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His head snapped forward. His beady eyes looked me up and down, assessing me. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Look, there is no reason for you to lie. I’ve seen them a few times when I’ve stepped out of the house without Gin. Call them off.”
Roger laughed. “Gin? You that comfortable with that sc—”
“Remove his name from your filthy mouth, or I’ll burn all the money I was going to give you today.”
“Who are you?” Roger shook his head. “No son of mine would ever speak that way to me.”
“Yeah, that Ash is dead. You’re not my father, and I’m not your son.” A weight lifted off my back, one I’d been carrying my entire life. Breathing felt easier. It might have been my imagination, but the world looked brighter.
“What?” Roger floundered as he missed his mouth and spilled water down his chin and over his shirt. “Shit, this is Armani.”
The waitress came over at that moment. “Oh, I’ll get you more napkins.”
“It’s not needed. It’s only water.”
She glanced at Roger for only a second as he dabbed at his shirt. “Your food will be out shortly.” Her gaze was still full of pity. “Are you sure I can’t get you anything?”
You can fuck off.Shit, I’ve been hanging around Gin too much.
Thinking about that gorgeous asshole made me feel lighter and happier. I smiled at the waitress, shaking my head. I wanted to make this as quick as possible; eating would only prolong the torture.
“You laughing at me?” Roger growled.
I sat up straighter, the smile falling from my face. Daydreaming about Gin right now was stupid. I was faced with a man who wouldn’t bat an eye at a child being abused. I’d chosen a public place, but Roger wasn’t above hurting me in other ways. I knew this and still let my guard down.
“No, s—” I snapped my mouth shut. The only man I called sir now was Gin. He’d be so angry with me if I said it to anyone else.
“No, what?” Roger asked.
It took every ounce of willpower to meet his gaze. “The reason I asked you to lunch was so that we can end all of this.”
“We can what now?”
Roger leaned back, a sly grin on his face. He was confident that I was under his thumb and sure I’d been for a long time. However, things were changing. I'd changed.
“No more, Roger.”
“What the fuck did you just call me?”
Bile burned the back of my throat, my stomach twisting and turning with nerves. “Roger. It’s your name. You were never a father to me.”
“You ungrateful piece of shit.” Roger shoved his chair back, his big hands slamming against the table. The tableware jingled. “You dare try to fuck me over, boy?”
I wanted to crawl into a small hole and close my eyes. “I can give you what I have now.”
“Sir, is there something wrong?” our waitress asked. She nervously looked between us, keeping some distance from Roger.
“No,” Roger said.
She waited by me, and I nodded in agreement. The fewer people I involved, the better.
“You forgetting where you come from and who raised you?”
How could I forget? Nothing in this world would ever erase the pain and trauma I went through. Being with Giancarlo helped soothe the aches, though, and to be with him, I had to stop this. I needed to cut off the man who continued to harm me. It wasn’t fair to Gin or me.
I doubted I’d ever forgive the man who raised me, not that he asked for it. At times I wished he’d died. Maybe I would have been better off. Other times I hoped he’d wake up and realize how much he was hurting me. Now all I wanted was for him to forget I existed and continue to live his miserable life.
