1 Prolog

"She's not your child to make deals with." My fathers voice shaking with rage.

I'd never been scared of my father, he had always been gentle and delicate with me, but this version was terrifying. I had always known he stood in a position of power just from the way his men reacted to his presence.

"To late boy, deals done." My grandfather spit at my father, voice filled with disdain. He was the only man I had ever witnessed disrespect my father in any form.

"We will never let you get away with this," My mother screamed, bursting through the doors on the opposite wall from the desk at which they both sat.

My grandfather gave her no response, he acted as if she hadn't entered the room. He sat at his desk bringing his elbows up to rest of the desk and interlacing his fingers, staring at the vent I was hiding in with the most sinister look on his face that still appears in my nightmares.