They call us The Four Horsemen.
Four friends forged in fire and blood.
No one knows where we came from nor how we got our name.
Drake, Francis, West and I rule the financial industry like kings.
Gods in our own right.
We grew up with a fifth. A girl. Scarlett.
She was one of us until she was ripped away from her life. The only trace of her was dust in the wind.
One day she returned to the city and sought us out. Scarlett couldn’t remember who we’d been to her, but we recalled her all too well.
If she knew what was good for her, she would have never come back. The moment she stepped through the doors of Fortuity, it was the beginning of her end. And the start of our reign over the girl who wanted us dead.
They say violence is never the answer.
I beg to differ. There’s no peace without a little pain.
Drake, Prescott, Francis and I are monsters who live up to their name.
The Four Horsemen.
Gods reincarnated as men.
Scarlett returned to the fold, but not as the girl we once knew. The girl I’d been obsessed with my whole life. The one I’d have given everything for.
It all changed when she walked into Fortuity and gave us a run for our money. Battle lines were drawn. Flags erected. And we were at a stalemate.
If she thought we were backing down, she was in for a wakeup call. It was time Scarlett learnt who she really was. And why we would never let her go again.
They say you shouldn’t hoard your wealth.
Those people know nothing of the power it brings.
Drake, West, Prescott and I are untouchable.
The men known as the Four Horsemen.
Gods ruling over our kingdom.
There are some secrets in this world greater than others. Our fifth was going to find that out the hard way.
Scarlett thought she knew why she’d come back, but she had no idea what lay in the dark recesses of her memories.
It started when we returned her to our sides. When we let desire fuel our needs. And it will end when the truth comes to light.
They call us the men who will drive the world to its knees.
The Four Horsemen.
A pity for them really.
Prescott, West, Francis and I are done with our masks of civility.
Gods who turned on their subjects.
When you unleash death, nothing can withstand it. Everything perishes in the wake of the executioner. The only things left to show for it are ash and dust.
We had allowed our enemies to take from us for far too long. The tables had finally turned. Our woman had arrived to usher in the end.
Scarlett was the catalyst. The fuse.
The match was burning. Time was running out.
And we were about to bring war to the man who stole her from us all those years ago.