THE FLIGHT FROM New Jersey to Jew York took only 35 minutes. Jon was still half asleep from take off to touch down. But he was in a light mood after the talk with Lucas. Their private jet touched down and Stefan and Jon walked out and into the black limousine that was waiting for them. Stefan spoke in low tones to the Bluetooth earpiece inserted in his ear. He had been on the serious call since before they left New Jersey. The limousine drove slowly through the gates and out a back way into the parking lot and out into the main way. Jon looked out the window at New York City. This was his first time here. "Okay, I will talk with you later," Stefan said and ended his call. He sighed and reclined back into the soft leather of the car. "What was the call about?" Jon asked, "it sounded pretty serious." Stefan waved it aside, "Don't give it any worry. A certain senator is giving me a hard time." Jon's eyes popped, "You were on call with a senator?" Stefan chuckled and reached for a

THE FOUR OF THEM – Stefan, Jon, Vincent and Jeffery – had breakfast together before leaving. Jon had changed from the ash-coloured suit that's had worn from New Jersey. Now, he wore the same colour as Stefan – Cream coloured. They looked impeccable together as they got into the limo. The four of them got into the long car and it drove out of the compound. "Liking the feel of New York yet?" Jeff asked as they merged with the road and got stuck in traffic. Jon shrugged, "Not really," Vincent chuckled and said, "It will grow on you, sir. Give it a few days." Jon looked out the window at the traffic moving slowly. Stefan followed Jon's gaze and looked out the window too. He scoffed slightly at the luxury cars that were stuck with them in traffic, "We all try to avoid the rush hour, so we stay back," Stefan said, "We want to give it an hour thereabouts, you know, to let everyone go to their jobs…" They looked at Stefan, trying to see where he was going with what he was saying. "So

THE CLUB 69 was located in Broad Street, New York. It was a brick, discreet building that was set back from the rest of the street and surrounded by a thick wrought-iron fence. It was so invincible that one could pass by it without noticing and it was the most exclusive club in the world. The easiest way to become a member was to have a father who was a member and if one did not have that privilege, he can be brought in only by the recommendation of five members. Applications and proposals were only brought up twice in a year and only 2 people were accepted. It only took a slight scandal to be kicked out of the club for the rest of his life, because once a person is out, he could not be brought back in. Stefan's father, Edward Stone, was a pioneer and one of the founding members of the club. And whenever Stefan was in the city, he often dined in the club a couple of nights per week and spent most of his weekends there. The inside of the club's hall had been decorated by the world's

"I NEED SOMETHING stronger," Lucas muttered. A servant boy rushed into the room holding a bottle of gin. Lucas collected it from the boy and gave him a dismissive nod. The boy bowed and hurried out. Lucas poured the gin into his glass cup and added the whiskey. "You are going to kill yourself," Jon said as Lucas gulped down the mixture and did it again. "Not if you kill me first," Lucas snapped and drank again, "Why would you – Jonathan… of all things, you chose a railway. A fucking railway. Do you know what it takes to build a railway? They used to use slaves!" Jon gave a grim chuckle, "I assure you, we wouldn't be using slaves." "We?" Lucas asked, "This one is on you." "I told Dad –" "I don't care what you told Stefan!" Lucas yelled, "You build the railway alone." Jon sighed, "Give me that!" He snatched the gin from Lucas's grip and poured it into a cup. He made the mixture of gin and whiskey and drank it, grimacing as he felt it burn through his chest. "Not afraid of kill

THEY HAD MET almost 2 decades ago. Marshal had just left the army. He was lost; he did not know where to turn or what to do with the rest of his life.He had stumbled into a bar and prepared to get drunk, start a bar fight, and beat some people up, hoping that the violence would ease some pressure from his mind.He was on his fifth glass of beer when he picked the man he was going to fight with. To the naked eye, it was a suicide request because the man Marshall has chosen is over a head taller than everyone in the room, including Marshall, who is just average height and weight. As he gulped his beer, he estimated that the big man had over 150 to 200 pounds on him and was over a foot and a half taller than Marshall.That should be a challenge, he had thought to himself as he scanned the crowd for anybody that might cause a break in his party, like a cop.He noted an elderly looking man standing in the shadows, watching him closely. He ignored the man and instead just focused on the fi