ambit. [hs au]

Chapter 43

Franklyn's P.O.V.:

For years, getting to know and understand George Styles' heirs was the hardest part of my plan.

When I first learned that the fucker was dead, for a hot minute I actually thought my whole vendetta plan was going to waste - how could I avenge someone who's already dead? How could I make him pay for all the bad he had done, to me and my family, if someone else got to take his life in my place?

Of course, Sebastian, my son, had the answer when he came up with his plan. Even though I didn't quite like it at first, the idea of working for someone from that family made my skin crawl and my stomach churn every time I thought about it. But I ended up agreeing with it; and damn, I'm so glad I did.

In his line of work, Sebastian had the necessary connections and access to build me a fake identity, convincing enough to pass through Styles' background check when I applied to the job vacancy at his house, 6 years ago. I worked for George Styles' family as their gardener for almost 2 whole years, which allowed me to keep a close eye on their routine and learn more about their dynamic after his death.

His sons were different from what I expected them to be. I was convinced they would be two arrogant, stubborn, spoiled little shits who were bound to walk all over the house staff, barking orders and treating everybody like crap. I expected Freya Styles to be a pampered socialite with shit for brains.

What I found in their house, however, was a loving, quiet family. Two educated boys and a mother I would barely ever see; it soon became clear she was too sick to wander around the house in high heels like I envisioned her in my mind. Both boys took care of her fiercely, though, and the few times I saw her walking around, she was never alone. One of them was always with her, holding her hands firmly and whispering words of encouragement.

Timothée Styles was the sweetest one, I think because he's the younger and got to coexist less with his putrid father. It wasn't hard to figure him out, he was still a child, barely even a teenager, and always acted as such. He was always with his mother, and didn't seem to miss his father at all. But although he was innocent, he was also smart enough never to talk more than he was supposed to. He respected his older brother a great deal.

Freya wasn't the head of the house, though. From my first interview, one thing was clear to me, the person in control, making all the decisions, was the oldest son, although at the time he was barely 18. Harry Styles.

He was a mystery to me, for such a long time. Although he was educated, polite and always kind to the staff, he was also closed off, quiet and strange. He didn't like having people around his house, not even the staff. He would watch us like a hawk whenever he was home, making sure none of us would access a single room we were not supposed to. Every member of the staff would always say how weird he was about his privacy.

I didn't fucking care about his privacy; no, I observed. As much as I could, I watched him close. The boy who followed the steps of the man that I despised most in the world. He inherited everything; George Styles' business, his fortunes, his place in the City Council. And I'd always wondered - did he also inherit his father's rotting character?

I wasn't sure I could trust him. They say the apple never falls too far from the tree, after all. How could I ever be sure he was trustworthy? How could I ever know he didn't follow his father's steps? I didn't know if I ever could be sure, but I kept watching him. For two whole years, I acted like a shadow, taking care of his garden, quietly, discreetly, making myself useful, but never bringing too much attention to myself. I made sure to be around for as long as I could, to see and hear as much as I could, and as the time passed, I learned that Harry was definitely not like his father.