Chapter 46 Daniel
DANIEL
“It’s a good thing I didn’t toss all your clothes out, huh?” Claudia said after I joined her in the kitchen.
“Definitely.” I smiled at her while she sipped from her mug.
“Want some?” she offered, pointing over the fresh pot of coffee.
“Yes, please.”
Placing a glass in front of me, the one I always used to drink from, Claudia moved to fill it up.
I watched her as she did, thinking about last night.
After dinner, we stayed up until late, and I told her about everything that had happened.
It was a complicated conversation, mostly due to Claudia’s hard feelings toward Elliot.
And yet, for that one night, she put it all aside and was a listening ear.
“You know, thinking about what you said yesterday,” Claudia started saying as I took the first sip of coffee. “Don’t you think Theodore might have something to do with that?”
Still drinking, my brows drew inward.
“My father? How come?”
“We both know he’s a total asshole.”
“More like a pig.”
“That would be an insult to pigs,” she sneered.
I snorted, fully agreeing on that.
“Back to my point. It’s not too much of a stretch to think he did something to chase away Elliot.”
I grimaced at the melodramatic idea that suited one of her telenovelas. “What, you think he paid him off?”
“No…” She gave me an irritated look. “More like he said something or threatened him.”
Thinking about it, she did have a point, but—
“You think he’d go to such lengths?”
With one hand on her waist, Claudia looked at me with a raised brow, her expression saying it all, as we both knew the answer to my question was a roaring yes.
My father was beyond capable of doing something like that, and while I was skeptical it was indeed the case, it was still worth checking it out.
That afternoon, I decided to visit Father. Meeting with him wasn’t my first choice, but it didn’t matter, as I was willing to do whatever it took to find Elliot. Thanks to Sherry, who, despite no longer being my employee, still seemed eager to assist me, I knew he was home.
The cab pulled up in front of my parents’ town house in the Upper East Side.
And while it had been months since I last visited here, I couldn’t say I missed it.
Discomfort settled in my gut, and my body tensed as I climbed the stairs leading to the house.
My last meeting with Father also didn’t make it any easier, and only God knew what was waiting for me once I got inside.
Bracing myself, I took a deep breath and knocked on the large wooden door, stepping back while waiting for it to be answered.
I’d expected one of the housekeepers to open it, but instead, it was my sister, Catherine.
“What are you doing here?” she snarled, brows drawn close and eyes narrowed.
So much for being welcome.
The noises coming from the house, along with the cocktail dress she wore, told me that a party was going on inside. A party I was clearly not invited to.
“I’m here to see Dad.”
Glancing over her shoulder, she then returned her eyes to me. “Mhmm, he’s not home—”
“Who’s at the door, Catherine?” Mother’s voice came from inside a moment before she appeared next to Catherine. “Oh, Daniel.”
Same as my sister, Mother also wore a fancy cocktail dress while holding a glass of champagne. Noticing I saw the glass, she attempted to hide it, and I rolled my eyes at her poor attempt.
“I assume my invitation was lost in the mail?” I asked the two of them, who responded with an awkward laugh.
“Darling, I just assumed you’d be busy with work.”
“Did you?”
“Why, yes, of course.”
“And here I thought you knew Father fired me.”
While Catherine did seem surprised, Mother faked a gasp. “Oh, did he now?”
Not about to waste more time on her bad acting, I passed them and walked inside the house. Just as I predicted, they were hosting a big party full of stuck-up guests and waiters walking between them and serving champagne.
Charming.
“Huh? They invited you after all?” my brother spat out with the most idiotic expression glued to his face. One that was more suitable for a goat than for a medical student.
If he were still one, that is.
“Looks like you spilled some wine on your shirt, brother,” I said, tapping his shoulder before passing him on my way to the main room, where I could hear Father’s voice coming from.
There, right at the center, he stood, blabbering his mouth about whatever bullshit made him feel self-important.
But the moment he noticed me, he shut up, and his eyes shot daggers at me from across the room.
What a pitiful man.
Mother, Catherine, and Andrew were right behind me, their stares digging a hole in my back, yet it didn’t stop me from approaching Father with my head held high.
“Why are you here?” he hissed, voice low, as if not to hurt the family prestige.
“I can either do it here, in front of everyone—” I looked around the busy room before my eyes went back to him. “—or in private. It’s your choice.”
He gritted his teeth, his jaw tensing like he was holding in a nasty fart, before he cocked his head aside, telling me to follow him.
Inside his office, he didn’t waste a minute before pouring himself a full glass of scotch, as if he couldn’t stand the sight of me without booze to ease it.
“So? Came to beg for your job?” he snarled, an ugly smirk glued to his lips.
“Not at all.” I brushed a hand over my suit, keeping my posture straight. “I’m here to ask if you’ve had any contact with Elliot.”
His whole face twisted with displeasure at the mention of Elliot’s name.
“Why would I waste a moment of my time on that thing?” he barked, spit flying from his mouth, some of it left to hang on his chin.
Lovely.
Ignoring the spit dangling there like a monkey on a tree, I asked, “So you didn’t do anything?”
He looked at me with satisfaction. “Why?” He took a long sip of his drink. “Did that slut leave you?”
I stayed quiet when he huffed.
“Whatever that whore did, I had nothing to do with it.”
Not letting him get to me, I stayed focused.
“There’s no need to get obscene. I only came here to find out something. But since you confirmed you had nothing to do with Elliot, I’ll leave.”
“Aren’t you tired of acting this way?”
I scowled. “What way?”
“This.” He waved his hand at me. “This rebellious nonsense you’ve decided to stick to. What is it that you’re after, more money? A better job? Is that why you suddenly turned your back on me?”
I didn’t plan to get angry, and yet, just then, my body turned rigid as my eyes widened at his accusation.
“Turned my back on you?” I hissed, shocked by his audacity.
“Throughout my life, I’ve done everything to make you proud.
I excelled in every role you assigned to me and went above and beyond in every task, no matter how questionable it was.
I bit my tongue whenever you humiliated me in front of others and laughed at my expense.
I allowed you to control my life, to push and rule me, and in the end, I was the one who turned his back on you? ”
His jaw twitched before he pointed his finger at my face. “You know very well what you did.”
“What did I do?” I asked, pushing his hand out of my way and getting closer. “Tell it to my face. What. Did. I. Do?”
“You turned into a homo,” he hissed, his words dripping with disgust.
“I didn’t turn gay. I was born that way,” I said, proud.
“Be quiet.”
“Never.”
His eyes nearly bulged out of his big head as a vein popped at the side of his temple. “Be quiet, or I’ll—”
“You’ll what? Pour another drink in my face? Fire me again? Do it.” I smiled at him, not at all intimidated. “It won’t change a thing, and I won’t care either way.”
He stepped away from me, but I wasn’t nearly finished with what I had to say to him.
“Why can’t you accept me the way I am? Why can’t you just be happy for me?”
He looked up, his face an ugly shade of crimson. “As long as you’re with that thing, you’re no son of mine.”
“But I am. Whether you like it or not, I am your flesh and blood.” I made sure to look him dead in the eyes. “And I love him. I love him more than you’ll ever know.”
His eyes burned with hate.
“Love? Don’t make me laugh. Two men together—” He shook his head. “—it’s a perversion.”
“It’s not. It’s beautiful.”
“It’s nasty. That’s what it is!” he growled, his voice echoing through the office. “You immoral freaks.”
Bowing my head down, I huffed, my lips pulled in a smile. “People who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.”
“What are you on about?” he snarled.
Looking up, I stared at him, unfazed. “You’ve been unfaithful to Mother since the day you got married, fucking girls young enough to be your daughters.
Mom is no better, screwing whoever catches her interest while wasting your money on only God knows what.
Catherine is a shallow, selfish girl who shoplifts in her spare time, and Andrew?
He’s completely lost himself in drugs and booze, almost getting kicked out of school as a result.
And instead of actually helping him, you fixed the problem by tossing money at it like you always do, as if money is a substitute for good parenting.
And yet, you think you have the right to lecture me about morals? ”
By now, his face was so red that I feared the vein on his temple would burst, and yet, I didn’t budge. Instead, I stood there, more confident in myself than I’d ever been before. Why? Because at last, I saw him for the pitiful, small man that he was—one without a drop of love in his life.
He stayed quiet for a few moments, then rounded the wooden table in his office, pulled something out of one of the drawers, and tossed it at me.
A letter.
“You feel all high-and-mighty, don’t you?” he said as I picked it up from the floor.
“What is this?”
“Proof that you tossed your life away for an unfaithful tramp.”
Opening the envelope, I pulled out the letter.
“I’ll save you the translation. It’s from one of his previous prey, another man who lost himself in this madness, who seems to still lust over your whore. Clearly, they’re keeping in touch, given the lewd crap he wrote there.”
“How did you get it?” I asked as I pushed the letter back inside the envelope.
“A guy I sent to follow that whore of yours picked it out of the garbage after he tried getting rid of the evidence. Sneaky little bitch.”
And while I couldn’t care less about what was written in the letter itself, I did care about the envelope.
With Father’s nonsense playing in the background like a broken record, I flipped it, my eyes going to the address written on the top, including the name of the small village in Provence, France, this letter was sent from.
I found you.
“You see, it’s a shame you risked it all for a mere slut. A man, at that. But if you agree to get back on the right track, I’m willing to forgive—”
“Elliot Dufort.”
“Huh?”
Lifting my gaze up from the miracle Father unknowingly gave me, I returned his stare.
“His name is Elliot Dufort, and you better remember it, as one day, I’m going to marry that man.”
Knowing I had a flight to catch, I moved to get out of there when he snapped.
“Take one more step and that’s it.”
I stopped, not because I was scared of his threat, but the opposite.
“And what will happen if I leave this office?”
With his face all red and sweaty, he narrowed his eyes on me. “Then you will no longer be a part of this family.”
That made it a hell of a lot easier.
“With a family like ours, there’s not much to lose, is there?” I offered him the last smile he’d ever receive from me.
Having nothing more to say or learn from him, I turned around and walked toward the door, his shouting following me.
Even when the bottle he tossed at me shattered on the wall, I didn’t stop.
Instead, I brushed my hand over my shoulder, cleaning it of the drops of booze that landed there before opening the door.
In the hallway, I found Mother, Catherine, and Andrew lurking outside Father’s office like a bunch of scavengers, there to feast on my remains and see what more they could get with my falling out of the will.
The joke was on them, as I never had any interest in the money they all held so close to their heart.
I was an outcast to this family the day I was born, and today, it simply turned official.
Yet all I left behind as I stepped out of this house wasn’t a loving family, but chains that had restricted me for far too long, and at last, I was free.
From there, I made a quick stop at our place to grab the things I needed for my long-awaited trip.
“Where to go, sir?” the taxi driver asked after I got inside the cab.
“JFK. And please hurry up,” I said, my hand holding the envelope while my heart beat fast, eager to find my French prince and bring him back home.