How About Seven? ✔

3. Freedom Ship

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

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

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

"Eric is your brother!"

Ah, no wonder I found it familiar. Don't get me wrong, I'm not an idiot, it was just Eric and I rarely saw each other. We only met at mealtimes, and sometimes even not. He was a boy, so his life was far more exciting and freer than mine. And when we did met, I was bounded by respect to call him brother, even though I was older. He could call me by any name, but most of the time he liked "Oy".

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

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

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

"But Louisa hasn't even thrown the bouquet yet......" I wasn't really keen on becoming the next bride of course, I just liked seeing my usually impassive father look so unsettled.

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

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

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

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

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

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