Objects of Virtue

Chapter 02

*INITIAL MEETING! I'M SO EXCITED!! HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOY THIS AS MUCH AS I DID!!*

28th of May, 2021 – Hertfordshire, England.

Louis' blue eyes were pooling up with tears as he placed the phone down on the large mahogany table. His jaws clenched in his attempt to still the tears that threatened to spill as his father's words resonated in his ears "Louis! Boys don't cry – man up and stop your sniveling boy!" Even now, dead as he was – his body lying in the cold, dark alley way behind their gallery, he still managed to invade Louis' mind and put the fear of God in him.

This was not the time for emotions, Louis knew – but he couldn't help but feel a little bit lost. All these years his father had ruled the empire that he had created with an iron fist. Every move, every decision had always been made by him – to say he was a dominating type was an understatement. And now, he felt as if all the strings that had tied things up so securely, so neatly were gently falling apart. He had never had to make a single decision in his life – everything was always clear cut, scheduled and on time. He just showed up and got the job done. What now? The burden of an entire empire had fallen on his young shoulders – he was barely 30, he wasn't ready. He could feel the emotions raging inside, threatening to break down the dam that he had so carefully constructed to keep them in check. Father was dead.

Taking a deep breath, Louis steeled himself for the pandemonium he could feel was not too far away, as he switches on the television, flicking through channels until he finally reached the news. Sure enough, splashed across the large screen of the television was the news he so wished not to be true. Details he already knew spilled out of the speakers conveyed through the sugary sweet voice of a blonde that looked completely out of place in a crime scene, her bright blue suit almost insulting to Louis as he watched the news unfold. A sharp rap on the door brought Louis back from his thoughts and he swiftly wiped away the tears that had rolled down his face unbeknownst to him.

"Come in!" he said, possibly louder than he intended in an attempt to disguise the fact that he had succumbed to a moment of "weakness" – as his deceased father liked to put it. Ah there he was again – haunting his thoughts! Liam opened the door and walked in closing the door and proceeded to lock it behind him as he entered the room. He was exactly the person Louis needed in that very moment. It was as if the two of them shared a telekinetic bond – one where the other always knew when they were needed. It was only fair to assume so as the two boys had practically grown up together. Liam was the younger brother that he never had – granted though, Liam was the more mature of the two. Liam was tall – 5 feet 11 inches to Louis 5 feet 8 inches. Liam had been by his side through almost all that life had thrown at him. He was his light that guided him when things got a little too dark. He built him up every time Father tore him down and broke him apart. Without Liam, Louis was like a little sail boat drifting aimlessly without an anchor. And here he was again, right on cue, ready to hold him together just as everything threatened to fall apart.

"Louis it's time we went down to the gallery, the police are waiting for you," Liam said gently as he wrapped his arms around Louis' shoulder and guided him to a chair and seated him down. He reached over and grabbed the remote, swiftly turning the television off. "They are going to be asking questions and you need to prepared to answer them. I'm sorry Lou, but we don't have much time to prepare so I suggest we get to business. They can't find out what your father worked so hard to protect – it is your legacy now, whether you like it or not, the family depends on you."

Louis stared blankly at the black screen of the television in front of him, reflecting morphed images of himself and Liam. The truth of the matter was, he knew next to nothing about what his father was doing. Sure, he knew they weren't just a run of the mill art gallery – he knew his father's contacts dealt with the procuring and sales of artifacts that legally could not be bought – or sold for that matter, but the day to day running of it, he had no clue. Louis didn't think his father ever prepared for a time when he'd have to take over. He'd always assumed that he was infallible – quite a stupid thought, Louis realized, everyone dies someday. Now Louis was sat here, in his father's study – trying to get his baring and figure this colossal mess out – all whilst mourning the loss of his father – the one man that he looked up to , the one man that he held up high on a pedestal despite the fact that he was always the person to tear Louis down. Where could he possibly start?