RICHARD'S POVMr Dennis gave me a ride to my father's villa when I finished at the jewelry store. He gave my shoulder a reassuring pat before I hopped out of his car. "Give your father my best, Richard," he said, his face a mask of concern. "I will, sir. Thank you again for the ride," I replied, forcing a smile. I wasn't sure what I'd find inside. The texts from my father had been frantic, filled with words like "chest pain" and "can't breathe."When I went into the house, I felt a strange feeling. The house was not quiet like usual. There was a strange feeling in the air. Jonathan and William, my stepbrothers, were sitting in the living room like vultures waiting to eat something dead."Well, well, look who decided to grace us with his presence," Jonathan drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He didn't even bother looking up from his phone. William, never one to be outdone, let out a loud snorting sound like a pig struggling for truffles. "Heard you were playing doctor these
RICHARD'S POV The old man's breathing finally calmed, his chest rising and falling in a normal rhythm. I almost smirked. Showman, that's me. “Just stay the night, son. Please?” Dad’s voice was thick with emotion, his hand gripping my shoulder like he was afraid I’d disappear. Honestly, if I had the energy, I might have. “Dad, come on,” I sighed, rubbing a hand down my face. He flinched, that hopeful glint in his eyes dimming a bit. Damn, he was good at the whole wounded puppy act. “I just… I feel like we could talk, you know? Really talk.” Right. Talk. Because that’s what we did in this family – air out our feelings and hug it out. Maybe it was the exhaustion talking. I should have known better than to be surprised. It was always about him, wasn't it? But against my better judgment, I agreed. “Fine,” I muttered, already regretting the word. “But I'm ordering pizza.” The pizza was, thankfully, from a decent place. Dad even sprang for extra pepperoni, my favor
RICHARD’S POV He sighed again, this time it sounded more like a groan. “Look, Richard, all I’m saying is… I want to make things right. I want to be a father to you, if you’ll let me.” "Let me get this straight," I said, leaning back and folding my arms. "After all these years, after ignoring me, pretending I didn't exist, you want to suddenly be a father?" He looked down at his hands, his face flushed. He looked up at me, his eyes pleading. “Give me another chance, Richard. Please.” I held his gaze for a long moment, letting the silence stretch between us. Part of me, the angry, bitter part, wanted to tell him to shove it. To tell him he’d had his chance and blown it. But there was another part, a small, flickering part that wanted to believe him. That craved a father's love, even if it was years overdue. "Fine," I finally said, my voice gruff. "But this doesn't change anything. We'll take it slow, one day at a time." He beamed, his face lighting up like a kid at Christmas. “Th
RICHARD'S POV Man, the things we do for respect. I swear, inviting the Chairman over wouldn't be such a big deal if I didn’t have to prove a point. First the penthouse suite, now a brand new car. This better be worth it. The Chairman deserved a grand invitation, a statement. And what better statement than rolling up in a brand new set of wheels? This dealership was supposed to be one of the best in town, all sleek lines and that new car smell. I was ready to throw down some serious cash. Except, the second I walked through the door, I saw her. Brenda? Brenda freaking Miller? Or whatever-her-name-was, from high school. What are the odds? She was perched behind a massive desk, all sleek hair and power suit, looking like she owned the place. Well, I guess she kind of did. The universe had a messed up sense of humor. “Brenda? Wow, hey! Didn’t expect to see you here.” I tried to sound casual, but honestly, seeing her brought back a flood of memories. Mostly bad ones involving her
RICHARD'S POVBrenda’s laughter echoed through the dealership, bouncing off the gleaming hoods of cars I could apparently never afford. " ‘Richard the Beggar’, buying a car here? Honey, you must be lost. The used car lot is two blocks down.""Funny, Brenda," I said, my voice flat. "Last time I checked, I wasn't asking for a handout. I'm here to buy, not beg.""Oh, I'm sure you are, sweetie," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "But let's be realistic, those clunkers with the 'For Sale' signs taped to the windows? Those are more your speed.""Brenda, you seem to have forgotten that people grow up. And some of us even become successful," I said, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. "Maybe stop judging a book by its dusty old cover?""Successful?" she scoffed. "You? Please. What are you now, Richard, Assistant Regional Manager of Paperclip Sales? Look, I've got real customers to deal with. So, how about you take your faded jeans and your empty wallet and...""Empty wallet?
RICHARD’SPOV "Are you sure that's real?" Brenda sputtered, her perfectly manicured fingernail finding its way between her teeth. "That transfer, I mean. It's not... manipulated or anything?" I laughed. "Honey, you're starting to sound paranoid. You think I hacked into Bill Gates' account or something?" "Well, you never know these days," she mumbled, her eyes darting between Hawthorne's phone and the door, as if expecting the FBI to storm in and arrest me for fraud. "For all we know, you could be running some elaborate scam." "Brenda, sweetheart, if I were running a scam, don't you think I'd aim a little higher than a used car dealership?" I said, my voice laced with amusement. “I could have easily swiped my card at Hawthorne Motors, you know. Saved us both a lot of time. But where's the fun in that? I wanted you to see this. To see the opportunity you just flushed down the toilet with your little judgmental attitude." Brenda went silent, her face a mask of disbelief and dawni
RICHARD'S POV Hamilton (owner of the dealership Brenda worked as manager) finally coughed upan apology for the embarrassment and disrespect I had faced in his dealership, but the damage was done. My afternoon was shot. Didn't matter much. Thankfully, Hawthorne, the manager of the rival dealership, was a breath of fresh air, and he was already practically vibrating with excitement. I followed him to his dealership just across the street. Hawthorne's place was a display of amazingly shiny cars and a glass palace compared to the dealership Brenda was managing. He slapped the keys to the car into my palm, a grin stretching ear to ear. "She's all yours, champ. But seriously, dude, that thing's a beast. Don't go wrapping it around a telephone pole on your way out, alright?Honestly, who wants to drive a brand newbeauty through rush hour traffic?"Nah, tell you what," I said, leaning back inthe plush leather chair, "Why don’t you save me the hassle.”“Sure,” he said with a smile. “Eve
RICHARD'S POV Before anyone could recover their breath, much less their voice, I stepped forward, ignoring the gasps and glares directed at my back. My gaze never left Amelia's, my "I'm here'" I announced, my voice echoing in the sudden stillness, "because there's something you need to know. Something everyone needs to know." Taking another step towards her, each footfall a thunderclap in the silence, I declared, "Amelia...will you marry me?” Silence. Like a thick fog, it settled over the grand living room. I almost chuckled – did they think silence was intimidating? Then, a sudden, sharp scream cut through the quiet. It was high-pitched and shaky, like the sound of old dishes being dropped. Amelia's grandma, who was wearing tons of jewelry, like a king's treasure chest, burst out laughing. Her laughter was loud and long. "Marry? You, you...boy thinks he's worthy of marrying *my* Amelia?" Each word dripped with venom, her face twisted in a weird smile that wasn't really