MICHAEL SULLIVAN: NEW DYNASTY

— 3 —

The entrance hall of Medici Manor was breathtaking. Crystal chandeliers hung from ceilings, and marble floors gleamed under Michael’s shoes as the butler led him through corridors lined with Paintings he suspected cost more than he’d earn in several lifetimes.

“The family is gathering in the grand ballroom,” the butler explained. “May I take your coat, sir?”

Michael shrugged off his worn overcoat, suddenly self-conscious about the rental suit beneath. No matter how nice it had looked in his apartment mirror, here it felt like a child’s costume.

“This way, Mr. Sullivan.”

The grand ballroom opened before him like a beautiful scene. Michael recognized several faces from his research. The inner circle of the Medici empire.

A hush fell over the nearest group as Michael entered. He felt their eyes assessing him, measuring his worth and finding it lacking.

“Well, well,” came a melodic female voice. “The paperboy finally delivers himself.”

Victoria Medici approached, her smile as sharp as the diamond choker around her neck. She wore a maroon dress and it hung to her body tightly.

“Victoria,” Michael acknowledged, struggling to keep his voice steady. “Nice to, uh, finally meet you... officially, I guess.”

Her smile faltered slightly. “You clean up better than I expected, though that suit...” She reached out and fingered the lapel of his jacket. “Department store rental, I’m guessing? At least you made an effort.”

Before Michael could respond, Phillip appeared at Victoria’s side, Hillary clinging to his arm like an expensive accessory.

“Michael! Glad you could make it,” Phillip said. He extended his hand. “Welcome to the family gathering.”

Michael shook it briefly, noting how Phillip’s other arm remained firmly around Hillary’s waist. She avoided Michael’s eyes, suddenly fascinated by her champagne.

“Quite the place you have here,” Michael said with forced casualness.

“Oh, this isn’t my place. Not yet, anyway,” Phillip replied with a laugh that several nearby guests echoed. “But we’re all very curious why Father wanted you here tonight. It’s been what...twenty years of absence?”

“Twenty six,” Michael corrected. “I’m as curious as you are.”

An uncomfortable silence followed, broken by the arrival of two other siblings. The Zhou-Medici twins. They circled Michael like predators examining a prey that strayed into their territory.

“So this is the half-brother,” said Mei, holding up her phone.

“Not much to look at,” replied Feng, tapping something into her own phone. “But imagine the story: ‘Abandoned Love Child Appears at Family Gathering.’ Our followers would eat it up.”

“Mei, Feng,” Victoria chided. “Be nice to our... guest.”

Michael clenched his jaw. “I didn’t come here for a family bonding session. I also want to know why I was invited here.”

“Trust me, we’re all curious,” muttered Hillary, speaking for the first time. She drained her champagne glass and immediately grabbed another from a passing server.

Michael was saved from responding by a light tap on his shoulder. He turned to find a man about his height with thoughtful eyes and a warm smile.

“You must be Michael,” the man said. “I’m Octavian Medici. I sent the car.”

“Why?” Michael asked bluntly.

Octavian shrugged. “Because I know what it’s like to feel out of place in this family, and I thought you might appreciate not having to worry about transportation on top of everything else.”

There was something disarming about Octavian’s frankness. Michael found himself relaxing slightly. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

“Come, let me get you a drink,” Octavian said, guiding Michael away from the others. “You look like you could use one.”

As they walked to the bar, Octavian pointed out the other siblings. “Maxwell is by the window, the one who looks like he’d rather be anywhere else. He’s technically my brother-in-law but took Victoria’s name when they married. Strange arrangement.”

Michael spotted the man. He has an athletic build and looked way too handsome.

“And the young woman by the painting is Elizabeth,” Octavian continued. “We call her Lizzy. She’s the baby of the family.”

Lizzy was small in stature, with a delicate frame that made her look younger than her age. She was examining a painting with intense concentration, ignoring everything else around her.

“She seems okay,” Michael observed.

Octavian laughed. “Don’t let her size fool you. Lizzy has the biggest attitude of anyone here. She considers herself intellectually superior to the rest of us. Said something about is not being ‘educated’ enough.”

The bartender handed Michael a whiskey, which he accepted gratefully.

“So,” Octavian continued, “now you’ve met the Medici dynasty. You'd say were not quite the warmest of families, right?”

“Not quite,” Michael agreed, taking a long sip. The whiskey was better than anything he’d ever tasted. Soon, Lizzy approached them. Up close, she was prettier than Michael had expected, with intelligent eyes that assessed him coldly.

“So you’re the bastard everyone’s talking about,” she said without preamble. “The maid’s son.”

Michael stiffened. “My mother had a name. Michelle Sullivan.”

“I know who she was,” Lizzy replied. “Father kept her picture, you know. Hidden in his study. Found it when I was twelve.”

“Watch your mouth, Lizzy,” warned Octavian.

Suddenly the room fell silent. All heads turned toward the double doors at the far end of the ballroom, which opened to reveal a thin, elderly man supported by a nurse on one side and a cane on the other.

Frank Medici had arrived.

Despite his frail appearance, Frank still commanded attention. His white hair and suit were immaculately styled. His eyes were sharp, like Lizzy’s. Those eyes eventually found Michael, and for a moment, they simply stared at each other across the crowded room. Father and son, meeting for the first time in memory.

Michael felt a surge of emotions he couldn’t name. Frank seemed calm, and only gave Michael a small nod. Then he addressed the gathering with a booming voice:

“Thank you all for coming. The time has come to discuss the future of the Medici legacy.”