Devil's Contract

“I need to get on the road before rush hour.”

“Sit.” It’s an order. No one, including me, ignores an order from Hans Cohen.

After taking my seat, my father raises his glass. His “Salute,” is followed by a fast downing of the high-end liquor.

I follow suit, more than happy to get in another shot before I head back to college where cheap beer will be my daily beverage. It’s just one of the top ten reasons why I tried to get out of returning to campus this fall. I learned all the damn place had to offer. I belong in NYC, next to my father, learning the only business I care about from him.

He doesn’t agree.

We sit in silence long enough I start to wonder if the old man is losing it. I’m about to push back to my feet when he picks up a previously unseen folder from the cushion next to him and tosses it across the coffee table to me.

I pick it up, slowly opening the folder. Inside is a stack of paperwork with a single photo of a pimply-looking kid on top. He looks vaguely familiar, but I can’t place him.

Glancing up at my father, I silently wait for him to explain. I don’t have to wait long.

“You know Sebastian Korvic?”

It’s a stupid question. The man is only one of the most notorious art thieves across multiple continents. He’s damn-near royalty in my father’s world having acquired multiple pieces previously thought to be theft-proof for his exclusive clients. For the right price, he is said to be able to deliver almost any piece of art. That he’s never been convicted makes him a legend in my father’s circles.

Since NYC has no shortage of high-end pieces for his acquisition, he’s been my father’s guest at The Whitney more times than I can count.

“What’s this kid have to do with him?”

“I know you don’t want to return to Harvard for your senior year. You’ve made it clear to me that you think spending another year there is a waste of time, but like I told you when we chose your school, there’s a lot more at stake than grades and graduation. Not only are you gaining the education to take our financial enterprise to a whole new level, more importantly, you’ve done well making dozens of connections with some of the most influential families in the country.”

He pauses as a small kernel of satisfaction sparks in me. My father is a hard man, and his little speech is as close to a compliment that I’ve gotten from him in a long time.

I don’t have much time to enjoy the feeling as he continues on. “This year, I’d like you to shift some of your focus to this young man.”

I glance back down at the kid’s picture, a feeling of dread growing. I’m not a fucking babysitter.

“Who is he?” I ask again.

“He’s Sebastian’s illegitimate son and technically the heir to his extensive estate. As you know, the Korvic family is practically European royalty. Sebastian’s extra-curricular activities aside, he is the head of his extended family now that his grandfather died, and while he has three daughters with his lovely wife, and many nieces and nephews who will fight to carve up the legitimate side of the family wealth, he is hoping to mold this young man into a worthy heir for his more lucrative acquisitions business.”

Trying to read between the lines, I still have no clue what my father is asking me to do.

“And what does this have to do with me?” I ask.

“His name is Atlas Giannopoulos. His mother is part of a wealthy Greek shipbuilding family. Her father was less than happy when she turned up unwed and pregnant at seventeen. She got sent off to London and has raised Atlas there, trying to keep him sheltered from getting sucked into either the Korvic or Giannopoulos family dramas, and for the most part, she’s succeeded.

“Sebastian has provided for them financially over the years, but he made paying for the kid’s college education contingent on him studying in the States, away from his mother, in hopes of molding him into a proper Korvic, if you get my drift.”

So, he really is asking me to fucking babysit.

“And let me guess. He’s going to be a freshman at Harvard this fall.” I don’t pose it as a question. I don’t need to.

“I know this is a heavy ask, but you need to look at this as an excellent opportunity to solidify not only my relationship with one of our best clients, but more importantly, for you to build your own partnership with not just one but two very powerful families. Sebastian came to me to specifically ask for our help. You’ve obviously done something right because you’re on his radar and he chose Harvard for his son, not because of the school’s reputation, but because you will be there.”

Conflicting emotions war inside me. The idea of having a fucking freshman on my coattails all year makes me dread returning to campus even more than I did an hour ago. Still, that Sebastian Korvic has specifically asked for my help and is trusting me to mold his son’s education helps that earlier kernel of happiness grow into real pride.

A reluctant sigh escapes as I ask, “And what is it exactly Sebastian would like me to do with the kid?”

My father’s gaze pins me as he answers. “Turn him into a man. Apparently, his mother has coddled him. Sebastian needs to know if the kid has what it’s gonna take to inherit the darker side of his business or if he needs to start making alternate plans.”

My old man doesn’t realize it, but he’s just paid me another compliment. He has ridden my ass so hard all summer, I’ve become resentful because he’s still treating me like a fucking kid. Clearly, if he’s asking me to turn the Korvic kid into a man, he’s indirectly saying I’m now a man in his eyes.

I mull the request over before I poke for more answers. “Anything more specific? Does this kid even know I exist or am I supposed to be pulling his strings from behind the curtain?”