Page 132 of Blue Gold

“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?”