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“You’re out of your mind if you think I would allow this to happen!”
I had imagined how good all of this would feel, but honestly…this moment might be right up there with winning the Cup. The shock on his face was just…delicious.
I pulled out my phone and tapped a few buttons. "You haven’t exactly been discreet with all your shit, Father. A long time ago, I started collecting videos…just for a rainy day.”
“What are you talking about?” he growled, but his face had paled to that of a corpse.
He knew exactly what I was talking about.
I pressed a button on my phone and sent him one of the videos I had. He pressed play, and after watching it for a few seconds…he collapsed in his chair, the very image of defeat.
“Videos of you bribing officials, soliciting prostitutes, doing drugs...you’ve been very, very naughty. And I have video of it all."
I’d never seen fear in his eyes, but I saw it now.
And it might have been wrong, but the little boy I’d been, the one he’d terrified and abused...
He felt much better.
"What do you want?" my father finally asked, his voice trembling.
"I want you to move your office to New York and pretend that I don't exist anymore," I said coldly. "And if you happen to get a wild hair about doing something to get rid of me, just know that I have things set up so that those videos will be released to various outlets and organizations if anything happens to me or Monroe. I also have a clause set up that all my shares will be sold to Kingston Venture if anything happens.” I dropped my smirk and stared at him, letting the darkness out so he’d know just how serious I was. “Meaning, Father, that if you do anything to me…I'll destroy everything."
My father sat there, speechless, and I basked in my victory, a heady thrill running through my veins. I’d been caught up in all my guilt over Tyler, all the bullshit…and Monroe had finally set me free.
"So, what’s it going to be?" I asked, smiling broadly.
My father glared at me, but I could see the defeat in his eyes. He picked up his office phone and pressed an extension. “Arrange for everything to be transferred to the New York Office. Immediately. I’ll be flying out tomorrow.”
He didn’t answer the questions being thrown at him. He just hung up, all the fire out of his gaze.
"I’m your father," he finally said, as if that were of any consequence.
I stood up slowly, towering over him. "And you forgot that before I was even born. You should have known I was going to make you pay for what you did with Monroe.”
His eyes widened as realization sunk in. He’d had no idea through our entire conversation that this was related to what he’d done with her.
Fucking idiot.
“I better not see you ever again,” I threw over my shoulder as I ambled out of the office, resuming my earlier whistling.
He would think of me for the rest of his life.
But I vowed I’d never think of him again.
* * *
Monroe
I was sitting on a bench in the park with Bill, the same bench where he’d watched over me that night long ago, enjoying the sandwiches I’d brought for us. The sun was high in the sky, casting a golden glow over everything in sight. The heat was palpable, but it wasn't oppressive. It was one of those rare days in Dallas where the air wasn't thick with 100% humidity. Instead, there was a gentle breeze that carried the scent of blooming flowers and fresh cut grass–the kind of day that begged to be enjoyed outside.
“Hmm, have I told you the one about Yorkshire?” he asked, his voice thick with his characteristic accent. He took a big bite of his sandwich, his eyes far off, already lost in the story.
“I don’t think you have,” I answered fondly. It was nice to spend some time with him. He didn’t feel as comfortable in the ritzy part of town as he had by my old apartment, and he still had refused to take any help from Lincoln or me.
The park was our middle ground at the moment, but I was determined that would change.
"Ah, okay, let me tell you about the time I was a wee lad and got lost in the moors of Yorkshire. I was only six years old, and I had wandered away from my family during a picnic. I wandered and wandered until I found myself all alone, surrounded by fog and heather as far as the eye could see. I was getting quite frightened, I can tell you…and then I heard a sound. It was like a distant whistle, and I knew I had to follow it. So off I went, trudging through the heather, tripping and stumbling over rocks and brambles. Finally, after what felt like hours, I stumbled upon a—Little duck, are you happy?”
