The Family: Chapter 2: Heart of Darkness/The Invitation

The deeper you go, the harder it is to escape.

Chapter 2: Heart of Darkness/The Invitation

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Hemisphere Magazine, Fifth Avenue, Manhattan

I arrived in the morning as I normally would any Monday and by the time I got to the reception desk, my assistant, Claire was already blowing my well-intended morning to-do list to hell and back again.

“Morning, Adrian,” she said in a tight clip, her tablet cradled in her arms as she walked alongside me as we passed the soaring floor to ceiling windows looking out across a dreary, rainy Manhattan. “Celia wants to see you right away,” Claire said, “Any idea what its about?” I asked because any summoning to Celia Patterson’s office could be a coveted assignment or a punishing, impossible task and I frankly, didn’t care for the prospect of either on this day.

As we approached Celia’s domain, Claire broke off as I broached the entrance to Celia’s sanctum. “Adrian!” Claire called out with her perfect veneer of practiced gentility honed by years growing up climbing New York’s social register. Celia always had this way about her where her seeming niceties could be masking hate, indifference or annoyance and thanks to the coating of armor she created around herself as a survival mechanism, it was hard to read her nonetheless. Celia rarely said what she felt often relying on her inflection to truly convey meaning and emotion — this was a dance Celia and I knew all too well and danced often.

Celia’s praise could be rare and fleeting but I almost admired the way she held it so close to the vest, her restrained praise always keeping us pursuing the next great story.

So,” Celia began, her gaze fixed on the rain streaking down the windows. “You’re familiar with The Family, yes?”

“Of course,” I said in sort of a no shit manner, “Who isn’t?” I asked dreading where this was going.

“Moira Sterling is hosting a grand birthday celebration on their private island off the coast of Colombia. Six days, five nights, A spectacle, I’m sure. Celebrities, debutantes, everyone clamoring for a glimpse into their world.” She paused, letting the tension hang before adding, “And you’ve been personally selected to write the exclusive feature.”

“And you…” Celia said letting the tension just sort of linger, “…Have been selected personally by The Family to write an exclusive feature on the birthday bash,” Celia told me.

The words hit like a punch as I was already sensing a pitfall of some kind.

“But why me?” I asked trying my hardest to wrestle my way out of this seeming bear trap. “Surely someone from Entertainment is more suited for this?” I asked.

“The Family specifically requested you.” Celia said again with a cold certainty.

“Look at it this way,” Celia instructed me, “You and I both have our own thoughts about The Family - they’re horribly dreadful, you and I both know this,” Celia said as if letting me in on a little secret.

“So use this as your exclusive entry—just you and The Family alone for six days and five nights giving insight into one of the world’s most elusive and exclusive families and figure out what really makes them tick—why is the world so fascinated with them? Oh, and you’re the only journalist being invited.”

“You could really use this to your advantage, Adrian, and write a career highlight feature,” Celia assured me, “or you could walk away and watch someone else write it,” In some way I saw through my preconceptions and realized she may be right. I also had my own business with The Family I had to settle for good and this could be the perfect entree into their world to get the truth I had sought for so long once and for all.

“I’m in,” I said willfully jumping into the deep end, eager to see where this would lead.

“I figured you would be,” Celia said with an arched eyebrow, I knew she would be watching me closely, no fucking up now.

“I’ll send your travel info to Claire, expect to be in Cartagena by Wednesday,” Celia said in a manner that sounded more like a threat than an instruction.

As I walked back to my office, Celia’s words snagged in my head The Family specifically requested you. Celia’s words echoed in my head, dragging up memories I’d worked hard to bury. Why me? Why now?

I passed the nameplate to my office reading Adrian Locke, features editor. Calling out to Claire, I asked for a coffee and as I hunched myself over my desk, Claire came in and deposited the mug on my desk.

“The Family, huh?” Claire asked inquisitively, “Elektra’s my favorite,” Claire added.

“How’d you know about that?” I asked.

“Word travels fast,” Claire told me.

“I don’t know if I should feel lucky or like I’m being punished for something,” I grumbled.

“I’m sure it will be an Adrian Locke classic,” Claire reassured me and for a moment I thought maybe she’d be right especially if everything went according to plan.

Heart of Darkness Suite 🎵🎵▶️

I tapped at the touchscreen surface of my desk and pulled up the magazine archive and selected a few articles I had in a file folder on my desk, the articles came to life and took up the surface of my desk, I stared at the one in particular: “The Pauper and the Princess: Celeste’s heartbreak.” Alongside a photo of Celeste Stirling were photos of a mangled car wreck, one I knew all too well, the image tearing at my gut and sending waves of sadness through me.

Ethan Grayson was a college roommate of mine and from day one, we were fast friends and our bond transcended the traditional college ties that bind: chasing girls, rushing fraternities, Ethan and I often joked that we were separated at birth and that our bond had somehow defied the rules of time and space and that we were destined to be in each others lives. And the way Ethan nurtured our friendship, it really did feel like destiny fulfilled.

Over the years we shared heartaches, heartbreaks and happy times. We held each others secrets —and we held each other’s hopes, dreams and aspirations. Ethan wanted to become an artist but after a few curveballs of life, Ethan ended up becoming a carpenter with his brother— his actual biological brother. He would tell me about how much regret he carried for missing his calling but that working with his hands was the next best thing.

Then came Celeste — Ethan had been contracted to work on Celeste’s ski lodge in The Catskills and as luck would have it, the two quickly became an item. I listened to Ethan go on and on about how Celeste was “the one” — how much she loved his passion for art and his carpentry — and how much he longed to be a part of The Family.

One night, he and I talked and he told me about how “tonight was the night,” and that after many a date, tonight would be the night that he and Celeste finally “sealed the deal.” Ethan looked at this moment as being the first step into being welcomed into The Family and that maybe once he had been invited in, he could finally put his time and attention towards being an artist with Celeste’s backing.

But such an invitation would never come, I would get a phone call the next morning telling me that Ethan’s car had swerved to avoid a car and driven off the road into a ravine killing him on impact. While I grieved for Ethan, I was shocked to learn that his Electronic car was in self driving mode at the time of the accident and that the brakes never engaged.

As I processed the sadness of Ethan’s passing I also found it odd that The Family instead of expressing regret and remorse instead hid behind a cloak of articles painting their love story as a sort of doomed tale of “star-crossed” lovers. Many of the press called this “The Princess and the Pauper” which reduced Ethan to a sad punchline.

Even more troubling, Celeste quickly rebounded from Ethan’s death and soon was dating Shakai Peters, a well known pop star, who later drowned mysteriously in his pool. Similarly, Celeste’s sister, Onyx had numerous relationships with high profile individuals who all died under similarly mysterious circumstances.

It would seem that The Family racks up seemingly-perfect pairings for its seemingly-perfect offspring almost as fast as it racks up dead bodies.

My question was…why? And not just why but why had no one else come to this conclusion? Was The Family using threats, co-erosion or violence to hide something even more sinister?

I was on a mission to find out - not just what happened to my friend but what heart of darkness lurked at the nexus of celebrity and fame.

But with all great journeys into the heart of darkness, I wasn’t prepared for how deep it might pull me and what I might lose along the way.

I met Gideon Marks later that night in a seedy bar on the Lower East Side. In doing my prep for the article, I wanted to find a source I could quote about the inner workings of The Family. I was astounded to discover that no one anywhere had ever gone on record of what it was like to work for The Family. I realized a family as powerful as the Sterlings had iron clad contracts and non disclosure agreements. But I found it somewhat telling that nothing ever had leaked about the inner goings on at Sterling Mansion.

So you can imagine my surprise when I found my way to Gideon, he practically jumped at the chance to help. Gideon was a former house assistant at Sterling Manor who had since decamped to New York.

Gideon appeared to be nervous, shaky and his voice quickened with a sort of razored panic. He kept looking nervously over his shoulder when meeting me at the bar - to my surprise there was no one in the bar but this comforted him none.

Gideon nervously pulled out a small item from his pocket that looked like a bullet, twisting the tip, a small light came on etched into the metal. Gideon put this on the bar between us and then said as if sharing a deep secret, “You can never be to safe, The Family has eyes and ears everywhere, if The Family knew I was talking to you, it could be bad, for both of us” he said with a searing intensity that sounded laced with real terror as opposed to the incoherent ramblings of a seeming madman.

“So here’s the thing,” he said, “The Family is not what it appears.” While Gideon was too nervous to give me any hard details, all he would be willing to tell me was this, “You have to end them,” he said, his eyes burning with earned conviction.

Pushing a vial across the bar towards me he said, “This will end them once and for all, I promise you,” he urged, “one of them will try to seduce you,” Gideon warned, “When that happens, inject this,” he instructed pointing to the needled point on the vial.

“And then what?” I asked hoping for an answer.

“Then the Family is over,” Gideon said cryptically.

“I’ve said all I can say,” Gideon said trying to make a hasty exit.

“You’re a smart reporter, figure it out, expose them for what they are and then end them, forever,” he pleaded with me.

In a rush, Gideon pushed his way out the door of the bar, Gideon paused at the door, his silhouette trembling. “You don’t understand,” he said without looking back. “They’re not like us. They never were.” And then he was gone.

I stared at the vial, its needle catching the light. I didn’t know if Gideon was a madman or the only one brave enough to see the truth. Either way, I couldn’t turn back now. I didn’t know if Gideon was crazy or the only one who saw the truth. But one thing was clear—I couldn’t turn back now. If The Family had secrets, I was going to find them—and expose them for what they really were.