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Panic lances through me when I leave the rooftop bar at seven-thirty to find my phone inundated with missed calls and text messages, most of them from Madison.
Gritting my teeth, I jump into my car that’s waiting by the door without so much as a “hello” to my driver, trying to figure out what I missed. I spent the day trying to convince a board member of my latest investment idea, and that included buying him dinner and drinks. The last thing I need after being subjected to his awful jokes is any drama.
Madison doesn’t pick up when I try to call her, and I curse.
“Is everything okay, sir?” John asks, flashing me a look through the rearview.
“I don’t know. I’d like to be home as soon as possible, so if you could find a way through all this traffic?—”
“Of course, sir.” We’re turning down a side street before I’ve even finished the sentence. After ten years working for me, John knows Manhattan like the back of his hand.
I go back to my phone, my eyes blurring as I swipe through the notifications. Brandon tried to call a few times, too. I call him back, breathing a sigh of relief when he picks up after only a couple of rings.
“What’s going on?” I snap.
“Man, where the hell have you been?” Brandon’s voice is sharp and, for once, serious. That only worries me more.
“Mr. Reid warranted my undivided attention. Tell me what happened.” A million unwelcome thoughts churn through my mind. Leo, sick. Leo, hurt. Leo, missing. And Madison… why wasn’t she picking up, either? Had something happened to her?
Shit.
My fingers dig into my thigh, crumpling my tailored trousers. Another reason I choose to keep Leo a secret is for his safety. I’m not a fool; I know there are people out there who long for my wealth, and if they knew I had something to lose, they could use him to get to me.
And her. She’s part of my life now, and if we were seen at the zoo, people could have drawn any conclusion. They could believe I care for her.
I’m worried they’d be right.
Brandon sighs as though relaxing, and I unflex my fist slowly. “It’s Leo. He has a stomach bug. Madison called me. Chloe went around to check on him?—”
“Leo is sick…” My fear is quickly replaced by a heavy, nauseating dose of guilt. Leo is sick, and I wasn’t there. Anything could have happened… “Why isn’t Madison picking up her phone?”
“I don’t know. I guess she’s a little busy taking care of your son.” I don’t miss the barbs in his voice, and I tense against them.
“Do you have something to say, Brandon?” My voice is low, a warning.
A moment of tense silence passes through the crackling line before he breaks it by releasing a violent puff of breath. “No. No, I just know she was worried, and you weren’t there. That’s all.”
“I’ll discuss that with her. Thank you.” I hang up, clenching my phone so hard my skin tautens painfully across my knuckles. This is why I didn’t want to hire her. Aside from our altercation, I don’t need her coming between Brandon and I — which she surely would if he ever found out what we’ve done behind closed doors.
I try Madison a final time, but she still doesn’t pick up. If I find out it’s out of spite, I’m not sure I’ll be able to control my anger.
Still, I text her to tell her I’ll be home soon with trembling thumbs before taking a deep breath through my tight lungs and averting my gaze to the city outside.
A bad father. Those are the only words floating around my head, haunting me, as we drive swiftly through the city. You’re just like him, Roman. Cold. Detached. Not there when he needs you.
I wanted to be different. I don’t want Leo to grow up the way that I did: lonely, feeling like my father’s distance was some twisted sign of a personal flaw on my part. Like something was wrong with me, and I had to be extraordinary to earn his love.
I am extraordinary, and still, I never saw any warmth in him. He only seemed to become jealous as I built my empire — or threatened, at the very least. His scorn turned even sourer, his hatred towards me clearer, until eventually, I cut off all ties with him, finally allowed to once my parents’ divorce was settled.
But really, did it make a difference if I’m stumbling down the same path he did? If I’m failing my son in all the same ways?
* * *
The penthouse is tooquiet when I get home. I pace down the hallway to find only the floor lamp warming the living room in a buttery glow. Two lumps protrude from the couch, one bigger, one smaller, and it takes my eyes a moment to adjust to the sight.
Leo and Madison, curled under a duvet together while the TV quietly hums with a cartoon. Their eyes are closed, and Leo is barely visible, nestled into Madison’s torso.
