Vatican

Part 1 - Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Luka

"Lord Vatican, you need to marry," Gerald whines. My head hurts from last night and his voice grates on me. "After what happened with Mr. Kieler..."

"Cut the bullshit Gerald... you know that's not an option," I say through gritted teeth, feeling queasy. I gulp down my bourbon.

"But my lord, it would be good for publicity. Plus, you need to have children. Who else will take your place?" he stutters like a bloated toad. He looks like one too, reminding me of the rumour about me employing people uglier than me to feel more attractive. I chuckle at my own thoughts and he falls silent.

"Children? Seriously? You think I could father children?" I look at him incredulously.

"W-well of course, sir. Every Vatican..." he trails off at the dark look on my face.

"Gerald, you know I have people to replace me. What is this really about?" I spit, irritated with him jumping around the point. I breathe through another wave of nausea. He swallows audibly, appearing to choose his words carefully. I don't blame him. I am not in the mood for this.

"My Lord Vatican...you were seen again last night by the media. You need to hold off from-"

"From what? Fucking faeries? Are you kidding me?!" I am getting angry now. I stand, making him tremble with fear.

"It-it's not good for your image," he stutters, sweat dripping from his brow. He wouldn't feel half as threatened if he knew how shitty I felt. I am getting too old for this.

"Bad for my image? Are you serious? Isn't that why I fucking hired a publicist?" I grit. He nods, wide-eyed. I feel too dizzy and sit down again. He does have a point. I have been too careless lately. Perhaps going to the clubs I own isn't a good idea.

"Are you feeling ok, my lord?" he asks, probably surprised that I wasn't fighting it more.

"Yeah yeah, I'm fine. Forward it to Gustav. Now tell me about today's reports," I wave off-handedly, picking up my pen. I take notes, letting sobriety overtake me. I need to stop this shit. I can't remember parts of last night and that's becoming a norm. How many was it? I can remember three.

Katze swaggers in, eyeing me. As my bodyguard, assistant and driver, Katze generally makes sure I eat and sleep regularly, since my lifestyle of endless work and partying tends to get in the way of my health. I sneer at him and turn back to Gerald.

"What do you want?" I hiss when he comes to stand next to me.

"Late night, was it?" he says casually, unfazed by my dark mood. He has experienced this many times. He is younger than me but stands taller. His spiked hair is bright red, and he reminds me of Kieler, my old business partner.

I had hired Katze during my first year as Vatican. His skills had been renowned. He'd had the ability to command an elite group of assassins back in the day. His background was vague, making me suspect that his family didn't hold a high status like mine. He had guts and wasn't afraid to challenge me. I liked that about him. I was attracted to him at one stage as well (yes, I do prefer blondes but fancy a change every now and then). Maybe that's why I had hired him. In any case, that desire had burned out long ago.

On a day like today, however, his gutsy attitude is not what I want to be faced with. He takes my silence as an answer to his question. I had forgotten how reliable Katze was, the bastard.

"Anyway, I came here because we are having problems in The Pits again. They have found another rat hole," he mutters over Gerald's voice. I groan, causing Gerald to pause and look at me.