AlterOne

Chapter Twenty

Niki watched his father's eyes meticulously survey the report he held in one hand, the other housing a glass of Whilstrum's brandy. Nikita placed the report on his desk, flipped a page, and brought it back up to his face once more. Niki shifted in his seat across from his father, checking his watch as he did. A word had not been exchanged between the two for near an hour's quarter. Nikita put the report back upon his desk, flipped a page, and continued his perusal. When his father had informed him that some of Niki's newer men would be taking part in the Westig excursion in place of the Dux's own, the son asked his father what insurances he had should the men be lost in the endeavor to which Nikita had no answer in that moment.

"Here we are." Nikita nodded his head and passed the report to his son. "Third paragraph."

Niki took the paperwork into his hands and reviewed the page. "Hm, a decent price," he said. He placed the report back upon his father's desk. "Though not much I could do now anyways seeing how you've already sent the agreement off to the Duke."

"Right you are," Nikita said, nodding his head. "And do you know why that is?" Niki huffed and gave a slight roll of the eyes. Nikita smirked. "Because I am your father, and moreso, your Dux, and you will do what I say, regardless of your opinion on the matter."

Niki gave an exhale of breath and averted his eyes, shaking his head. He then brought them to rest on his father and his shoulders up in a shrug. "Have I done something—what have I done? What is this for?"

"I want you to know your position within this organization."

Niki's brow furrowed. "I'm your son.."

"You have no place in this organization."

Niki leaned forward and shook his head. "I am your son." He repeated.

"You are not a gint. You are not a barridan. You are not a Citepa. You are not Dux," Nikita stated. "Yet you are indeed, my son. Anything you are privy to, any knowledge you have of our organization is at my discretion."

"I understand that father, but I do not understand what the point of this conversation is."

"Everything you are afforded is because of me. You know this. Of course you do," the Dux said. He took a sip of the brandy. "You're a dutiful son. That, I do cherish about you. For all the resentment and ill will you carry in your heart, you have never put your own ambitions above that of the House or the Syndicate. This is something I've always tried to instill in you; the Syndicate, the House, they are one in the same. In time, what we have in truth, will likewise be in name, and everyone must play their part. As such, Dietmar will be heading the offensive against the Terragotto in Westigs."

"Father?!" Niki protested, near half out his seat. "Am I being punished? I need Dietmar at my side, he is my right hand."

"No, my boy, he is your uncle's son, and some day, like his father, will work for our interests abroad. This was always the intention when he came into the city."

"Yes, but this is an undertaking the scale of which he—nor even I for that matter, has ever had to deal with. Is there no one else you can send?"

"Ask yourself. If Dietmar can not succeed in this, what use would he be when you came into power? He needs the experience, and I have faith in the boy. His father was thrust into the same position at a younger age than he. We Vikaelis, the son is not so unlike the father."

"Have you told him?"

"Yes. He will come this afternoon before he departs." In answer, Niki gave a nod of his head in understanding. "There's something else. Regarding Merick Lambert."