The Hitman

The Argument

Jay Adler's POV

Even though we were both sitting in comfortable chairs, I couldn't help but be on edge with the man sitting across from me.

"So," Nick's father, Charles, said. "You're one of Nicholas' friends."

I nodded. "Yes, sir. I need a favor."

Charles chuckled and puffed on his cigar. "And just because I know Nicholas means I will help you?"

"Sir, Nick is the one that needs help." I couldn't tell this man the real reason. He didn't even know he had grandchildren.

"Why would I help him?" Charles dropped his cigar on the carpeted floor, and a servant instantly rushed to pick it up.

"He's your son."

Charles stood up suddenly. "Nicholas is no son of mine!"

I gripped the armrests tightly. "Yes, he is. And he's a better man than you'll ever be!"

"He-he tried to kill me!"

I stood and pointed a finger at his chest. "And whose fault was that? Who locked him in closets when visitors came? Who beat him for not wearing sunglasses? Sons are a mere reflection of their fathers."

A vein looked like it was about to pop in Charles' forehead. "He's not my son!" He pointed suddenly toward the exit. "Out! Out! Servants, escort this young man to the door."

As men rushed forward to lead me away, I glanced back at Charles one last time. He had a hand to his wrinkled forehead and was muttering something.

I looked around the room. Portraits of his father, grandfather, great-grandfather, and centuries more hung about the room. Their eyes bore into Charles, who didn't seem so big anymore.

Legacy. All Charles wants is someone to pass this on to. He doesn't want to be the one to break the chain.  That's why he hated Nick.

I stopped in the doorway and turned around. A man put his hand on my shoulder, but I brushed it away.

"They've kidnapped your grandchildren."