Chapter One
2391 Words
WALLACE
"Your grace is in his study, Señor Wallace. He's waiting for your arrival.", Peter told me the moment I entered the Monzato mansion. I just nodded, not willing to say a thing that would satisfy him. We are close, but not today, and I don't think we will be close again. I puffed a loud sigh before walking upstairs.
My father called me to come to the mansion to discuss something. What is it? I don't know. He just simply left a message to my secretary earlier this morning to inform me that he wants to talk to me. I was in the middle of a meeting with my investors when my secretary informed me. I have a lot to do today but I chose to cancel it and come here. If I let this thing slide, it will just trigger my overthinking skill and it will bother me until I get my s**t together and face him. Damn. f**k.
How many years have I not been home to this mansion? I can't remember. Maybe ten years ago? Nearly twelve years? I cannot say. Something inside me felt the nostalgic feeling, this is where I grew up. This is where I became the asshole that I am today. This is the laboratory that shaped me. This has never been my paradise. This is a f*****g inferno. Yes, a f*****g inferno right in the motherfucking earth.
How many years have I not been home to this mansion? Still, I do not know.
The interior design of the mansion is still the same from the day when I was just a young boy to the day I moved out. I can still remember all the very small details of this mansion. No renovations happened here. Still the old, classy Mediterranean mansion my family owned. In this very place my lovely mother died. I can still remember that day. A f*****g nightmare.
The expensive paintings from France and Germany and Switzerland are still hanging up in the same spot since I left the house. The gargoyles are still standing tall on the outside and on the patio. Old but clean. The maids are still the same, some of them are new to my eyes. Crego, the mansion's main cook, nodded and smiled at me. He is still working for my father. I slightly nodded and continued walking.
I don't remember the last time I came here. The moment I moved out, I seldom visited. Because my mom is already dead and I'm annoyed whenever I see my father's ugly face. We are not close, we contradict each other's opinions. We cannot stay in the same room without threatening each other's lives. The only people I can stand are my brother and our friends. It's just a daddy issue. Everybody has a daddy issue.
Here goes nothing, I knocked on my father's study room before entering. The quite, big ass room is filled with antique paintings which I'm sure costs millions and several memories of my late mother. Her pictures are everywhere. She really treasures my mother. Sweet.
If I didn't know what really happened between I will think that he is a devoted, faithful and loving husband, but he isn't because he's a piece of s**t.
My mother loves dog figurines and the study is full of them. All of it is my mom's possession when she's still alive and kicking. But now, those figurines are now only a memory of her. The memories of her that we will treasure forever. How I miss her...
I scanned the quiet room and I saw my father, sitting in one of the love seats not far away from his study table. I cleared my throat to get his attention. I just saw his face and I was already annoyed by his power. Damn.
"Father." I said. He immediately looked at me. Just like before, he doesn't have any emotions displayed on his face. He's just there, sitting while having a glass of rum on a hot summer afternoon. What a weird hobby he had over there. Breaking the norms, I see.
He looks older than before because of all the white hair. He's wearing his vintage-style two—piece suit and his beard is well trimmed. His posture is screaming how powerful he is—Virgilio Monzato. He looks more formidable than ever. Living alone in this Mediterranean mansion didn't help him to lessen the stress. He's aging. The god of death will ask him soon. I hope so. f**k I really hope so.
"How are you, my son?" He asked. I sat in one of the chairs, helping myself to feel comfortable. My son my f*****g ass.
"I'm pretty busy," I said casually. He handed me a glass of rum. I drink the rum, letting my throat feel the familiar burn. Relaxing.
I used to get scared of his deep baritone voice when I was a young boy. But now, that I'm a grown ass man, I can throw a punch at his annoying face. Stupid ass.
"Did I interrupt your current business, boy?" I rolled my eyes. He's asking a very obvious question.
I put another stupid glass of rum in the back of my throat before answering my father. I put the glass on the wooden coffee table before talking.
"Of course. I'm a very busy man," I said without any emotion. Trying to hide the annoyance in my voice. "I am not a multi-billionaire for nothing, father." I continued. I leaned on my back and continued to stare at him. He's starting to annoy the f**k out of me. Every time I look at him, I always remember the dead body of my mother. And that's his fault. His motherfucking fault.
I heard him laugh. As far as I remember, I didn't say any jokes. He's a crazy ass old man.
"I have a proposal." My brow raised. Proposal? Wow. So this is not a father and son conversation, it's a business meeting. Wow demons. Satan's demons are at work again.
"Not interested, pal." I said. He's gonna propose about what? A nonsense business with his colleagues? Nope. Not to me.
I stood up, preparing myself to leave the room.
I still prefer Villavicencio's investment. At least I can trust Psyche in terms of business. In terms of business, I don't trust easily even if there's multi-million deal on the line. I learned not to trust a lot of people the moment I saw the death of my mother. Life experiences. You know, issues.
Being with him in the same room makes me want to vomit. He's presence is f*****g suffocating. I cannot f*****g stand it. Goodness, what does he want from me? He really doesn't want to call or see me. What now? Why the f**k now?
"Yeah, let's see where your pride can take you when I bomb your businesses." He said and I froze. He showed me his phone.
"Who is that friend of yours? Psyche Villavicencio?" He used his sarcastic, annoying voice. My anger is now rising because he brought Psyche onto the subject.
"Try putting a finger on him and his family, and we are going to have a war." I said, still not facing him. If he had bombs, I could make one. I can bomb this mansion like a f*****g vigilante.
I'm just there standing like a f*****g i***t not making any movement. Son of a b***h!
I faked a laugh, nothing more, just my defense mechanism, because my father's words caught me off guard. Goddamnit. "What do you want from me?" Seriously?
I faced him in annoyance. He didn't answer my question, he was drinking his rum. He motioned his hand, telling me to sit down. His face is dark like he's going to shoot me in the head any minute now if I don't sit down. Psychotic and scary.
I sighed before sitting down. I know my father and his abilities. I know how evil this motherfucker is. I can be evil too, though.
"You're thirty-three years old, yes?" He asked. I nodded my head in confusion.
"You have a girlfriend? A fiance? Wife? No?" I looked at one of the small dog figurines on the table, analyzing what my father really wanted. He's talking some real s**t right now. Real s**t. f*****g s**t.
What the f*****g f**k is going on? When did he give a f**k about my personal information? As far as I remember, we are not close and we will never be. I would rather shoot myself than be close with him, a f*****g demon.
"What do you want from me? You've been asking stupid questions about my life, damn." I confronted him because he was eating my time. I should've been working at this hour. f**k this life.
Instead of answering my damn f*****g question, he poured ice and rum into my glass and handed it to me. I took the motherfucking glass from him. The frustration and anger are now visible on my face. This old man is really testing my patience. I should relax. My bullet doesn't deserve to be inside his empty head and I don't want to end up in jail.
"Do you wanna know what I want, kid?" He said after drinking his rum. I leaned on my back, ready to listen to his bullshit. As I leaned, I felt my gun on my back, resting and waiting to get fired.
"You've been wasting my time. Of course, I need to f*****g know. What do you want, father?"
"A grandchild." What? Did I hear it right? f**k?
A what? I stared at him. I tried observing his face. I wanted to see the expression that he was just joking. But, he displayed a stoic expression, telling me that he was serious. Seriously? What?
"From who?" Maybe he wants a grandchild from our cousins? Because me and my brother are not into having kids type of s**t or getting married. We want to have a peaceful life. And I think he knew it by now.
"Fool! Why would I ask a grandchild from your cousins? Are you out of your mind, fool?" he said in an authoritative voice. He looked like he was getting annoyed.
I'm annoyed too, he's not the only one.
I frowned, "Can you just pull the trigger in one snap? Geez, father."
"I want a grandchild from you, i***t. Who else will give me a lot of grandkids?" he said, a little annoyed.
I faked a laugh because he was funny. Me? Grandchild? f*****g hell, I don't even have a girlfriend, and having kids is not on my list of things. I am fine being single and a f*****g different woman every damn night. I don't need a kid, I don't want a kid. What the hell is this kid?
"I want a grandchild from you or I will put all your business down. Mark my words, Wallace Grant." He said and he dismissed me by just motioning his hand.
That's it? That's motherfucking it? He will drop a request like he's just asking for some water and dismiss me like a f*****g virgin? Hell!
He's asking for a motherfucking kid for Pete's sake! Oh f**k me!
"I cannot do it. I cannot give you a grandchild, father." I said honestly. For the first time in my life, I was sincere towards him. Honesty is the best policy and I don't want to gamble on my beautiful single life.
For a kid? No f*****g way. I hate f*****g kids.
"Why? You have a d**k, you're a healthy male. You can do it."
"No. You don't understand. I am not planning to have any kids, father." I replied.
I heard him sigh. I know he is disappointed, but I cannot give him what he wants because my freedom is on the line. And also, he's always disappointed with me because that is not brand new information. He can be disappointed to death for all I f*****g care.
"Your mother's two hundred fifty billion euros and her private island in the South Pacific. Impregnate someone and that's yours."
I snapped my head up.
"Father..." That's the only word I can utter. He can't be serious right now. My mind is now in chaos. I'm confused and he's winning.
"If you think I am not serious, just think about when I drop a joke? I'm always serious, Wallace Grant." Yeah, he's got no sense of humor at all. That's got no hoes.
I blinked. What if he's bluffing? He can manipulate me with his words. And he knew our desire to get my mother's money and private property because she told us that it was ours. It is not meant to be kept by my father.
That's ours. Me and Leon.
He walked towards a wooden drawer and he put a brown envelope on the wooden study table. "Come, look at it. It is named after you and Leon. I didn't give it to you before because I knew I could use it for something that would benefit me." He said, his facial expression was still the same.
"And you think this is the right time to use that f*****g last document from mother? You're a cunning man, father." I don't care if he thinks I'm disrespecting him right now, he's such a manipulative bastard.
His posture remained authoritative, not minding what I'd said to him. He smirked smugly. "I knew you would say that. But, we are Monzato, being wise is in our blood." Blood my f*****g ass. He is not wise, he's a f*****g manipulative and cunning man.
A f*****g manipulative, psycho, b***h-ass-cunning man.
He cleared his throat to continue speaking, "No standards. Impregnate a woman, have the child. The moment you tell me that she is pregnant, that document from your mother is yours."
"You need to settle down, Wallace. You need an heir. I knew how important that document was for you and your brother. I am not giving a time limit, take your time. Be a father, the money and the island will be yours and your brother." He put back the brownish envelope inside the wooden cabinet and he locked it with a code.
Yeah, the moment I get that f*****g document, my freedom is gone.
- Writer
