Intense by C.M. Steele

Prologue

Roman

I enter the charity dinner alone as always. My tuxedo’s already testing my patience with this stupid bow tie and collar that make it feel stuffy in here. I wear a suit every day, so maybe it's not the clothes that has me chomping at the bit. I promised to give a speech at dinner as one of the prominent benefactors, but as I walk in, I see a man I haven't seen in a decade. A man I loved and trusted. A man who abandoned me.

"Mr. Danvers, is it?" he remarks with a hint of frustration like he has the right to be angry with me that I changed my name.

"Mr. Edwards." I'm blunt, rude as per my usual, but it's years of bitterness that has me grinding my teeth.

He sighs, running his hand through his thick brown hair that’s gotten much more grey than I remember. "You know—” There’s a long pause as he rubs the back of his neck. “I thought that when you finally got out from under your mother’s thumb, you’d seek me out, but all these years and nothing.”

"Why the fuck would I look for you? So you could abandon me again?” My voice raises, but I quickly drop it down before people hear us.

“Abandon you? I never ever abandoned you, Roman.” He looks completely confused, angry, hurt, all the damn feelings I should be feeling, not him.

“Bullshit. I heard the conversation between you and Mom that night. The night you learned I wasn’t your biological son.”

“You only heard what your broken heart wanted to hear, but I assure you I wouldn’t have let you go for nothing. If she hadn’t snuck out with you while I was gone, she wouldn’t have had a chance to take you.” I stare at him like he’s crazy, full of shit. Then I see something in his eyes. Tears.

He pulls out his handkerchief and wipes gently. “Please, let’s have a minute before this starts. Please tell me the devil didn’t come with you.” He looks around the room as if my mother’s going to pop up behind him.

“No. My mother isn’t here.”

“Come this way, for just a minute. Please.” I nod, and he leads me off back into the corridor and then into a small alcove. We sit down on a bench out of the way of the arriving guests. “Right after my stint in the hospital, I learned that not only had I been poisoned, but that you didn’t have the right blood to donate to me. They check family first, and you were my only known blood relation. It came back, and they said you were not my child. At first, I was devastated, but a part of me always had a feeling. After all, you look exactly like your real father. I confronted Anna about it, and she told me that I was just a patsy, her way out of her shitty life, but that she hated me. I told her to get the fuck out and never come back, but I told her that you were staying and that you were my son.”

“Are you serious?” I’m trying to process everything he’s saying. As much as I don’t want to take it at face value, I have a sinking feeling in my gut.

“Very. I planned to take you on that trip and consult a lawyer, but the next day, you fell off your bike and broke your arm. I knew she tampered with your brakes because she wanted to get back at me, but I had no proof since your bike rode into traffic and had been run over after you fell.”

“I remember her insisting I go out for a ride. I didn’t feel like it because I was psyched about the trip.”

“Yes, I know. I didn’t want to go without you, but you insisted I not bail on my friends and that it was only for the weekend. I had no idea it would be the biggest mistake I’d make.”

“You wanted me?”

“I fought the courts for you. She claimed that I’d abandoned you to go fishing and that since I wasn’t your biological dad, I had no rights to you. I even said that I signed your birth certificate, which means that legally I had a right, but they pulled the birth certificate, and it no longer had my name. It had been removed the day I got out of the hospital. Then, when I went to court, she had photos of bruises on her, and diary notes claiming I abused her. I was lucky not to end up in jail. There was a restraining order put out on me to stay away from you.”

“If you knew all this, why didn’t you contact me sooner?”

“The restraining order ran out two days ago. I decided now was my best chance of seeing you again. You may not believe me, but here’s the proof.” He hands me a document with a court stamp. It’s a restraining order against him. If he’d really abandoned me like my mother had claimed, then why would he need one of these? It’s too much to puzzle out.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say. Excuse me, I have to go.”

“I’m still proud of all you have done, son.” I nod, walking away, feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders. It’s nearly time for me to give my generic speech, and I do with little to no zeal as I would normally have. Something in me has lost the angry way I’ve approached my world that has driven me to succeed.

I head home to my penthouse, feeling empty. I’m going to see my mother first thing in the morning whether she likes it or not.

I toss and turn all night thinking about the years since we left the house in Wisconsin. I remember feeling so angry and lost. My mother kept me in line and one day introduced me to a new man that I’d never met before, although I felt like we had a resemblance. Two years later, I learned he was my birth father. We never had a bond, but in his will, he left so much to me it made no sense. I’ve chalked it up to none of my life being normal.

When the sun’s up, I rush over to my mother’s dressed in a suit, shaving having been all but forgotten. I didn’t have time for that. My head needed the answers that were burning in my heart.

I speed through the streets of New York City and make my way to her condo. It's the best of the best, too much of my hard-earned money spent on it, but until yesterday, I felt like she'd kept me when I'd been abandoned, so that was the least I could do. I take the elevator up and bring out my key.

She's on her sixth husband, always looking for another meal ticket. She's the reason I stay away from women altogether. When I was younger, I might have completely understood what she did to Mr. Edwards, but as I grew and started liking girls, I found them always with another guy. I’d never made it to second base because they’d already moved on, cheated on me, and my mother was always there to stick by my side, reminding me that women are only out to ruin a man like me. I stayed away from them. When I thought about how she tricked my father into raising someone else’s kid, I realized even the woman I trusted was corrupt. No woman could be trusted. Now, if what Mr. Edwards—the man I once called my father—is telling me is the truth, I don’t know if I’ll ever trust a woman again.

As soon as I enter her house, I hear the telltale signs that she has snagged another sucker. I step back outside because I don’t want to hear my mother fucking, something I could have lived without all these years—forced to sit in the room next to hers while she faked orgasms to win her men. Another knock against women: fake orgasms. I shudder and want to pop my own eardrums. I wait another two minutes because I know the charade is over. Then I saunter in and see him. Pathetic. He’s my former step-uncle from stepdad number four. “Wow, vying for stepdaddy number six?”

“Nah. Keep your mouth shut.”

“Roman won’t say a thing. See you soon.” She kisses his cheek and pats his ass.

“Like a good Mama’s boy.”

“Get the fuck out of here before I bust your head. And she faked it, by the way. I got here a few minutes ago, but I gave you your privacy.”

“I didn’t fake it.”

“Who gives a fuck, boy? I got off. I don’t give two fucks if she does.” He winks and walks out.

“Mother, so charming. We need to talk.”

“What’s the matter, son? You seem a little grumpier than usual,” she says, pinching my cheek before walking over to her bar in the corner of her living room. The house is white on white with glass tables and shelves everywhere.

“I ran into Theodore Edwards last night.”

She gasps and stops in her tracks. “What?”

“Yes. Funny thing. He showed me this.” I pull out the copy of the restraining order I requested from the police department that was sent over to me first thing this morning. I had no idea that it existed, which is strange because it should have come up somehow, some way.

“He probably faked it. You can get anything off the internet these days.”

“Really? You mean like this copy I got from the police department here? You know, it’s funny that I’ve just seen this for the first time, and yet here is my signature. Well, a knockoff of my signature. Care to explain?”

“He’s crazy, and I was worried about you. He poisoned himself and tried to blame me. He tried to steal you away when we left.”

“Why would he want to do that, Mother?”

“Okay. I may have lied. He was going to keep you away from me. I couldn’t let him do that.”

“From this point on, don’t ever speak to me again. I want nothing to do with you. Find your own way. Fuck some other poor sap into giving you everything, but you’ve fucked up my life for the final time. Goodbye.”

I pull my copy of her key out of my pocket, rub it with my handkerchief so my fingerprints aren’t on it and then dump it in the bowl by the door and walk out, slamming the door behind me.

I choke on the truth as I take the elevator down.

As soon as I’m in my car, I speed out of the city. Then I take out my phone and dial.

“Dad,” I whisper.

“It’s good to hear from you, son.” Tears slip down my cheeks as I think about all the time wasted. “How about we do lunch?”

“Name the place.” I make a quick turn-around and head back into the city to right a wrong.