If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead, be sure to check out my P-Tang12!!!
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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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Caleb rode through. Guido's former mansion was impressive, a three story Victorian structure with wrap around porches and perfectly manicured lawns. It was a physical manifestation of the power Caleb had just stolen.
He dismounted, handing Morgan to one of the enforcers. "Put her in the best stall. Give here fresh hay and apples."
He walked up the steps and opened the front door. The interior was lavish, filled with expensive rugs, imported furniture, and the lingering scent of stale cigar smoke. The main staffs, a butler, four maids, and a cook, were lined up in the foyer, looking terrified of their new master.
Caleb looked at them, then at the grand staircase leading to the upper floors.
He had done it. He had infiltrated the highest levels of Saint Denis society and organized crime. He had a mansion, an army of thugs at his disposal, and a fortune hidden in a dimensional pocket.
He was the Underboss.
But as he walked into his new parlor, pouring himself a drink from Guido's crystal decanter, Caleb didn't feel a sense of completion. He felt the familiar, restless itch of a predator.
Bronte was next.
Caleb took a sip of the whiskey, looking out the large bay window toward the center of the city. The mob boss thought he had bought a loyal attack dog. He didn't realize he had invited the wolf into the house, given him the keys to the armory, and handed him the map to the treasury.
As he continued to enjoy the whiskey, letting the aged, smoky burn settle in his chest, he heard several footsteps enter into the parlor. They were hesitant, shuffling against the thick Persian rugs.
"Excuse me... Signor?"
The voice belonged to an Italian middle aged man. He spoke politely, his tone laced with a thick layer of apprehension, asking him if he had any instructions for all of them or rules he would like them to remember moving forward under his new management.
Caleb turned slowly from the large bay window to face the room. Standing in a neat, trembling row were the staff he had walked past when he entered the manor, the butler who had just spoken, a dignified man in his fifties with graying temples and the erect posture of someone who had served in better houses.
Beside him stood four maids in simple black dresses with white aprons, their ages ranging from perhaps twenty to forty, all of them trying very hard not to make eye contact. Last came the cook, a stout man with flour dusting his apron and the resigned expression of someone who had seen masters come and go.
The butler continued, his voice carefully polite. "Forgive the intrusion. We wished to know if you have any instructions for us, or rules you would like us to remember."
Caleb studied them for a long moment, letting the silence stretch just enough to make them uncomfortable.
Then he nodded his head, his expression unreadable. "Of course I have instructions and rules. But first, I want all of you to introduce yourselves. I need to know who is running my house."
Hearing that, the butler stood a little straighter. "Of course, Signor. I am Lorenzo. I have served in this house for five years. I oversee the household operations, manage the schedule, and handle correspondence."
Lorenzo then gestured to the young women beside him, who was introduced one by one by Lorenzo. "This is Maria, our head maid. She has been here four years. Sofia and Clara have been with us for three years and two years respectively. And little Elena joined us just six months ago."
The youngest maid, Elena, ducked her head, her cheeks flushing.
"And this," Giuseppe continued, indicating the cook, "is Signor Giuseppe. He has been the cook here for three years. His kitchen is impeccable."
After committing all of their names to his enhanced memory, Caleb then said to them that his first instruction was simple. "All of you will continue to do your usual work, whatever it is. Keep the house clean, keep the kitchen running. I am not a demanding man, but I expect excellence."
He paused, glancing out the window toward the stables. "Also, I want a dedicated stable boy to take care of my horse. She requires specific attention, fresh hay, daily brushing, and apples. I want you, Lorenzo, to get one hired by the end of the day."
Lorenzo received the instruction with a sharp nod. "Immediately, Signor. I know a young man from the neighborhood, honest and good with animals. I will hire him today."
"With that done," Caleb continued, stepping fully into the center of the parlor, his imposing figure casting a long shadow, "we move to the rules of this mansion. Listen carefully."
He held up a single finger. "Rule number one, all staff have to report everything to the butler, Lorenzo, who will in turn report all of it to me. Every broken plate, every strange sound at night, Every delivery, every visitor, every unusual occurrence, everything. If I find any of you lying or hiding things... well, you know the line of work the previous owner was in. You know the end that would befall you."
The maids visibly swallowed, but nodded quickly.
Caleb held up a second finger. "The second rule is about access. Other than Mr. Bronte, those who come to visit me or see me, regardless of their rank in the family, have to wait at the terrace of the mansion until I allow them to enter. And if I am absent from the property, no one is allowed to enter. Not even Mr. Bronte."
Lorenzo's eyes widened slightly at the audacity of denying the Don himself.
"If Mr. Bronte does arrive while I am out," Caleb clarified, "you should of course be very polite. Offer him a seat on the terrace, offer him a drink, and say to him it's strictly for security reasons under my direct orders. Blame my paranoia as a bounty hunter. Understood?"
Lorenzo swallowed but nodded firmly. "Understood, Signor."
Caleb lowered his hand, his gaze softening just a fraction. "And the last rule. As long as you obey me, and don't do anything that goes out of line against my authority or cause a big problem... you will be protected by me. Completely. Even if what you did offends some big shots or made men in the city. You are my staff now. No one touches what is under my protection."
Lorenzo, hearing that, felt a wave of profound relief wash over him. Guido Martelli had offered a paycheck, but never protection. The butler nodded his head deeply and said, "I will make sure to remember these rules for myself and the rest of the staff, Signor. On behalf of myself and the staff, I assure you, we will not let you down."
Caleb nodded his head at that, saying, "Good. I know you won't. One more thing, Lorenzo. Giuseppe. I am appointing you to handle the small businesses I inherited from Guido. The ones listed in his ledgers. You will manage them, collect the profits, and report to me weekly."
He walked over to the desk, leaning against the polished mahogany. "And for the income of this month from those street level operations... it is to be distributed evenly to the employees of those business and this house, which was the six of you plus the stable boy. Think of it as an bonus paycheck. And a demonstration of my generosity compared to Guido."
The room went dead silent for three seconds as the math caught up with them. The income from an underboss's side rackets, even the small ones, equated to thousands of dollars. Divided amongs the business employees and the six of them plus the stable boy, it was quite the big sum. It was enough to pay their expenses for several months.
Other than the butler, who struggled admirably to keep his composure professional, the staff showed visible, overwhelming excitement. Maria covered her mouth to stifle a gasp, and Giuseppe looked as though he might faint. After being reminded by a sharp look from Lorenzo, all of them thanked Caleb profusely for his kindness, bowing their heads.
Caleb nodded his head, accepting their gratitude, before waving them off. "Back to work. Giuseppe, I'll be wanting lunch in an hour."
They filed out, Lorenzo pausing at the door to give a small bow before closing it behind him. When they were gone, the heavy double doors clicking shut behind them, Caleb finally let out a long breath. The absolute silence of the mansion wrapped around him. He began to think.
He had this mansion now. Of course, this would be his private estate in the city, an untouchable fortress of luxury, at least until he took Bronte's position entirely and made the grand manor in the Garden District his own.
His thoughts drifted westward, past the swamps and the heartlands, to the quiet, hidden homestead. The gang would, of course, have that homestead as their house together. It was safe, isolated, and entirely off the grid.
But looking around the parlor, with its towering bookshelves and quiet elegance, he realized he could bring Mary-Beth here. The thought brought a rare, genuine warmth to his chest. She would absolutely love this place.
She would have her own massive, sunlit study to literally create her own novels. He knew from his past life, from the knowledge of the game's epilogue, that she was destined to become a successful writer under the pen name Leslie Floyd.
Here, surrounded by wealth and absolute security, she could begin that dream years early, without the constant fear of Pinkertons breaking down the door.
But his logical mind immediately crushed the romantic notion. Bronte was still alive. The risk was simply too great. If Bronte found out Caleb had a weakness, a woman he cared for, the mob boss would immediately use her as leverage.
'No,' Caleb decided firmly. 'After thinking about it, I won't bring her here yet. Not until the Italian is buried.'
He walked to the large desk that once belonged to Guido, sitting in the high backed leather chair. In the evening, he would have a meeting again with Bronte to discuss the war with Leviticus Cornwall.
He pulled out a blank sheet of paper and a fountain pen. Looks like he had to create a plan where this could end very fast. He needed a masterstroke that would guarantee Bronte's demise, while simultaneously crippling Cornwall's power to the extent that the industrialist couldn't afford to hunt him and the gang down anymore.
After all, now that he thought about it, his promotion came with a heavy tether. He couldn't leave Saint Denis without Bronte asking a dozen questions. Since he had become the Underboss, he was expected to be at the Don's side or managing the city's streets.
He could, of course, convince Bronte with his max level Persuasion Skill that he needed to scout enemy lines alone, but if he was gone for more than three days or two days, it would inevitably cause Bronte to be highly suspicious of him.
A new Underboss vanishing immediately after taking power looked exactly like a man plotting a coup.
Yet, he desperately wanted to go back to the homestead. He needed to check whether Dutch Van der Linde was already dead or not.
Dutch was the ultimate variable. Caleb had orchestrated it perfectly before he left, the charismatic, destructive leader was tied up in the basement, entirely reliant on Reverend Swanson for his evening meals.
And Caleb had subtly ensured that Swanson, who had absolutely no idea he was doing it, was lacing those meals with a highly toxic dosage of potassium bromide.
Caleb needed to get rid of that variable completely to ensure the gang was already free of his manipulative influence. He needed visual confirmation.
And so, while waiting for the time of the meeting with Bronte in the evening, he decided to create a master plan. A plan that would have Bronte so incredibly happy and bloodthirsty that they were taking the fight directly to Cornwall in Annesburg, making it look like the only tactical plan they could possibly do.
Caleb began to sketch a map of the Annesburg mining facility from his flawless memory of the terrain.
He would propose a massive, all-out strike on Cornwall's primary coal and timber operations up north. It was brilliant bait. Bronte hated Cornwall's wealth, and burning down the mines would cost the tycoon millions.
But it would also incur huge, devastating losses for both sides. The Pinkerton guards in Annesburg were heavily entrenched, armed with Maxim guns and fortified positions.
Caleb would make it so that Bronte's losses appeared to be nothing compared to the financial and structural losses that Cornwall took.
The Setup: Caleb would lead a vanguard of Bronte's most loyal, and therefore, most dangerous to Caleb, capos into the mines.
The Trap: They would rig the main shafts with dynamite.
The Betrayal: In the ensuing chaos of the firefight with the Pinkertons, Caleb would ensure Bronte's men were trapped deep in the crossfire, effectively feeding Bronte's personal army into a meat grinder of his own design. Cornwall loses his mines, Bronte loses his muscle.
It was a beautiful, terrible design.
As he finalized the tactical diagrams and casualty projections in his mind, ensuring the plan was airtight enough to pass Bronte's scrutiny but fatal enough to serve his own ends, a soft knock came at the parlor door.
...
Name: Caleb Thorne
Age: 23
Body Attributes:
- Strength: 8/10
- Agility: 8/10
- Perception: 9/10
- Stamina: 8/10
- Charm: 8/10
- Luck: 9/10
Skills:
- Handgun (Lvl MAX)
- Rifle (Lvl MAX)
- Firearms Knowledge (Lvl MAX)
- Past Life Memory (Lvl MAX)
- Knife (Lvl MAX)
- Blunt Weapon (Lvl 2)
- Sneaking (Lvl MAX)
- Horse Mastery (Lvl MAX)
- Poker (Lvl MAX)
- Hand to Hand Combat (Lvl MAX)
- Eagle Eye (Lvl 2)
- Dead Eye (Lvl 4)
- Bow (Lvl 3)
- Pain Nullifier (Lvl 4)
- Physical Regeneration (Lvl 3)
- Crafting (Lvl MAX)
- Persuasion (Lvl MAX)
- Mental Fortitude (Lvl MAX)
- Cooking (Lvl MAX)
- Teaching (Lvl 3)
- Trilingual Language Proficiency - G, I, & C (Lvl MAX)
- Inventory System (Permanent - 50x50x50)
- Acting (Lvl MAX)
- Alcohol Resistance (Lvl MAX)
- Treasure Hunter (Lvl MAX)
- Drugs Resistance (Lvl MAX)
- Business (Lvl 2)
- Leadership (Lvl 2)
Money: 3,322 dollars and 60 cents
Inventory: 250,992 dollars and 61 cents, 11 gold nuggets, 70 gold bars, 1 Double Action, 1 Schofield, 2 Colm's Schofields, 1 land deed (Parcel), 1 Mauser, 1 Semi Auto Pistol, 1 Lancaster Repeater, 1 Old Wood Jewelry Box, 1 F.F Mausoleum small brass key, 1 Ruby, 1 Braithwaites Land Deed, 1 Broken Pirate Sword, 1 Milton's Safety Deposit Key, 1 Senator Pendleton Sealed Envelope, Proof Of Marlin-Thorne Firearms Co., 10 Dynamites, 1 LeMat, 1 M1899, 1 Carcano, & 1 Ownership deed of Doyle's Tavern
Bank: -