The Love of My Bully
In order to have complete control over his own life, he needed to know what was in the box. It could be nothing, but he couldn’t allow his parents to know he’d even been snooping.
Pissed off that he’d hit a dead end, he glanced around the closet. With the size of the thing, it was almost another room. It certainly was big enough for a bed and someone to live here. Before he took his time getting to know Pru, he was exactly like his parents. Always wanting the best and looking down on those who had so little.
Pru had opened his eyes a great deal, and he didn’t want to lose her or what he’d gained in the process. His parents and their ideals were the monsters, not him. He’d changed and there was no way he was going to live the rest of his life bowing down to their needs when they weren’t his own. He would fight them at every single turn. He wasn’t afraid of them. What he needed to be was smart so his parents wouldn’t know what he was up to.
At the bottom of the box, he saw a single key. He couldn’t believe his mother would leave a key in plain sight. It wasn’t like her.
Sliding the key into the lock, he flicked it open.
There was no way it could have worked. Opening the lid, he stared inside. At first, he wasn’t sure what he saw. There was a single folder. Plain cream and it had his name written on it. He pulled it out of the safe and glanced over it. Turning over the front cover, he saw files and pictures pinned to the back. He removed the metal clasp, looking up and flicking through the paperwork.
He didn’t understand it.
His name was on the form and so was his father’s. Sitting down on the floor, he read through the official medical letter, nibbling on his lip as he read the letter.
Regret to inform you you’re unable to father children. The words were right there in black and white.
“I should have known you would try to look for something.”
Drake turned his head to see his mother sitting on the bed. He hadn’t heard her come back inside. She hadn’t tried to kill him and she didn’t look angry.
“What is this?” he asked.
“You know exactly what it is. As you’ve been trying to tell us for some time, you’re not stupid.”
Right at that moment, he wanted to be stupid. “This doesn’t make any sense.”
“Oh, come on, Drake. It’s not hard to see. Your father can’t have children. He’s fucking useless. Can bang as many bitches as he sees fit but will never be a father.”
“But, how is that possible? I thought he’d … fathered children.”
His mother burst out laughing. “He hasn’t fathered anything. Can’t do anything with a bunch of blanks and that is exactly what he has to offer. Blanks. He’s useless. There’s no way he can continue his bloodline.”
“If what this document says is true then why are you still with him? You’re thirsty for money, power, all of it. Why do you still continue to stay married to him?” He didn’t get it. There was no way his mother would marry a man she couldn’t stand or stay with him. It just wasn’t possible. Something wasn’t adding up.
“Your father and I got married long before we realized he was hopeless in that department. Believe me, there’s no way I would have stuck around if there wasn’t an option.”
“How can there be an option? Without another heir, his fortune gets passed on.”
“To what? To a bastard child?”
“None of that matters to anyone,” he said.
“Oh, please, you fickle child. It still matters. No one wants a bastard.”
“But if I’m not my dad’s, it’s exactly who I am.”
“Please, you’re your father’s child, just not completely,” his mother said.
“What the fuck does that mean?” He didn’t want to play riddles, but it would appear his mother did. None of this made any sense. If he wasn’t his father’s son, then the fortune had to go to the next person in line. He didn’t recall any living uncles or aunts. There was no way his mother would allow for that kind of power.
Think, brain, fucking think.
His mother just sat there on the edge of the bed, looking at her nails as if this was all just a boring show. He hated her on sight.
“Are you done trying to scrabble your brains and pretending you care?”
“Who am I?” he asked.
“Your grandfather was a frisky devil. Did you know that?”
“What?” His grandfather had died a couple of years ago, but whenever he took the time to visit, he was always … around, smiling at him. Wanting to know about his life and who he was with.
“So you don’t get confused, I will try to dumb it down. When your grandfather discovered your father couldn’t have kids, there was no way he would allow his empire to pass on to no one. So he intended to do anything to make sure his pathetic waste of a son didn’t screw this up.”