attention and time on preparing Alexander as his successor, which caused heavy resentment between the eldest son and the youngest.

Thaddeus chose Alexander as his heir over Godfrey for several legitimate reasons. First, Victor and Virgil weren’t interested in succeeding their father. The twins were content with their place in the hierarchy of the family. Alexander was the wiser candidate because he was more adept, charismatic, methodical, and level-headed. Godfrey was his opposite: too short-tempered, spoiled, lazy, and prodigal when it came to his finances. His track record of impulsiveness when it came to business deals and politics concerned and angered his father. Thaddeus knew Godfrey could never succeed him because his eldest son would have ruined the Crimson Hightowers. Even if Thaddeus had chosen Godfrey as the patriarch, he wouldn’t have received a warm reception from the family. Everyone preferred Alexander over Thaddeus; he was well liked and respected despite being feared. The Silver Hightowers felt the same way when it came to the brothers. That further stoked his flames of hatred for Alexander.

“My bladder’s almost full.” Godfrey swallowed the entire glass of Cognac and slammed the empty cup on the table. “I should go piss on father’s grave right now.” He wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his expensive shirt. The maid behind him refilled his glass. “You can go now.” Godfrey waved her away rudely. Alyssa didn’t say a word. She hurried out of the room, elated over her dismissal. The estate staff couldn’t stand Godfrey and never wanted him as their assignment because he treated them all poorly.

Elias listened quietly as Godfrey loudly vented his frustrations to him. His companion still fumed over his exclusion from the sit down with the Silver Hightowers. Godfrey felt slighted. He felt like he had every right to be there, but Alexander didn't want him. “And then the audacity to invite those scum of the Earth Rosenheims into our ranks.” Godfrey referred to the Rosenheims as fleas because of their longstanding ties with the Red Hound and his family. “And while it’s on my mind, what was the point of that worthless alliance with the Silvers, hm? The Grand Families crumbled quicker than a dry cake. Alexander could have sent his Red Mutt and his pack of feral dogs to deal with them instead.” Godfrey cursed loudly. All of it was nothing more than a twisted game to Alexander like usual. He was disgusted. “Maybe I should dig up Thaddeus’ corpse and slap it around instead.” Angered, Godfrey jumped up and paced around his suite. He told Elias he was tired of waiting in the shadows. “I can’t take it anymore. We need to do something.”

Elias told the impatient Godfrey to calm down. “Lower your voice too.” The walls of Old Cahawba weren’t as thick as they appeared. “Trust me, Godfrey. I understand and I feel the same way.” But their scheme couldn’t be rushed. “We haven’t fleshed out the details just yet.” He reminded the restless Godfrey. “If we’re too hasty, then we might as well put our heads on the executioner’s block ourselves. Alexander will kill us without hesitation. We need to be smart about this.” He tapped his temple. While Elias supported Alexander in the public eye, he despised and schemed behind the patriarch in private. No one wanted to see Alexander’s position usurped as desperately as Elias did. “We have to think and move like Alexander if we’re going to beat him at his own games.” Godfrey settled down. Elias was absolutely right. He realized during that window of clarity how right his father had been about his impulsive nature.

Godfrey returned to his chair and relaxed. “You know, Elias, I’ve been thinking about this for a very long time.” He swung his leg over the chair’s arm. Elias listened attentively. “Fuck Alexander and these worthless Crimson Hightowers that support him.” Godfrey proposed breaking off from the Crimsons in lieu of usurpation. Even if they were to succeed in their plan, the Crimson Hightowers would certainly rebel against him and reinstall Alexander.

The idea was great…in theory that was. But Elias knew better. Another split wouldn’t work, especially in their favor. Alexander had the unbridled support and loyalty of most, if not all, of the family. Elias also knew Solomon would never allow that to happen either. He would join forces with Alexander just to crush them. Two Hightower families were tolerable for the time being. Three Hightower families were havoc. “Not to mention, it would reflect poorly upon our reputation as Hightowers. The twin families have always been a symbol of absolute authority and fear within Wych Elm.” Elias feared the people would perceive them as weak and challenge their power like the Grand Families did.

Godfrey threw back his head and sighed heavily. Elias was right, again. “Actually, I do have another idea, Elias.” His head jerked forward. “It might not work, but we can try…at least.” Godfrey suggested they seek out the Grand Families, what was left of them, and strike a deal. The response wasn’t well received by Elias, however. His co-conspirator disapproved of the idea.

“Godfrey, I highly doubt we can sweet talk the remaining Grand Families over to our side.” He reminded the man how much the group despised the High Families, particularly the Hightowers. That hatred only doubled after the twin families came between the alliance. “Also, I’m the last person any of them want to see again.” No amount of bribery, manipulation, or threats would make the group jump into bed with Elias and Godfrey.

Godfrey gripped his chin and lost himself in thought for a few seconds. “True… Then we need do what the Grand Families did.” He snapped his fingers “We need to seek out our own allies who share our common interests and have something to gain from it.” That plan Elias was confident in. “Preferably, allies outside of Wych Elm. That way we don’t risk exposing ourselves until we’re ready to confront Alexander.”

Elias agreed. “I have associates within the Atherton and Sutherland families out in Rural Hall.” He told Godfrey. Rural Hall was a larger town forty minutes northeast of Wych Elm. The Atherton and Sutherland families were much older than the Hightowers. And while they were familiar with the twin families, they kept their distance from them.

“And I’ll reach out to the Beauregards and Davenports down in East Bend. It’s time for me to collect on an overdue debt from them both.” There were some kinks that had to be worked out before they presented their proposition to the families.

Hassani Hightower stood and wandered back to his suite. For the last thirty-something-odd minutes, he sat outside Godfrey’s suite and eavesdropped on their conversation. The young man shook his head disapprovingly as he closed his bedroom door behind him. “Elias, this scheme won’t end well. You shouldn’t have allowed Godfrey to seduce you into his web.” He then wondered if it was in fact the other way around. If it was Elias who had seduced Godfrey instead. “He hates my existence, but I can’t help but worry about his safety. I guess…my heart's too kind.” Hassani told Luna, his pet Canary. He reached into the cage and allowed her to perch on his finger. He in turn perched on the windowsill and gazed out into the dwindling evening.

Hassani was Elias’ younger, paternal half-brother; they were four years apart. He, like Godfrey, was also a Black Sheep of the Crimson Hightower family. However, his reason was a lot different. Born to an Algerian mother, Hassani grew up in the capital of Constantine until age nine. He was only brought to Wych Elm by his father upon his mother’s passing. Hassani was surprised by the gesture since his father had long abandoned him and his mother.

The young Hassani was excited about his new life in Wych Elm, a relationship with his father, and meeting his extended family, especially his older brother Elias. But to the young boy’s horror and distress, his arrival was not met with loving arms or warm smiles. Hassani was met with disdain, cold stares, and hostility. Naturally, he assumed the attitudes from the Hightowers came from a place of discrimination. The attitudes did but it had nothing to do with his ethnicity or nationality. The issue was his legitimacy.

The various members of the Hightower families despised and discriminated against illegitimate children because people like Hassani were still entitled to the same privileges and rights as their legitimate counterparts. That also meant Hassani could become head of the family just like Elias, a legitimately recognized child. The inclusion of illegitimate children only created more conflict and competition. The constant in-fighting between family members was intense as it was. “Why should we have to compete with the bastards?” Ten-year-old Hassani overheard a woman ask. That was on the third night after his arrival. He hadn’t been there for a week.

Poor Hassani heard worse from his brother Elias. “You’re not my real brother. I want to make that clear. You’re just another byproduct of his disgusting kink.” The nasty and hateful statement appalled Hassani. He was shocked those words came from the mouth of another child. Elias refused and would never accept Hassani, or any other half-sibling fathered by Tobias. His younger half-brother was a permanent reminder of his father’s philandering behavior. As long as Elias drew breath, he would reject Hassani’s existence, walking past his brother as if he weren’t even there.

The disdainful attitudes, words, and behaviors from the Crimson Hightowers frustrated and devastated Hassani. It didn’t take long for the negative energy to break him down. To maintain his sanity, Hassani kept his distance from everyone else, his own father included. The man chose the life of a recluse and was only seen when he wanted to be. Hassani observed the family’s machinations from the shadows while he grieved for the home he was unable to return to. Hassani felt trapped inside Old Cahawba. Just like his bird Luna he too, was inside a cage.

“Mister Hassani?” The butler tapped lightly on the door. “Dinner is ready. Will you be eating in your room again this evening?” He waited a moment before cracking the door. “Mister Hassani?”

Luna was returned to her cage. Hassani always felt a crippling weight of guilt whenever he closed the bird inside. “I’ll have my dinner in the dining room tonight. I’ve been couped up in this room for the last week.” There were times when self-isolation proved more harmful than it did good. Hassani tried to make a habit of getting out after awhile to preserve his sanity. “Thank you, Mister Oliver.” The young man shook the butler’s hand.

“You’ve been here going on seventeen years now and I’m still thrown off by your kindness and politeness.” Oliver chuckled. The two men had a special relationship. Oliver often told Hassani he was the “most pleasant Hightower he came across,” and “the type of Hightower the world needed” because he was nothing like his relatives.

 

The deadly scowl on Elias’ face could kill a rampaging bull. Tobias’s assistant, Carol, was sent to summon the man’s sons. But retrieving Hassani was Elias’ responsibility, however. No matter how hot Elias burned with rage, Carol paid his feelings no mind. Her task was done. “Your father wants to see you both in his suite-” she looked down at her watch, “-within the next twenty minutes.”

“Well, you better hurry and tell Hassani because I’m not going to get him.” Elias stubbornly crossed his arms. He wanted no interaction with Hassani, regardless of what his father’s orders were. Carol leaned into Elias’ ear and whispered something. The defiant man’s attitude did a complete one-eighty. “…damn womanizing bastard…” Elias grumbled under his breath. “We’ll catch up later, Godfrey. I have to meet with my sperm donor.” Godfrey lightly nodded.

“Pour me a drink while you’re here.” He held his glass out to Carol. The woman looked him up and down with a cold grimace.

Carol turned to Elias. “I’ll go on ahead and notify Mister Tobias of your cooperation.” She smiled cheekily at Elias, aggravating his anger some more.

Godfrey shook his glass, rattling the ice. “I told you to pour me a drink-” The door slammed on Carol’s way out. “Bitch…” Godfrey was left to pour his own drink.

 

Hassani, on his way to dinner, collided with Elias when he opened the door. He was dumbfounded to see his brother of all people outside his suite. “E-Elias? H-h-hi! Good evening! Wh-what are you-” The disgruntled man shoved Hassani off of him.

“Tobias wants to see us.” He informed his brother in an ill-tempered tone of voice. Hassani could see the steam wafting off his brother. As much as he wanted to inquire about why their father wanted to see them, Hassani kept his question to himself. He feared Elias would have struck him out of anger.

Hasani replied with a simple, “Okay” and followed cautiously behind Elias.

Tobias’s suite was located on the eastern side of the Old Cahawba estate. The walk to their father’s room felt like the longest trek of Hassani’s life. He attempted small talk only to be ignored by Elias who kept his eyes forward. It was expected. Hassani remained quiet until they reached their father’s suite.

Instead of knocking and waiting for permission to enter, Elias disrespectfully flung open the door. “We’re here.” He informed Tobias in the most miserable tone he could muster. Their father, who was on the phone, looked up with a hateful glare. Hassani quietly tip-toed off to the side while his brother continued being loud and disruptive.

“Th-thank you, Leland. I’ll call you back in an hour or two. My sons are here.” Elias dragged one of the armchairs away from the seating area. He was dead set on maintaining his distance from his brother and father.

Tobias maneuvered around his desk and greeted Hassani with a warm hug and kiss on the forehead. He paid Elias the Grouch no attention. Tobias always ignored his older son when the man was in a foul mood. “You’re starting to lose some of your color, my son.” He commented as he examined Hassani’s complexion. “You need some sun.” Tobias proposed a father-son golf day. Elias clawed at the leather chair, disgusted at how Tobias showered his illegitimate son with affection.

Hassani gave his father a shy smile. He was uncomfortable with Tobias making plans in front of Elias whom he had no intention of inviting. Tobias and Hassani both knew Elias would have said no anyways, but the principle still stood. “That… That sounds nice!” Hassani told his father to let him sleep on it for a few nights. The cheerful smile on Tobias’s face dimmed a little. He ultimately respected his younger son’s wish. Hassani was still wary of his father’s intentions with him. He still held resentment towards Tobias for abandoning him and his mother. Perhaps, Tobias was trying to be a better person. Perhaps, it was a sham. All Hassani knew was that he was conflicted over whether to trust his father or not. Tobias, at the end of the day, was a Hightower.

And supposedly, there were no good Hightowers.

“Have a seat, my son.” Tobias patted Hassani’s cheeks. He directed his son to the empty sofa. “I have some important matters to share.” Tobias sat opposite Hassani. He crossed his legs. “Would either of you like a drink?” He signaled to his butler. “I have an extensive, high-end liquor collection. Usually, I’m rather stingy with sharing but you are my sons.” He chortled.

A loud, frustrated groan came from Elias’ direction. “Please say what you need to say.” He told Tobias that his personal time was more valuable than his time with his father. “You have five minutes and then I’m leaving.” Elias and Tobias glared at one another. Hassani watched from the sidelines, more uncomfortable than before. The hostility between his father and his brother would escalate, he feared.

Tobias sharply cut his eyes at Elias. He picked up a glass of liquor from the butler’s tray and dismissed the man for the hour. “That will be all. Thank you.” The butler slithered quietly out of the suite. “I’ll be in Madrid with Charles next week on business. We’ll be gone no more than two weeks at most.” Charles Hightower was the creative director for Renoir, a high fashion clothing brand on par with other well-known luxury brands. Renoir had an upcoming show which Tobias often assisted Charles with on the production process. His exact contributions weren’t well known, however.

Elias’ face immediately twisted up. Whenever his father was away on “business,” illegitimate children bearing the surname Hightower magically appeared nine months later. Elias was no fool. His father used the Renoir fashion shows as his hunting grounds. Tobias preyed on young, desperate, and ambitious women; he enticed them with promises he never upheld. It happened to Elias’ mother too. She was young. She was impressionable. She had dreams. The difference between Elias’ mother and Tobias’ countless lovers was that she managed to snag the ring. The marriage was loveless and miserable too. As self-centered and indifferent towards others as he was, Elias feared for the naïve women who unfortunately crossed Tobias’s path and piqued his interest.

I should call mom later on. Elias thought. When his parents divorced, Tobias was unsurprisingly granted sole custody of Elias. He kept the boy away from his mother during his earlier years. Yet another reason why Elias was always at odds with his father. “Make sure you pack a box of condoms this time. We’ve got enough bastards running around the estate.” Elias made sure he locked eyes with Hassani when he said those words.

The word bastard to Hassani felt like a gunshot to his stomach. He couldn’t stand that offensive word. Every time it rolled off Elias’ lips, a part of Hassani was cut away. He suspected that was Elias’ end goal: to cut away at him until there was nothing left. Hassani looked away to hide his tears.

Tobias, sensing Hassani’s hurt, reprimanded his older son. “Hassani isn’t a bastard. So, stop calling him one. He’s my son. He’s a son of Hightower, just like you. You’re no better than him and he’s no better than you.” Tobias was fine shouldering Elias’ rage and emotions, but he wouldn’t tolerate any verbal abuse towards Hassani. That’s where he drew the line. “You need to stop taking your anger out on your brother-”

“-he’s not my damn brother!” Elias interjected rudely. He slammed his fist against the armchair. “We won’t keep having this discussion!” Elias raised his voice to his father.

Tobias stifled his laughter. “We Hightowers are born with inflated egos and sense of self-worth. It’s definitely genetic at this point in our history.” He swirled the glass of liquor. Tobias leaned forward with an intense glower in his eyes. “But what you and others with your mentality need to understand is that you’re not as high up in the tower as you think you are. Many of us are closer to the bottom than we realize.” Elias gave no response. His father had left him without words for the moment. “Moving on.” He reclined back. Tobias informed his sons that he wanted both of them to handle his affairs in Wych Elm while he was away. Of course, Elias wasn’t pleased about sharing his father’s responsibilities with Hassani.

Hassani quickly and politely declined. “Elias is way more qualified than I am.” The younger son was okay with Elias handling all of their father’s affairs on his own. “I-I really appreciate you giving me important responsibilities, but it’s all right. I’m not as business driven and minded as the rest of this family.” He said, lowering his head.

Don’t expect a thank you from me. Elias said inside his head. Since he no longer had to cooperate with his half-brother, his temper cooled a few degrees. But he was still pissed at his father.

Tobias respected Hassani’s boundaries. “All right then. Before we call it a night, there’s-there’s something else I need to share with you both.” Tobias shifted hesitantly in his seat. It wasn’t out of fear though. He contemplated how best to deliver the message to his sons because the man had to brace himself for Elias’ angry outbursts. Tobias cleared his throat and called on his assistant. “Carol.”

Carol disappeared from the room for a few seconds and returned with a little girl in hand. The girl, Lilia, was no older than nine. The same age as Hassani was when he first arrived to Old Cahawba. Lilia was a shy little girl with dark, braided hair and a bronze complexion close to Hassani’s. She immediately ran into Tobias’s arms and buried her small face into his chest. He coddled Lilia, kissing her forehead as he had done Hassani earlier. She was another of Tobias’s many illegitimate children. Lilia was born in Virginia and raised by her mother, who later abandoned her daughter at the gates of Old Cahawba when she could no longer financially support them both.

The rage that consumed Elias caused him to rupture a blood vessel in his right eye. He trembled so violently, Hassani thought his brother was having a seizure for a moment. Elias erupted. “You damn, grimy pig.” He grabbed the heaviest object closest to him and launched it recklessly at Tobias. Elias didn’t even care if it struck Lilia in the process (it almost did). He wailed so loudly that everyone in the vicinity heard him lashing out at his father. Lilia, afraid, began to cry, to Hassani’s distress. That chaotic scene was no place for a young child. “Tell me, Tobias! When does it stop? How many more bastards do you have tucked away in hiding? How many?” Elias screamed manically.

Tobias handed Lilia back to Carol. “Please take my daughter to her room.” Hassani used the heated exchange between the men to excuse himself. He eased out the door behind Lilia and Carol.

“Go have a nice break.” Hassani winked at the woman. He kindly took custody of sister from Carol and promised he would cover for her.

The woman removed a carton of cigarettes. “Thank God… I’ve been needing a smoke break since five.” She expressed, slapping the carton against her palm. The woman thanked Hassani before disappearing around the corner.

Hassani met Lilia at eye level. He gently wiped away her tears with the Renoir shirt gifted by Tobias two summers ago. Hassani was ecstatic about Lilia’s arrival at the estate. He hoped they could have the sibling relationship he and Elias didn’t. “Hey, Lilia. Do you like birds?” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Y-yes… I really like birds.” Her answer brought a cheerful smile to Hassani’s face.

“Would you like to meet my Canary, Luna?” Hassani gave Lilia his hand, which she took without hesitation.

“S-sure.” She sniffled.

“After you meet Luna, we’ll go downstairs and have some good dinner.” Hassani promised they would play games until bedtime, and he would read her whatever story she picked out. The excited child jumped up and down. Hassani was thrilled to finally have a sibling he so longed for. It had always been him and his mother up until her death.

“Why was that man so unhappy?” Lilia looked up at Hassani who tried to find the appropriate response for a child her age.

“That’s our older brother, Elias. He… He doesn’t like having other siblings…”

“Ah… Well… I don’t like him at all. He’s really mean and loud and scary.” Lilia told Hassani he was her favorite brother. The child’s remark made him laugh.

“There are a lot of scary, mean people in this house sadly.” Hassani didn’t want to tell Lilia that, but it needed to be said. He wanted to desperately protect Lilia’s innocence at all costs. Unfortunately, he couldn’t while they lived under the Hightower roof. Hassani made a promise to Lilia: he would do everything in his power to protect her from the scary, mean people. The way he wished someone had protected him.

As Lilia and Hassani made their way back to his suite, a crowd began to form outside Tobias’s door. Everyone came because of the commotion. “Is that-is that Elias going off like that?” A woman asked.

“Yeah, it is.” The man placed his ear to the door for a better listen.

“It’s too late in the evening to be this damn noisy. What could they be fighting about now?” The second woman was trying to enjoy some downtime reading.

“My guess? Tobias brought home another child.” The second man shook his head.

“Tobias has more bastard children than some people have change in their pocket. This makes how many now?” The first man asked.

“I know for a fact he has at least thirty other children scattered across three continents.” The statement was followed by a chorus of disgusted groans.

“Can we blame Elias though? I’d be pissed too. This has gotten out of hand. Our family will be overrun with Tobias’ bastards before we all know it. Alexander should really put a stop to this behavior.” The nosy spectators grew from seven to fifteen to almost twenty. The entire hallway outside the suite was filled with Hightowers and staff shoulder to shoulder.

Tobias returned to his spot on the sofa. “Why does it even matter to you how many children I father? You hate me anyways.” He told Elias in a snarky tone. “You won’t even associate with your half siblings anyways.” Tobias accused his son of being bored and having nothing better to do.

Elias dug his nails into the armchair. He finally found the strength to look his father straight in the eyes. “You don’t seem to realize or understand how embarrassing it is to be the son of a man whose sperm spreads around faster than a wildfire.” Elias was always ridiculed by the other Hightowers for his father’s behavior. “Do you even care how badly this has affected me?”

“No, I don’t. You want to know why, Elias?” Tobias rose up menacingly. “Because no one, and I mean no one, in this manor is as perfect as they carry themselves. These walls are filled to the brim with every dark Hightower secret. And if they could speak on the things they’ve heard and seen.” He let out a long whistle. “We’d all look bad.”

Tobias’ deflection from his problematic behavior was the final straw for Elias. He unleashed all the thoughts, words, and emotions he kept suppressed over the years. “It makes you feel powerful, doesn’t it? This is the closest you’ll ever come to tasting it, huh?” Tobias told Elias to watch his words, or he would see a foul side of his father. “They chose Weylon over grandpa for patriarch.” Elias cracked a sly smile. The glass in Tobias’ hand began to crack under pressure. “And he spent your entire life taking that loss out on you.” Elias closed the distance between him and his father. “Grandpa always made you feel small because you were never good enough to be his son.. Made you feel inferior and powerless.” Elias whispered into his father’s ear. “And maybe he was right to have done so.” Tobias reached for Elias’ neck but stopped himself. That was still his son, no matter how many blows they came too. No matter how many of his insecurities Elias verbalized and attacked him with. If he acted on that rage, Tobias would have killed his older son before he came to his senses.

“You’ve definitely been hanging around Godfrey a lot. I can smell the repulsive stench of his inflated arrogance on you every time we pass each other.” Tobias backed away. The light in his eyes turned dark. “Since we’re on the topic of power.” He smirked deviously at his son. “I know what you and that loser of a Hightower have been up to.” Tobias asked his son how Alexander would react if that information reached his ears. “I’ve witnessed the patriarch’s temper in real time and boy…” Tobias combed through his hair. “Even the most harmless objects can become a weapon if Alexander’s pissed enough.” Tobias circled around Elias. “Godfrey was passed over as patriarch for the same reason my father was: they cannot be trusted with the reins of power. It will corrupt them easily.” Tobias warned his son that Godfrey would turn on him once that power got to his head. “You see, Alexander and Godfrey are two different types of monsters. Better to serve the monster who maintains order through fear and power than the monster who disrupts that order through impulsive chaos.” Elias was warned to cut his ties with Godfrey before he found himself with the other dead bodies buried around Wych Elm.

“Burn in Hell.” Elias spat at his father. “I pray your plane crashes into the ocean.” And he meant those words too. Elias turned on his heels towards the door.

“You’re trying so hard to climb the tower Elias that you can’t even see the danger that awaits you at the top.” Tobias tried to convince his son that being at the bottom wasn’t as bad as it was made out to be. It was a lot safer.

Elias lashed out once again. “I’m not you, Tobias.” He snapped in a hostile tone. “I’m nothing like you and I refuse to be anything like you.” Elias placed his hand on his chest. He would not be stuck at the bottom like his father and the rest. Elias wanted more.

“I’ve reached my limit with your stubbornness, Elias.” Tobias clenched his hands. “Hate me as much as you want, but you’re my son. I may have a poor way of showing it at times, but I love you and I care about you.” Elias would never believe him, but Tobias was honestly trying to protect his son from the reality that was the Hightowers’ darkness. “You can do whatever or be whoever as long as it’s not a tool for someone else’s benefit. That’s why your business-” Tobias quickly bit his tongue. He backed away and turned around.

A demonic expression appeared on Elias’ face. “What were you about to say just now?” He demanded Tobias finish his sentence, but his father refused. Elias knocked over the armchair. “Tell me what you were about to say!” The anguished son continued demanding. Tobias, however, remained silent and kept his back to Elias. “Don’t tell me you had a hand in Alexander stealing my business away, did you?” Silence. “ANSWER ME, DAMMIT!” Elias yelled louder to the point his voice cracked.

Tobias told Elias he needed to go. “I have to start packing for Madrid.” Elias grabbed the glass carafe and cracked it over his father’s skull. Tobias stumbled off to the side and tripped over the object Elias had flung earlier. “Eli-” Tobias took a fist to his jaw. Elias straddled him and wailed on him until his father’s face was bloody and disfigured. Behind every fist strike was a year’s worth of suppressed anger and frustration.

“You...dirty…bastard… Your own…son…” Elias accused his father of jealousy. “You couldn’t stand…your own son…doing better…than you…”

Elias would have beaten his father to death had the estate’s security not barged in and stopped him. “Enough, Mister Elias. Enough!” Compared to the enormous man, Elias was a mere ragdoll. He was flung to the floor. When Elias attempted to charge at his father again, he was pinned against the wall. “I said enough!” They wouldn’t hesitate to use deadly force if warranted.

“We need to get him to the hospital as soon as possible.” The second security officer informed his team. Tobias was in a terrible state and more than likely had a concussion. He also needed stitches.

Godfrey barged into the room, shoving everyone out of his way. No one could say anything to him because lowborn Hightowers were second class citizens to the highborn. Even someone like Godfrey, who was a bottom of the barrel highborn, was to be respected.  “Well, what happened here?” He asked in an almost comedic manner. It was quite obvious upon examination. Several Hightowers cut their eyes. Some insulted him under their breaths.

Tobias was carried out of his suite by both staff and security. As the bloody man passed Elias, he reached out and grabbed his son’s hand, which was coldly batted away. “E-Eli-” Tobias weakly called out to his son. Elias looked away.

“Ar-are you all right?” Godfrey asked walking up to the man.

“You.” Elias pointed to a nearby maid. “Come here.” He cleaned his bloody hands on her apron.  “We’ll talk about it later.” He responded in a low. disgruntled voice. “I need some fresh air. We’re going for a ride.” Elias needed some distance between himself and Old Cahawba.

Their exit was barred by security whom Godfrey sneered at. “Get out the damn way.” He barked harshly, spraying spit everywhere. One of the men’s eyes twitched. “I know you heard me, asshole. We’re leaving.” Security wouldn’t budge which made Godfrey furious.

“You’re welcome to come and go as you please, Mr. Godfrey, but not Mr. Elias. This incident will be reported to Mr. Hightower shortly. Until then, Mr. Elias must go back to his suite and stay there until the morning.” Alexander had enacted a zero-tolerance policy against inter-familial violence while on estate grounds.

Godfrey snorted boorishly at the rule. “Basically, what you’re saying is Elias is grounded until further notice?” He called it ludicrous and childish. "We're adults, not damn children." He loathed Alexander treating everyone like children.

“Technically, he’s under house arrest.” The security officer responded smugly. “He’ll be able to move about the estate. He just can’t leave the grounds.” Godfrey told the man there wasn’t a huge difference between the two. The grip on the personnel’s taser tightened. Don’t taze him. Don’t taze him. Don’t taze him.

“I’m overriding Alexander’s silly little order.” In response, Godfrey was told he had no such authority. “Patriarch or not, I’m his older brother. My authority holds just as much weight as his.”

The security officer moved in closer. “We answer to Alexander Hightower and him alone.” He spoke condescendingly to Godfrey. "Let me make myself clear to you once again." Godfrey felt the man's taser pressing into his stomach. He was taken aback. “You are free to go, but Mr. Elias will be going back to his room now.” Godfrey sucked his teeth at the man.

Elias pulled Godfrey away from the officer. "It's all right." He whispered into the man’s ear. “Remember, this won’t be forever.” The man patted Elias' hand.

“I’ll come visit in the morning.” Godfrey told Elias who merely nodded. He was then escorted away by security while the crowd watched. Godfrey turned his ire on the nosy spectators; he scolded everyone. “You pigeons need to stop gawking and find something to do.” He shooed them away angrily. “Go! Get out of here! Now!” The crowd groaned and grumbled as they dispersed in various directions.

Godfrey closed Tobias’ door behind him when he and everyone left. He would have the housekeepers clean the room later. The man stood at one of the hallway windows and watched the sun set. He pulled out his phone and made a call. “Hey. Good evening, Winston. It’s Godfrey Hightower.”