‘Then you will never fully achieve the success of which you have dreamed. You will find yourself forever locked out of a whole world of advantage enjoyed only by a privileged few. You will have walked away from the single most promising opportunity of your lifetime.’

But before he accepted this great honour, they warned him, he must be fully aware of one thing. Once inducted as a Brother of the Order, there was no leaving. He, like all his fellow members, would be bound by an oath of loyalty that must be obeyed until his dying day. There were no exemptions, not for anyone, not for any reason. Failure to abide by the brotherhood’s strict code was an offence that would be met with the harshest of punishments.

‘What kind of punishment?’ he asked hesitantly.

‘The penalty is death,’ the older man told him.

Abbott was stunned by the reply. He swallowed hard and stared into his drink. ‘I need time to think before making a decision.’

The man shook his head. ‘No, Mr Abbott. You need to decide now.’

And so it was done. That same night, Abbott underwent an induction ceremony the likes of which he could never have imagined in his wildest dreams – or his most feverish fantasies. It could have driven him insane. But it didn’t. He had never felt more exhilarated in his life. His vetters had been right: the new recruit was a perfect fit for the brotherhood. The things he saw and did over the next months and years, the sheer headiness of the experiences that were reserved only for the chosen few, turned his blood to champagne and filled him with a sense of invulnerability.

Anthony Abbott had been well and truly on his way, back in those golden days.

But the passing of the years had not been kind to this once rising star of British politics. The dizzy heights of career achievement that he’d been assured of never quite did materialise. He’d given these people everything he had, been true and loyal to their damned brotherhood, and yet their promises seemed to fall flat. Over time, Abbott had started to feel that his mentors were growing less and less interested in his progress as newer, younger, apparently more worthy protégés caught up and overstepped him. All he could do was watch in frustration as men he considered his inferiors became richer and more powerful than him.

So much for limitless success. So much for belonging to the hallowed elite.

Abbott felt cheated. He felt he’d been lied to. What was the point of selling your soul to the Devil if you couldn’t reap the benefits?