Salvation

Prologue

Kevin Horan was one of the world’s richest men. He owned Horan Incorporated, one of the leading suppliers of the U.K and Ireland’s power and one of the leading pioneers in the renewable energy front. He had several houses worldwide, his own plane, a yacht, and a submarine. He’d pushed the company even further since his father had died 20 years ago.  Bringing it from the brink of bankruptcy to back on top and leading the world towards the future.

            So how on earth did he get stuck looking over scholarship applications for his son’s prep school? Kevin sighed and ran his large hands through his short salt and pepper hair. Just because he was on the board and donated the most didn’t mean he wanted to get stuck picking which underprivileged brat got to attend Foxmont Prep this year. He wouldn’t even have to donate so much if his son would just reign in his behaviour. Kevin sighed as he thought back to the meeting a month ago where they’d decided they would not only let a scholarship kid in, but also let them stay in one of the board member’s houses.

            Fucking Tomlinson. He thought as he remembered Archibald Tomlinson’s smug face as he suggested the stupid idea. Of course he could see the benefit to allowing a student to live in one of their homes, it would open up the application process to those who lived further away. But this meant that one of them actually had to accept some poor brat into their homes. It wouldn’t be for free of course, they’d have to work as a maid or something, but Kevin knew who would get stuck with the first student. Him.  He sighed again.

            His thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock at his door. Glancing at his watch and knowing whom it would be, he rolled his eyes and prepared himself for his evening to get even worse than it had been previously. He stood up and stretched slightly, allowing his muscles that had been hunched over far too long.

            “Come in.” he called out and the door swung open and two people came through it. First was Kevin’s loyal butler, Lionel. Lionel had been with the Horans for over 30 years. Kevin suspected he’d die before he retired. Lionel was old with the receding white hairline and the classic butler garb on. People liked to joke that he’d stepped right out of one of those old murder novels where the butler was always a suspect, but Kevin had never met anyone as reliable as Lionel and he was very thankful for that.

            The second person was Kevin’s son, Niall. Niall was 17, about to start Year 12 at Foxmont, and Kevin Horan’s biggest liability. A day hadn’t gone by since the boy was 15 where he wasn’t causing some sort of issue for him, whether it was fucking some random and letting her waltz out the front door to hundreds of paparazzi or causing a scene at a gala or coming home drunk of his ass every night. He was too much trouble and he was ruining Kevin’s image.

            “Hey pops.” Niall blurted out with a smirk creeping across his face. Niall was very like Kevin in his looks. Younger of course but there was still a marked resemblance in his face and the boy was only slightly taller than his father. The only real difference was in the boy’s eyes. Where his father’s were brown, Niall’s were a vibrant blue, a blue Kevin had only ever seen in his wife’s eyes. Niall had also inherited Kevin’s brown hair but stubbornly kept dying it the same shade of blonde his mother’s had been.

            “He just got home sir.” Lionel supplied. “Followed.” Niall visibly rolled his eyes at Lionel’s annoyed comment. Kevin glared at his son.

            “Followed? By paps again Niall?” Kevin tried to hide the anger in his tone.

            “Ah well you know those fuckers. Can’t really avoid them.” Niall’s smirk remained stupidly plastered to his face.