Alexander's P.O.V:

3 months and 2 weeks ago . . .

"Happy birthday, son."

I couldn't believe it. It was as if some part of me had always known he would come back. He was a man of his fucking word. My nightmares had been a subconscious warning – as if I'd known he would contact me on my upcoming 18th birthday. And now, here we were.

"I know you must surprised to hear from me," The deep, hauntingly familiar voice continued over the phone. "But I have been waiting to make this call for years."

No 'hello', no 'how've you been', not even as much as single shred of fucking emotion. He just waltzed back into my life, thinking I had forgotten everything he had done, and that I'd just welcome him back like the long lost father that he was.

My hands begun shaking, actually my entire body did. It took absolutely everything for me to not just smash my phone against the wall and proceed to trash my entire room as well.

He wasn't welcome in my life. He never would be. Not after what he fucking did to us. I had to take this shithead down. That's why I took a deep breath and cooled down my nerves. I had to be in the right mind if I was going to do this right.

"You're an adult now, Junior. A man."

"Something you will never be." I heard myself reply. My voice didn't sound like my own, it was incredibly raw and so venomous, I felt like I was poisoning him over the phone. Which I most certainly wanted to if I could.

A low, calm chuckle sounded in the other end, a chuckle so similar to my own. Only this carried no trace of jolly happiness or amusement. "It's good to hear your voice, son. It's deep, like a real man's. Authoritative."

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't just hang up the phone right now and dial the police." I said through gritted teeth, containing my burning anger. It was roaring through my body, making me see red.

The deep chuckle continued. "Alright, here's a reason; If you hang up the phone, I'll have your mother's bank account emptied before you even manage to take another breath. Is that incitement enough to continue to chat with your old man?"

My breath stopped in my throat. He was bluffing. He had to be. He wasn't that powerful...

"You have an IQ over 170, you do the math, son; How long will it take a man with my kind of money and power to convince any banker to reset your mother's account?" He asked, clearly knowing what was going through my head.

By 'convince' he meant bribe. I knew there was a reason I fucking loathed this creature I got to call my biological father. "You have five minutes to tell me why you called me before I hang up."

"I only need five seconds," Came the reply. "I want you to join my business in New York and come work for me."

Now I had to drop my jaw – and that was something I never did. This was too goddamn surreal, it just couldn't even be true. But it was.

And just like that, my head exploded; Every possible outcome and every possible motive scrolled through my head like the end credits of a movie.

I saw it all so clearly.

He had been goddamn waiting to make this call for years, which meant he had been waiting for me to become a grown-up. He had been planning this for fucking ages, and I had known when the day arrived, he'd try to threaten me and blackmail me, maybe even give me a sweet little taste of what would happen if I didn't join him in his precious business.

I'd heard about it. It was all up in the news. Apparently it was becoming one of the most successful architecture firms over there. He landed big contracts and names – rumors were that he had even been signed to build some fucking government facility for the president. If he was doing so fucking la-di-da well, why the hell was he trying to recruit me? "Why?"

"Because I want your brain." Came the prompt reply. "Your intelligence is reaching new undiscovered heights and I want it in my business. Stone Inc is your legacy, Junior. I want to see you handle it."

I ran a hand through my hair, gripping on to my roots. I nearly ripped it all out, but I restrained myself.

Me and my fucking brain. It was always out to ruin my life, one way or another. What I wouldn't fucking give to get rid of it. Just rip it out and be done with it.

This was so crazy. How the fuck did the night go from kissing my gorgeous girlfriend, to getting blackmailed by my father? It was fucked up. All I knew was that I wasn't going to play his game. Not for one fucking moment.

"Suck my dick, you little pretentious fucking asshole."

"Now that would be considered as incest." My father dryly replied. "Also, I assume your dear friend Sophie would prefer to do that for you. Again."

My blood instantly ran cold and I froze up.

He knew. How the fuck did he know? I started whipping around in my room, looking for hidden cameras, when it struck me; "You had me fucking monitored."

"I told you back then when I left, I'd be coming back for you one day," His deep voice said in the phone. "I had to see what I was coming back for. You're quite the little rebel, I must say."

This was sick. I wanted to throw up. My own father had spied on me while me and Sophie had... while she had been naked. Christ. What else had they fucking done? Video taped it or just recorded the audio? It was sick. Sick. Sick. Sick.

"You bitch," I hissed. "You fucking bitch."

"Now-now, watch your language, Junior. You kiss your mother with that mouth?" My father calmly mused. "Oh, but that's right. She doesn't know you have that sort of mouth. She doesn't know anything, does she? It would be such a pity if she found out. No more late nights with Sophie."

Just. Breathe.

"You won't tell her," I firmly said, gripping on to my chair as I took a deep breath. "Because we both know it won't benefit you at all. As long as you have something to blackmail me with, you have me in your corner."

"Who said anything about blackmail?"

"You didn't have to. You said it yourself; I have an IQ higher than 170. You do the math."

I heard the deep chuckle again and then a long sigh. "You're a brilliant kid, Theodore. I'm so proud to call you my son."

"My name is not Theodore and I'm not your fucking son," I hissed lowly into the phone, afraid that my ma would hear my growling argument. "That requires you actually being there for the upbringing."

"Of course, and I assume your mother... excels at being there."

"At least she's fucking trying, which is more than you ever did."

"But I did, remember? Oh wait, what a silly question. You remember everything, don't you, Theo?"

I gritted my teeth. I was going to break them if I didn't unclench soon, but I just couldn't. I was three seconds away from pounding something. "Stop calling me that. And I remember you beating her up. I remember you beating me up. I'd really like to repay the favor."

Another chuckle. "Do you also remember how I tried to reason with your dear mother?"

"Is that what you call rape? And why do you keep calling her that?" I growled. "Have you already forgotten her name or does it bring back too many bad memories saying it?"

"I was sparing her name for your benefit, Junior. Audrey was a sexy woman, but unfortunately now she's just a dull old woman I used to f—"

"Shut up!" I roared, "I swear to God, I'll take you down, you old piece of shit!"

"Alexander?" Ma called from downstairs. Crap, I had been too loud now anyway.

My father let out another small chuckle. "I can't wait to see what you'll do. Anyway, son. I'm very busy and I know you probably have to go soon, too. You're facing your exams, and a curious mother, I presume, so I'll give you some time to think about my offer. I will be in touch with you soon enough."

"You will be dead," I growled. "Leave me the fuck alone!"

I heard a calm shuffle of papers in his end. "Goodbye, Theodore."

"My name is Alexander!" I yelled, but the line was already dead. I shut my phone and threw it on my bed, trying to control my anger – but failed.

Roaring, I grabbed my world globe and throttled it into the floor, making it shatter into a thousand pieces.

"Alexander!" My mother's startled voice called from the stairs again. "What's happening up there, is everything okay?"

Everything was not okay, but she couldn't know. Nobody could. Not even Sophie. She would try and convince me to go to the authorities which wouldn't help at all. My father had connections everywhere. I therefore gathered my composure with a deep breath before calmly replying, "Everything is fine, sorry ma."

And everything would be. Because now when my head wasn't exploding, it was using every overdeveloped braincell to formulate a plan. A plan that was going to be the hardest thing I'd ever have to do, but it was going to save everyone I loved from the claws of my father.

Two weeks later . . .

It was early Saturday morning and the bait was planted. My mother and the girls were out of the house, which meant I had it all to myself to do what I had to do.

I downed the almost empty bottle of whiskey with a grimace and then took the last few drops and poured them into a little spray bottle. I begun spraying it around on my clothes, my hair, my skin, even my feet. At the same time, I was knocking over a few vases and figurines, messing up the pillows on the couch and spreading chips and empty bottles of alcohol all over the floor, most of which I had bought just to empty out in the sink.

I then begun taking off my clothes, all but my boxers, but not before going into my duffle bag to take out the girly lingerie I had bought just for this occasion. I pulled out the lacy Victoria Secret thong. I looked at it for a long time, knowing that this little flimsy piece of material would be the end to my relationship with Sophie. Incredible how little it actually took when it all came down to it; A relationship so strong could be broken by something so fragile.

I dropped the panties onto the floor, a place where I knew she would see them as the first thing when she walked in – which she would do at any moment now. I knew her; I hadn't replied to her phone calls and texts all night which meant she'd be coming to check on me this morning.

And that's when my false scene would meet her; The trashed living room, the booze, the thong, me. She'd smell the alcohol in the air and she would just know. And it would break her heart. She would think that I cheated on her and she would then break it off with me, thus cutting herself out of my life. She would be out of my tangled web which my father controlled the strings to. She would be safe.

If my father really had surveilled me, he'd know I used to fuck around. Sophie was my first stabile girl. The girl I fell in love with. But ooone little mess-up from my behalf... the end. She'd break up with me and he'd think I'd lost her. Once and for all.

I slowly sat down on the couch and started messing up my hair, making it look all tousled, sexed up. I even begun rubbing splotches of lipstick on my skin, a lipstick I had snatched from my mother's purse. It was all about making it look as authentic as possible, and sadly, I had experience in that field.

I then just sat down on the couch and waited; Waited to break my girl's heart, waited to shatter her soul. If there ever was a God I believed in, now would've been the time I had prayed.

Give me strength. I'm sorry there's no other way. Watch over her while I'm gone.

But there was no Holy Spirit to ask for forgiveness for in my world. Just me, myself and my fucked up brain.

Finally, I heard footsteps outside the front door, hesitant footsteps. I wondered if she could already tell something was wrong. She was crazy like that – she could sense things. Or maybe she just knew me too well.

As the doorknob now turned, I closed my eyes and remembered all our times together; The first time I kissed her in the sixth grade, the time we got drunk and I ate her out on my bed for the first time, the time we had all driven to Sydney and cruised in Miles's car, our sexy time in the hotel, the time we took a private drive and she deep-throated the fuck out of me, the time I entered her for the first time, took her virginity, the look in her eyes. The time she first ōrgasmed around me, clenching me with her snug pussy. The time I told her I loved her and she told me she loved me.

That moment was the official pause screen in my head, the one I always saw when I closed my eyes. It was a moment I had been waiting for all my life, it was the words I had been waiting for to come out of her mouth.

I love you too, Alexander.

I took those words and memories with me and so many more, let them fill me up until it felt like my head was going to burst. So many great moments together. Would we survive this once all was said and done?

It all came up to this moment – this final moment where it all would end as I now heard her footsteps coming through the entrée to the living room.

I palmed my head and prepared myself for what was about to happen. Her silence told me she had already figured it out, which meant that the show was already starting.

God, if you're there, just watch over her. I beg you.

When I heard her stop up in the living room and felt her eyes land on me, I said the words that was going to shatter us. Her.

"Sophie, I fucked up."

24 hours later . . .

I had no idea how I was still breathing and walking around.

My body felt empty, but funnily enough my chest felt like it was made out of lead. Or maybe tungsten. It just felt so goddamn heavy and burning, bleeding with acid.

It was a miracle I hadn't broken down yet and a miracle that I'd managed to keep it together. Maybe it was the reminder that all of this was fake, and once I had done what needed to be done, I could fix it all up again. My Soph would take me back again. She would. Some day. I had to convince myself of that, it was the only way I was going to get through the next part.

The next part of cutting all my ties.

This time around, I had actually taken a glass of Grey Goose. I knew when this shit hit the fan, I would need something to keep my nerves chilled. Lying to Sophie was one thing. It was a lie that she needed for now, but I had to do the exact opposite with my mom; I had to reveal everything.

While Sophie had always know the truth about me and had accepted it, my mom didn't. She knew nothing, I had kept it like that for a reason. Learning the truth about me and who I was would kill her internally. Scar her like I was scarred. And she was scarred enough. She didn't need more horror, so I had shielded it from her with lies.

Funny how lying was always easier than telling the truth. In my case, it was also the far kinder option.

But now she needed to know everything. The truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. It was time to confess. Come clean. Destroy my mother. Amen.

Fuck, I couldn't do this. It was my mom, for Christ sake. I couldn't break her. I fucking couldn't, she was so proud of who she thought I was, her wonderboy with good grades and a strong relationship with beardy in the sky. Fuck, she would break down, I couldn't—

—I was having a panic attack. I felt my kneecaps begin to shake, I couldn't breathe, my stomach flipped and my head began to spin. My tongue felt too big for my mouth(it always kinda had, but you catch my drift), I kept hearing a rushing sound in my ears...

My mom is going to break down, she's going to go to a mental hospital, Sarah and Kaylee will go into foster care, you're going to break down from that and end up doing hardcore drugs again, and this time Sophie won't be there to save you—

When my stomach actually flipped, I ran for the toilet. This was not a part of the plan.

I barely made it to the bathroom and shut the door before I retched into the bowl, heaving out all my fears. I clamped around the cold porcelain with my hands, squeezing my eyes shut. I retched again.

Easy breaths, focus. This is all just temporary. It's going to pass. You're saving them from the far worse alternative; Your father. You're keeping them out of his fucking claws, so get your fucking shit together and do this; Save your family.

The foul taste of vomit lingered on my tongue and I still felt sick, but I stood up anyway, with legs that felt like spaghetti sticks. My ears suddenly caught a sound outside the bathroom, on the other side of the door. I recognized my mother's heels against the floorboards of our entrée.

You can do this. For your family, I thought, squeezing my eyes shut. I then took a deep breath and opened the door.

For your family.

A few minutes later . . .

"You took her virginity, Alex! Her virginity!"

"I'm sorry, mom. I promise it won't happen again. Ever, actually."

"Alexander Theodore Stone, do not be smart with me!"

"So I should be dumb with you?"

"Alexander!"

"What do you want me to say, mom?" I snapped at her and whipped up from the couch. "What's done is done, I can't undo it now!"

"No, but you could at least show some repentance!" She yelled back. "For God's sake, think of what you have done!"

"No mom, I won't, because I don't regret it," I snarled. "Sophie is the greatest goddamn girl I've ever slept with and she—"

"You've slept with more girls?" My mother's face paled as she gasped, falling for my trap. She placed a hand in front of her mouth. "How many?"

"So many you would be appalled," I sneered, making her lose even more color. "I've fucked both left and right and up and down and sideways, horizontal and vertically. I've been with so many girls—women, you would fall down dead if you knew the number and you know what? I don't regret it," I said as my mother now sat down, placing a hand over her heart, looking absolutely broken. "Because every stupid choice I made led me to realize that Sophie is the only girl I love and ever will love. So I won't repent my goddamn actions."

Ma looked up at me, her eyes suddenly thundering. "Oh yes you will, Alexander. You will go to father Niels and you will confess your sins and—"

"Oh right, one more thing; I don't believe in God." I flatly cut in. This was the worst I could possibly say to her. "I'm an atheist and have been for years. I only went to church to please you. But I'm legally a grownup now, so I don't have to lie to you to stay out of getting grounded anymore."

She looked like a part of her just died. Telling her I wasn't a believer was probably the worst blow of them all. She looked completely ghost pale and was frozen from head to toe. Her eyes were wide and unblinking and staring up at me like she didn't recognize her own son – like I was a complete stranger to her, and a scary one at that.

And that right there was killing me.

"Oh, Alexander..." She heartbrokenly whispered. "What happened to my sweet, caring, loving son?"

"He was beaten to death by his father," I forced out. I was shaking too, but only on the inside. I couldn't show her my own emotions, the ones that made me want to fall down on my knees and cry in front of her until she forgave me. Until she looked proudly at me again. Until she looked at me like I was her son. I couldn't. "You think I don't remember? You think I've forgotten about how he abused you? How he abused me? I haven't, and I never will, so you can quit trying to make a saint out of me!" I roared, holding back the water in my eyes. "I'm damaged goods and it's his fault – and yours for falling for a piece of shit like him, you stupid fucking bitch."

"Alexander!"

"No!" I yelled, clenching my fists, not from anger, but from trying not to break down and give it all away. I was almost done, just a little longer... "I'm through with all the lying! I'm outta here," I yelled and picked up my pre-packed bag. "Have a fucking great life, don't forget to be a mother to your daughters. They've sorta been forgetting they have one lately."

I turned around on my heel and stormed out, leaving the neighborhood.

Part two was done. The plan was officially in motion and now it was on to step three which would probably be the most difficult one; Letting my demons in.

But right now... I welcomed them. I had never felt more like a demon than I did in this very moment.

Present day . . .

I came walking up the lane I had been walking up and down this whole past month – just passing by, never actually allowing myself to go to inside the apartment building on it. But now, I finally was.

The endgame was upon us and everything was set in motion. Within a few hours, my father would be a done man. Bankrupt. Sued on both left and right – all thanks to my plan that had worked out perfectly. Better than perfect, actually.

I entered the apartment building, buzzing on random people's doors, telling them I forgot my keys, before someone finally let me in. I then ascended the stairs up to 32C which, ironically enough, also was her bra-size. I smiled to myself.

But then I reached her door.

This was it. After three months on the street, this would be the first time I saw her again. Would she look the same? Would she still smell the same? Would her smile have changed? Would she remember me?

What a dumb question. Of course she would. It took more than three months to forget someone. I hoped. I wouldn't know anything about that.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, annoyed at my own brain, I knocked her door twice instead of thrice – something I had always done. Maybe that would give her a small heads-up.

I heard footsteps on the other side, and then without hesitation, the door was swung open.

And there she goddamn was. The pure sight of her nearly floored me, yet at the same time blew me to the heavens.

I saw the deepest hazel eyes in the world, the ones that I had missed so unbearably much; the blonde curls that normally framed her face, but was pulled back into a messy ponytail today, and I saw her lips which were beautiful, plump and pink. And smiling.

However, that smile instantly froze the second our eyes met. I saw the horror on her face spread to her heart and soul, and then caused her pink cheeks and lips to pale.

"Hey, beautiful," I tried in a voice that was much more hoarse than it normally was. She had that effect on me. I probably shouldn't have said the next part, but I just couldn't help myself; "Missed me?"

Yeah, I definitely shouldn't have said that.

• • •

How many saw that one coming, hm?