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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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Pierre came back to the mansion, practically vibrating with triumphant energy. He was immediately ushered into Caleb's private study, where Caleb was standing by the massive windows looking out over the pristine lawns. "It is done, sir," Pierre announced breathlessly, stepping into the room and opening his pristine leather briefcase.
He informed Caleb that the official handover of the legal documents was all completely finished. He walked over to the desk, handing him the thick, state embossed legal documents. The seals of the Governor of Lemoyne and the state supreme court were stamped in heavy, undeniable red wax at the bottom of the pages.
Caleb took the heavy parchment in his hands. He smiled happily, a genuine, deeply satisfied expression crossing his handsome face as he looked at the legal documents explicitly declaring that he was now the absolute, undisputed owner of the lands.
His eyes scanned the topographical maps attached to the deeds. He didn't just own a few acres. He now held massive, sprawling tobacco fields included in his business portfolio. The sheer scale of the acquisition was staggering. He had successfully merged the blood soaked territories of the two greatest rival families in the South.
The harvest from both the Grays' Caliga Hall and the Braithwaites' former manor lands would be consolidated under one single, monopolistic banner.
The agricultural yield would be astronomical. The tobacco harvests would be massive, generating hundreds of thousands of dollars in pure, legitimate, taxable revenue that would perfectly launder the illicit profits of his casinos and extortion rackets. He controlled the vice, he controlled the weapons, and now, he controlled the very earth of Lemoyne.
"You have outdone yourself, Pierre," Caleb praised him, carefully setting the priceless documents down on his desk and locking them inside a heavy steel drawer. "The Thorne Corporate Holding Company is officially the largest landowner in the state. I will see to it that your firm is generously rewarded this evening."
Pierre bowed deeply, his chest swelling with pride. "Thank you, Don. It is the crowning achievement of my career."
Just as Pierre stepped back to take his leave, the heavy oak doors of the study opened once again.
At this exact time, Antonio arrived. The head butler's face was unreadable, but his pace was brisk, signaling an interruption of the highest priority. He stepped into the room, holding a small, silver tray. Resting upon it was a single, sealed envelope bearing the distinct, eagle stamped crest of the United States Senate.
"Forgive the interruption, sir," Antonio murmured, presenting the tray. "But a federal courier just delivered this via the express rail. He said it required your immediate, personal attention. It is a letter from Senator Pendleton."
Hearing that name, Caleb's heart gave a rare, heavy thump of genuine anticipation. He immediately reached out, snatching the envelope from the silver tray. He didn't bother with a letter opener, he simply tore the heavy paper open with his fingers and pulled out the crisp, high quality stationary inside.
Caleb's sharp blue eyes rapidly scanned the frantic, elegant cursive handwriting of the corrupt Washington politician.
As he read the contents of the letter, the breath caught slightly in Caleb's throat.
Inside, it explicitly stated that Senator Pendleton had succeeded. Against all bureaucratic odds, facing the sheer stubbornness of the remaining Pinkerton National Detective Agency and the Department of Justice, the massive, thirty thousand dollar bribe had worked flawlessly.
Pendleton wrote that he had managed to successfully convince, blackmail, and pay off all of the federal judges, treasury clerks, and law enforcement directors needed to completely clear out the bounties placed on the heads of the Van der Linde gang.
"The paperwork has been signed by the Attorney General himself," the letter read. "It is already on the way. The federal bounties are currently in the active process of being completely recollected. The telegraph wires are burning across the country as we speak. Every sheriff's office, every federal marshal outpost, and every licensed bounty hunter's guild has been officially informed of the bounties being declared entirely void and permanently terminated. The men you protect are officially free citizens of the United States."
As Caleb read those final, impossible words, a profound, overwhelming wave of absolute relief washed over him. Of course, this news brought a big, incredibly bright smile to his face. It wasn't the dark, predatory smirk of a mafia Don conquering a rival, it was the genuine, joyous smile of a man who had just saved his family from the hangman's noose.
Caleb folded the letter carefully, treating it with more reverence than he had treated the deeds to the Gray plantation. This piece of paper was worth more than all the gold buried in Scarlett Meadows.
He knew immediately that he had to share this. Which he will immediately share to the entire gang members, to let them know that the long, agonizing nightmare of their outlaw lives was finally, definitively over.
Caleb turned to look at Antonio, his blue eyes blazing with a fierce, celebratory fire that the butler had rarely ever seen.
"Antonio," Caleb commanded, his voice ringing with a powerful, joyous authority that echoed off the walls of the study.
"Yes, Don?" Antonio replied, standing perfectly straight.
"I want you to spare absolutely no expense," Caleb said to him, gesturing broadly with his hands. "I would like you to arrange and hold a massive, extravagant banquet for the entire mafia. I want every single made man, every capo, and every soldier currently off duty to be invited to the estate tonight. I want the finest food, the oldest whiskey, and the best music this city has to offer."
Antonio's eyes widened slightly at the sheer scale of the request, but he bowed his head instantly. "It shall be a feast worthy of kings, sir. But if I may ask... what is the occasion for such a sudden celebration?"
Caleb looked out the window, watching the remaining capos patrol the pristine white gravel of his driveway, a deep, satisfied peace settling into his soul.
"Because, Antonio," Caleb smiled, turning back to his most trusted confidant. "I have a very important announcement to make to my men tonight. About our future... and about my name."
Hearing that incredibly dramatic and mysterious declaration, Antonio was, of course, genuinely surprised. It took a great deal to catch the veteran head butler off guard.
He had served the Thorne syndicate through gunfights, extortion campaigns, and the hostile takeovers of entire counties, always maintaining a mask of polite, unflappable stoicism.
But the sheer weight of what Caleb was implying, the public revelation of his true name and the official end of the Van der Linde gang's status as hunted fugitives, caused a brief flicker of shock to cross Antonio's hardened features.
Quickly recovering his professional composure, Antonio bowed his head deeply. "Right away, sir. It will be an absolute honor to organize such a historic gathering. When exactly would you like the celebration to be held?"
Caleb looked back toward the warmth of the dining room, his mind buzzing with the adrenaline of absolute victory. He didn't want to wait. The federal wires were already burning with the news of their exoneration, and he wanted his family to celebrate their freedom immediately.
"I want it to be done as soon as possible," Caleb stated, his voice ringing with decisive authority. "If it is logistically possible, I want it held tomorrow night. Bring in extra staff, pay double wages to the caterers, do whatever you have to do. If tomorrow is simply too tight of a schedule to gather the men, then I want it held by the absolute end of this week. No later. I want the champagne flowing before the ink on that federal decree even has a chance to fully dry."
"Understood, Don McLaughlin," Antonio nodded his head in complete understanding. "I will dispatch the runners and coordinate with the kitchen staff immediately. The grand ballroom will be prepared for a celebration the likes of which this city has never seen."
With his orders perfectly received, Antonio took a step back, bowed once more, and quietly took his leave, the heavy mahogany doors of the dining room clicking shut behind him as he went to mobilize the household.
Caleb remained in the dining room, turning his attention back to the sole remaining occupant.
Pierre, the brilliant corporate attorney who had just handed Caleb the keys to the entire southern half of the state, was still sitting at the massive table. He was currently packing the last of his legal briefs into his leather briefcase, looking thoroughly exhausted but incredibly proud of the empire-building he had just accomplished.
Caleb walked slowly over to the table, pouring himself one final, small glass of the vintage French wine. He took a sip, letting the silence stretch for a moment before shifting the conversation away from corporate monopolies and blood soaked property deeds. It was time to discuss a much more personal matter.
"So, Pierre," Caleb asked casually, leaning against the edge of the heavy mahogany table and looking down at the lawyer. "Tell me. How is your relationship development with Tilly progressing?"
Hearing that sudden, highly personal question coming from the most dangerous man in Lemoyne, Pierre instantly froze.
The confident, ruthless legal shark who had just openly discussed bribing federal judges and extorting state politicians suddenly looked like a terrified schoolboy who had just been caught stealing an apple.
Pierre became visibly embarrassed. His cheeks flushed a deep, uncomfortable shade of crimson beneath the gas lights of the chandelier. He fumbled with the brass latches of his briefcase, letting out several nervous, awkward coughs as he desperately tried to clear his throat.
"Oh... well, um," Pierre stammered, pulling at the collar of his expensive dress shirt as if the room had suddenly become ten degrees hotter. He looked up at Caleb, acutely aware that he was dating a woman who was fiercely protected by a billionaire mob boss. "It is... it is going incredibly well, my Don. She is a remarkable woman. Truly. We have been spending a great deal of time together, walking through the gardens, and I have taken her to the theater a few times. She is... she is very special to me."
Caleb stared at the lawyer for a long, quiet moment. His sharp blue eyes seemed to pierce right through Pierre's tailored suit, analyzing the man's absolute sincerity. Seeing the genuine affection and the healthy dose of sheer terror in the lawyer's eyes, Caleb slowly nodded his head.
Caleb reached out, placing a heavy, firm hand on Pierre's shoulder and giving it a reassuring, yet undeniably intimidating, pat.
"I am very glad to hear that, Pierre," Caleb said, his voice dropping into a low, protective rumble that left absolutely zero room for misinterpretation. The charismatic businessman faded away, replaced entirely by the fiercely loyal brother figure of the Van der Linde gang.
"But you listen to me very carefully," Caleb warned him, his grip tightening just a fraction of an inch on the lawyer's shoulder. "Do not hurt her in any way. Do not break her heart, do not lie to her, and do not treat her as anything less than a queen. That young woman has gone through so many terrible things in her life before she ever stepped foot in this mansion. She has survived nightmares that would break a man like you in half. I think of her as my own family. She is my blood."
Caleb leaned in slightly closer, ensuring the sheer gravity of his words anchored themselves deep in Pierre's soul.
"If you make her cry, Pierre, or if I find out you have mistreated her," Caleb stated with a chilling, absolute calmness, "you will not be dealing with a lawsuit. You will answer directly to me. And there is not a legal loophole in the world that will save you. Do we understand each other?"
Hearing that terrifying, ironclad ultimatum, Pierre didn't hesitate for a single second. The lawyer immediately nodded his head frantically, his eyes wide with profound understanding.
"Yes! Yes, absolutely, Don McLaughlin!" Pierre assured Caleb, his voice trembling with absolute sincerity. "I swear to you on my life, I will not hurt her. I hold her in the highest possible regard. I would never dream of causing her a moment of distress!"
Caleb held his gaze for one more second before finally releasing the lawyer's shoulder. The heavy, suffocating pressure in the room vanished as Caleb offered a warm, charming smile, seamlessly transitioning back into the gracious employer.
"Good," Caleb said smoothly, stepping back and gesturing toward the dining room doors. "Then we have no problems. You have done spectacular work for this family today, Pierre. Now, take your leave. Go home, get some sleep, and do whatever you feel you need to do to celebrate your legal victories. You have earned a rest."
Pierre let out a massive, shuddering breath of relief. He grabbed his heavy leather briefcase, bowed deeply to the Don, and practically sprinted out of the dining room, eager to escape the terrifying, protective aura of the mafia boss.
After that intense evening, the days began to pass in a steady, victorious rhythm.
With the absolute success of the legal transition of the Grays and the Braithwaites' massive tracts of land, the Don once again became the dominant, inescapable talk of the entire city of Saint Denis. The sheer magnitude of the real estate acquisition sent absolute shockwaves through the Southern high society.
The wealthy elites, the corrupt politicians, and the rival industrialists whispered frantically in their private clubs and parlors. They all knew that his power and his financial influence had just grown even further, reaching a level of monopolistic control that was practically unheard of in the modern era.
The lands belonging to those two ancient, feuding families were worth an astronomical sum of money. But it wasn't just the dirt and the historic plantation houses that made the acquisition so terrifyingly lucrative, it was the fact that the land also contained sprawling, fully operational tobacco farms.
By legally seizing those fields, it meant that the Don now had another massive, incredibly profitable set of income for his criminal family. The tobacco trade was one of the most reliable, high yield industries in the American South. The harvest would be processed, packaged, and shipped out on the very railways that Caleb was already extorting, creating a flawless, vertically integrated corporate empire.
Furthermore, the legal acquisition explicitly meant that a completely new town was now entirely under his legitimate control. The town of Rhodes was no longer just occupied by his armed capos, it was legally owned by his holding company.
He owned the bank, he owned the general store, he owned the saloons, and he owned the sheriff. In the wake of this monumental shift in power, a massive set of congratulations was sent directly to the Don's heavily fortified Garden District mansion.
The local elites, desperate to curry favor with the undisputed king of Lemoyne, sent a mountain of tributes. The grand foyer of the estate was quickly filled with hundreds of ornate, gold embossed greeting cards and massive, vibrant arrangements of expensive flowers. But more importantly, the tributes came in the form of alcohol.
Politicians, shipping magnates, and frightened rival businessmen sent crates of vintage, century old bottles of French wines, incredibly rare Scottish whiskeys, and ridiculously expensive imported liquors, all hoping that their gifts would keep Caleb from turning his hostile takeover tactics toward their own businesses.
Caleb accepted all of it happily, of course. He instructed the household staff to clear the flowers and catalog the cards, but he was especially pleased with the drinks.
He was a man who appreciated the finer things in life, and seeing the massive crates of top shelf alcohol being hauled down into his underground cellars brought a very satisfied smirk to his face. It was the perfect scenario, it could massively increase his private drinks collection, and he didn't need to spare a single dime of his own money to do it. The city was actively paying for the privilege of being intimidated by him.
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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 MAX)
- Sneaking (Lvl MAX)
- Horse Mastery (Lvl MAX)
- Poker (Lvl MAX)
- Hand to Hand Combat (Lvl MAX)
- Eagle Eye (Lvl MAX)
- Dead Eye (Lvl MAX)
- Bow (Lvl MAX)
- Pain Nullifier (Lvl MAX)
- Physical Regeneration (Lvl MAX)
- Crafting (Lvl MAX)
- Persuasion (Lvl MAX)
- Mental Fortitude (Lvl MAX)
- Cooking (Lvl MAX)
- Teaching (Lvl MAX)
- Trilingual Language Proficiency - G, I, & C (Lvl MAX)
- Inventory System (Permanent - 100x100x100)
- Acting (Lvl MAX)
- Alcohol Resistance (Lvl MAX)
- Treasure Hunter (Lvl MAX)
- Drugs Resistance (Lvl MAX)
- Business (Lvl MAX)
- Leadership (Lvl MAX)
Money: 2,772 dollars and 60 cents
Inventory: 283,392 dollars and 61 cents, 11 gold nuggets, 74 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 Broken Pirate Sword, 1 Milton's Safety Deposit Key, Proof Of Marlin-Thorne Firearms Co., 10 Dynamites, 1 LeMat, 1 M1899, 1 Carcano, 1 Ownership deed of Doyle's Tavern, 3 Diamonds, & Important Documents & Deeds Of Cornwall
Bank: -