Chapter 42 Daniel
DANIEL
Last night was one of those sleepless nights where you wished morning would never come, and not for the right reasons.
With everything that had happened, I couldn’t catch a minute of sleep, and after shifting on my side of the bed for hours, I eventually gave up and moved to the living room.
I put on the most idiotic film I could find, hoping it would distract me enough to doze off.
It was no use—no matter what, the same unsettling thoughts gave me no break.
And now, it was time to face those so-called thoughts.
With my hands shoved in my trousers pockets, I waited for the elevator to reach the right floor.
When it tinged and the door opened, I stepped out.
Walking with my head held high and with confidence that would last for miles, I made my way toward Father’s office, not minding the nerves twisting in my guts.
“Good morning, Mr. Williams,” Heather, Father’s new secretary after the latest one was fired, greeted me.
I replied with a nod.
“He’s waiting for you.”
Slipping my hand out of my pocket, I smoothed it over my tie, took a short breath, and walked into the monster’s den.
When the door closed behind me, I knew there was no going back, and I gulped, forcing down the fear.
Regardless of today’s meeting, I always hated being here, as no matter the case, standing in this room made me feel like a kid.
But I presumed this was my father’s intention with how he chose to decorate his office, going for dark wood and ridiculous black marble and gold decorations.
“Father—”
He stood up and pressed the intercom, connecting him to his secretary.
“Sir?”
“Have you faxed my son’s office the files I asked you to?” he snarled, voice tight.
“Of course, sir.”
“When?”
“Yesterday, sir. When you asked me.”
“Have they sent anything in return?”
“No, sir. Not yet.”
Father moved his finger from the intercom before slowly lifting his gaze to meet mine.
“Mind explaining why this hasn’t happened yet?”
I frowned at his question, which was nothing if not a distraction, and tightened my jaw at his way of beating around the bush.
I knew he’d seen those photos, and after thinking about it all night, I had no doubt it was him behind it all.
I mean, it was too easy, wasn’t it? First, getting divorced, then moving my boyfriend to live with me in his city.
I bet my money Father had eyes on me this whole time and waited for the right moment he’d have enough evidence to use as leverage.
Apparently, that moment came last night.
“I didn’t have the time to get to it yet,” I finally answered his question.
“And why’s that?” He sat back down in his chair.
“I was busy.”
“Were you?”
I looked around, my jaw ticking with this bullshit.
“Father—”
“I’ve raised you to be an obedient son,” he cut me off.
Understanding my place, I pressed my lips shut and watched him as he fixed the papers on his desk into a neat pile.
“Your whole life, I fed you, paid for your every need, and pushed you into the right places. Without me, you’re nothing. That is why, when I ask you to do something, as simple as it may be, I expect it to be done immediately. No question asked. Am I clear?”
I gritted my teeth together. “Why don’t you just cut to the chase? You saw the photos—”
He smashed the papers down, making the whole desk rattle.
“Be quiet.”
“Why? Might as well let the cat out of the bag now—”
“Shut it!” Slamming his hands on the desk, he rose to his feet. “I will not have you talk about this temporary insanity that has gripped you in my presence,” he shouted, spit flying from his mouth.
Since the day I’d first learned I was attracted to men, I’d been scared of this moment.
And coming here today, I prepared myself for the worst. But the fact that we couldn’t even speak the words out loud was even more humiliating.
And as he walked over to pour himself a glass of scotch, I realized we were nothing but two fools who couldn’t admit reality—he out of sheer ignorance, and I out of cowardice.
The silence around us turned heavy, the tension so thick that there was barely any air left to breathe. And yet, rooted to the floor, I watched the golden liquor filling his glass like it was just another day.
After finishing his drink in one long gulp, and still with his back to me, he slammed the glass down and refilled it.
“You’re going to end this madness you’ve soiled yourself with today.” With his glass now full, he brought it to his lips and downed it. “Do I make myself clear?” he grunted, wiping the booze off his lips.
I didn’t answer and instead watched as he filled himself another glass. Turning to face me, he eyed me with disdain.
“Father—”
“Do I make myself clear?” he repeated in a monotonic voice that danced on my last nerve while he slowly walked toward me.
Now, standing right in my face, and unbothered that he had to look up to meet my stare due to me being taller, he studied me with resentment.
“Dad—”
Without batting an eye, he stretched out his arm and drained the contents of his drink on top of my head.
Staying put, I stood there as the alcohol dripped down my face, getting in my eyes and mouth before drenching my clothes.
The humiliation, on top of rejection, burned down my throat the same way the scotch stung my eyes.
“Be grateful I haven’t told your mother yet.
If she knew about the repulsive things her own son indulged in behind closed doors…
so help me God.” His lips curled with disgust, his crooked nose scrunched up like he could smell his own reeking breath.
“We’re done here. Now, get your nasty ass out of my face and end this shit. ”
“And what if I don’t?” I hissed, voice low.
“Then I’ll make sure to destroy you both, with that fairy being the first to go.” His eyes then darted down to my shoes, covered with his booze. “You’re getting my floors all dirty. Get out before I knock all your teeth out.”
My lips wavered, and so I pressed them together hard, refusing to let any emotion slip out in front of him. Not that this asshole cared, as he’d already turned his back on me and walked to his desk.
I lowered my head, well aware of what a pushover I was. Only yesterday, I’d promised Elliot no one would hurt him, and here I was, allowing this nasty piece of shit I called a father to threaten him.
“You’re still here?” he snarled without bothering to look up from the file he was reading.
Swallowing down my damaged pride, I turned around and left his office. All sticky and wet from the booze he’d poured on me, I fixed my tie. Not that it helped, considering how his secretary stared at me with such shock that her brows nearly reached her bleached hairline.
“A-are you okay, sir?”
I forced a smile.
“Never been better.”
My lie was as clear to her as it was to me, and yet, it didn’t stop any of us from moving on with our day. After all, I didn’t have the privilege of stopping and crying, as I always knew this moment would come. And now, there was only one thing left to do—
Go and see Elliot.
Elliot
My muscles ached, and even though I’d placed a blanket on the floor, my spine still hurt from the friction. “One more set,” I panted, out of breath, because even after one hour of stretching and four hundred sit-ups, I still hadn’t sweated enough.
At the last sit-up, my body shuddered, and I plunked down, a grunt leaving me once my back hit the floor.
With my hand placed on my abs, I slowly moved it to my ribs, feeling the bones sticking out.
I panted way more than I should have for such a simple workout, which was embarrassing. But it was better than nothing.
Moving into a sitting position, I tried to get up, but the second I stepped on my right foot, a sharp pain shot through me, and I slumped back down.
“F-fuck.” Tears gathered in my eyes, and I bit my bottom lip to overcome the burning pain in my ankle.
I hoped that in the morning, the pain would subside but it was ten times worse.
And to top it all off, my horrible fall played on repeat in my head.
By now, I was probably the industry joke, and it was only a matter of time before Vito would call to fire me.
No. No. No. I wouldn’t allow it.
Taking a deep breath, I placed my hands on the bed that was right next to me and used it for support as I moved to sit on it.
Halfway there.
Another deep breath, and I pushed up, trying to stand only on my left leg.
That’s a start.
After I stabilized myself, I looked at the bathroom and calculated how many steps it would take me to get there.
Walking was a lot easier when Daniel was here for me to lean on, but currently, all alone after he’d left for work, I had no other choice.
Limping, I slowly made my way toward the bathroom, panting and wheezing like some pig.
I didn’t even break my ankle, only sprained it, and it hurt so damn much.
By the time I reached the bathroom, my ankle felt like it was about to explode, and so did my lungs, but I ignored it all and pulled the scale from the cabinet.
Clenching the sink for support, I first placed my left foot on the scale.
“F-fuck,” I cried as I applied weight to my right foot.
Breathing through my nose, I adjusted to the pain before letting go of the sink.
My legs wobbled as I stood on the scale, waiting for the display to come up, but I had to endure it.