“I didn’t think you’d really come,” my father says as he enters the home office.

It’s mid-day now and the room looks completely different. The curtains that covered the big window behind the desk are now pulled back, letting warm sunshine stream in. I can see trees and flowers outside the window.

My father has always loved gardens. He has an army of gardeners to maintain the grounds around his mansion. It’s just like him to never want to get soil on his own hands even if he’s the one who gets to actually enjoy the results of the dirty work.

“You know me. I always come when you call. Besides, I don’t miss Officer Dumb and Officer Dumber,” I say.

“Very funny. You’re a joker, that’s what you are.”

“Thanks. I’m glad you enjoy my jokes.” I watch him take a seat in his big leather chair across the desk.

“Where did you go yesterday?”

“Oh, you know. Around.” I shrug nonchalantly and lean back in my own comfortable, fabric, normal-size chair.

“George and Julian told me you went missing and they couldn’t find you.”

“Sounds to me like you need to improve your HR department.”

“I do have to either fire them or train them. I haven’t decided.” He looks to the side and purses his lips like he always does when he’s thinking. Looking back at me, he says, “I thought of sending more experienced men, but you know them and you’d just talk them into letting you go.”

“You’re getting rusty, Pop.”

“Maybe I am. And maybe I’m getting soft, too, because I’ve been letting you run around and do as you like. You haven’t even been answering my calls. But that’s not how things are going to work from now on.”

“Oh, no. Should I be scared?” I use the wimpiest voice I can come up with.

“Don’t whine. You sound like a little girl,” he says.

“Maybe I want to act like a little girl. Maybe that’s what I’m going to do next, since you’re probably going to fire me now.”

“So you’re admitting that you saw her yesterday?” He rests his elbows on top of the desk and interlaces his fingers, holding them against his clean-shaven chin.

“Of course I saw her. Why else would I sneak out? If I just wanted to go shopping I could’ve taken them with me. Maybe then they’d dress better,” I say. “You know what you should do? You should design a uniform for your thugs. Maybe your new and improved HR department can do that for you.”

I know I’m deliberately derailing the conversation. Maybe I’m being immature, but I don’t know when I’m going to have another chance to aggravate him, and — get this — I think I’m going to miss this.

He sighs. There it is. The father I know wouldn’t just go along with my jokes endlessly, not even when he’s in a good mood like today. The man’s patience has a limit, as he so often reminds me.

“Boy, this girl is going to be your downfall,” he says. “Mark my words.”

I shrug. What can I say? The man’s probably right. Look at what I’ve already given up for Emily. For all that I’ve done, she’s not even mine anymore. And yet I feel completely at peace with how things have gone.

I’m heartbroken and miserable, but I’ve done my best to make things work with her. I actually love her. I didn’t even know I was capable of that before Emily. So I’d call that a win.

“I don’t like having to do what I’m going to do.” He looks straight into my eyes like he used to do when he was about to take my toys away. He’s expecting me to break down and apologize. I may have done that when I was a boy, but I’m a full-grown man now. He doesn’t scare me like he used to.

“Bullshit.”

“You know what?” He glances out the window in an exaggerated show of pensiveness. “You’re right. Maybe I do enjoy this a little bit.”

“You wouldn’t be so jolly if you weren’t about to bring down your wrath and punishment upon me.”

“You know I have to be consistent once I’ve said something. I’m a man of my word. I know that doesn’t mean anything to you. Maybe that’s my own fault for not bringing you up more strictly. You’re my youngest kid and I’m too lenient with you. I’ve failed to instill proper discipline in you.”

“Oh, let’s not get all nostalgic now. You’re going to make me cry.”

“Yes, but I’m going to make you cry tears of pain, not nostalgia.” He smirks cruelly.

He’s always more jovial when he’s about to execute one of his threats. He knows it’s going to hurt like hell for me regardless of his demeanor. Whether he yells at me or jokes around with me, I’m still going to end up in a world of pain. He’s calm and cheerful because he knows he’s about to get his way yet again.

“You know, I’m actually overdue for a good cry. It’s been a while since I last watched a re-run of Bridget Jones’ Diary.”

“I don’t even want to know what that is.” He looks intently into my eyes. “I’ll admit I do enjoy this, but only because it means I’ve planned things the right way. I built in some kind of insurance to make sure you don’t hurt the family. And now that you’ve gone and done that, I can’t just let you get away with it.”

“How? How have I hurt the family? Can’t you just admit that you just don’t like it when I don’t follow your orders like a good lap dog?” I know I’m raising my voice and he’s probably enjoying this, but my anger has been simmering beneath the surface for too long now. He’s treated me this way my whole life, controlling my every move while pretending like he’s only trying to be a good patriarch.

“It’s very possible that your relationship with Emily Webb will be exposed,” he says, shrugging with infuriating calm. “And then people will find out about how I protected you from the potential legal ramifications and media blow-up. How do you think that’s going to hurt the family’s reputation? How do you think that’s going to affect the relationship we’ve built over many years — no, decades — with the media and the police?”

“People don’t care about you as much as you think they do.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, boy. Reputation is everything. If you ever manage to get into a position again where you run a business, you’ll quickly learn that lesson. I see now that I’ve been making you weak by trying to protect you,” he says.

I clench my fist. My muscles are tense as adrenaline surges through my veins. My limbs are shaking in a fight-or-flight response. I stay quiet, afraid of what I’d say if I open my mouth.

“You knew this was going to happen, boy,” he says. “I never make empty threats. You know that. I’ve always taught you since you were a baby, if I let something slide once, soon everybody’s going to start thinking they can get away with anything. It gives me no joy to do this.”

Then wipe that fucking smirk off your mug, asshole.

I grit my teeth, stopping the flurry of curses from escaping my mouth. Seeing me get even more riled up is only going to make him happier.

The wooden drawer scrapes noisily when he pulls it open. A sick feeling builds up in my stomach when I hear the rattle of random items inside as my father reaches inside. He takes out a thick stack of papers and drops it on top of the desk between us.

“Sign now and walk away,” he says as he places his favorite fountain pen on top of the stack and slides everything across the desk to me.

The chair creaks as I lean forward to take the pen in my hand and review the document. We’ve both read it before, back when I was just starting out. I never thought I’d actually sign away my claim over the business I’ve built from scratch.

Foster Hotels is my baby. As much as I don’t want my father to know just how much this hurts, I can’t help the way my breathing becomes labored as my heartbeat picks up and my lungs deflate.

“Come on, boy. Let’s not drag this out any longer than we have to. You already know what the document says. Believe me, you want to sign it,” he says with the kindest old-man smile on his wrinkly face. “Otherwise I can’t guarantee the safety of your little girlfriend.”

Leaning back in his big chair, he continues, “Or don’t. It’s up to you. Don’t say I never give you any options. We can always do this another way. My lawyer will find a way to get this done even if you don’t sign.”

“I’m signing,” I say curtly.

“Not so chatty now, are you?” He chuckles with satisfaction. I swear it makes me want to bash his bleached-white teeth in.

I quietly pick up the pen. It takes everything I’ve got to keep my hand steady as I sign and initial on the appropriate lines. I hope the company fucking burns down into ashes without me. God knows I’ve worked harder than anyone else on the board of directors. Nobody else knows the ins and outs of the business better than I do.

I stand up when I’m done and walk across the room toward the door, ignoring my father’s taunts as I put one foot in front of the other, the sound of my shoes muffled by the elaborate Persian rug.

If I hear him call my “boy” just one more time, I don’t know what I’d do with him. My fists are more than ready to meet his face. I’m going to make it look so bad none of his whores will want to fuck him anymore.

Just as I get into my car and turn on the ignition, I hear knocking on the passenger side window. Great. It’s fucking Caine. I didn’t even know he’s in town. What is this, family reunion day?

“Hey,” he says when I press the button to lower the window. He rests his forearm on the top of my car and leans down to peer inside the car. “I’m sorry about what happened.”

I just shrug in response and blankly stare at him. It’s great that you’re sorry, bro. Really warms my heart. What do you want?

“I tried to talk him out of it, but he wouldn’t budge. You know how he is.” If anybody can persuade my father, it’s Caine. He’s the golden son who can do no wrong in his eyes.

“Thanks, man.” I take a deep breath and try to relax. It’s not Caine’s fault this happened. I’m the one who’s been too reckless. “I appreciate it.”

“No problem.” A pair of sunglasses perches on top of his head, keeping his windblown blond hair out of his face. He may be more similar to my father in terms of personality, but they look nothing like each other. “Look, don’t take it too personally. You know that’s just how he treats everybody.”

“Yep, that’s him. No fucking special treatment even if you’re his spawn.” My jaws clench and I grip the steering wheel harder, turning my knuckles white.

“He’s just doing what he thinks is best for the family,” Caine says, spouting off the propaganda we’ve both been fed with since we were born. I wonder what went wrong with my upbringing that I no longer buy that bullshit. Caine seems perfectly at ease having my father’s hands controlling the strings, manipulating him like a puppet.

“How do you do it?” I blurt out. “How do you stand his bullshit day in and day out?”

“Guess I have more patience than you do.” He shrugs, smiling. “You know, he’s not so bad. Not if you know how to deal with him.”

“Fuck, Caine. I want to just pummel him sometimes, wipe that smug look off his face.” I make a fist with my right hand and pull it back like I’m about to punch something.

“Sure you do. Hell, sometimes I want to kick his saggy ass.” He pauses and looks straight into my eyes. “What are you going to do now?”

“I have a plan.” Clearly, it’s not going as well as I’d hoped because Emily’s not by my side, but I can still stick with my plan on my own.

I flip open my suit jacket to show the fountain pen I just stole from my father’s home office and watch Caine grin. I know it’s petty, but whatever. If my father gets upset about me stealing his favorite pen, he’s going to combust when he finds out what else I’ve done today.