The Grey Billionaire

DANIEL

A few days later, Daniel opened his eyes in the Fontainebleau, where he’d chosen to sleep the previous night, and checked his phone. The date on his lock screen made his throat constrict.

Over the years, he’d made sure to pile on loads of work or bury his woes in someone new on this specific day. He’d been crafty about finding new ways to keep every emotion he’d buried over a decade ago from resurfacing, and most times, he’d succeeded.

Daniel turned onto his side and blinked slowly as the room’s automatic drapes rolled away, welcoming sunlight into the room. From the comfort of the bed, he stared at the tall buildings outside, expressionless. Thoughts of his mother plagued him, and he was powerless to do anything but lie there and endure the acidic invasion.

Minute after minute, the unwanted memories came. Her smile, her laughter, her depression, the stressed look on her face right before she threw up, and the look of relief after she had. Her voice was so weak, her skin so pale, her hair long gone. It seemed difficult for her to muster up a full sentence, let alone hold a long conversation.

Daniel remembered her first chemotherapy triumph—and all the medical failures afterward. Most of all, he remembered the last words she uttered before he stopped going to see her, before he stopped caring about anything.

I’m tired.

That’s what she said when the doctor suggested another round of aggressive therapy. She decided to give up, so he never returned to the hospital. When she decided to return home to waste away, he never visited her in her bedroom either.

God, he managed to put up walls. So many walls. And they’d stayed up all these years, protecting him.

Daniel rolled out of bed and forced himself to stand and walk to the bathroom. The five-star hotel provided everything he needed for either a short or long-term stay, so he brushed his teeth, washed his face, and then took a shower. He dressed in the burgundy suit his tailor delivered to his room early in the morning and managed not to think of her.

After Daniel finished getting ready for the day, he sent a text to Johnson, his driver and most trusted employee. Less than five minutes later, there was a knock at the door.

When he opened it, Johnson greeted him with one word, “Sir.”

Johnson was about ten years older than Daniel, but despite his seniority, the level of respect he showed his employer was absolute. He was as loyal as they come.

Daniel gestured for Johnson to enter the suite, and his driver stepped in with an unreadable expression.

Softly, Daniel said, “Please have the car ready in two hours. You may also go and eat without me. Just charge it to the room—I’ll take care of it.”

Daniel heard his phone ringing from the bedroom but ignored it. He knew from the ringtone that it was his father.

When it was quiet again, Johnson said, “He’s called me three times already. He’s just worried about you.”

“He doesn’t need to worry about me,” Daniel muttered, glaring darkly at his driver. “I’ve always been capable of taking care of myself.”

Johnson nodded and left the room.

Deciding against eating breakfast, Daniel pulled out his laptop and began working. After two hours of sifting through a sea of emails, he finally finished combing through the lot that needed urgent replies and went downstairs. Johnson whisked him off to work in Miami traffic.

When he arrived at the office, Gloria stood up to greet him, coffee in hand and a bright smile on her face. “Good morning,” she spoke in a high-pitched voice.

Daniel stopped to look at her flat stomach. “Is it still there?”

Gloria looked down and giggled. “Yeah, but don’t worry, I already made the appointment.”

His face was hard as stone. “You said that last week.”

Gloria took a sip of her coffee before reaching for her phone. She used the pad of her thumb to navigate the touch screen device, then turned the screen to show it to him. “The date is set. It’s not a regular checkup—I can’t just go whenever I want. This was the first available date they had.”

Daniel blinked at her phone, then raised intense eyes to stare at her. After a moment of silence, he pulled a check from his pocket and dropped it on her desk.

Gloria stared at the number and then grinned. “You already gave me the twenty I asked for last week—what’s this?”

He leaned his head to one side. “Find a sub while you’re out sick.”

She nodded and shoved the check into her purse.

Daniel turned toward his office door, but her next words halted his steps. “By the way, your father’s waiting for you.”

Of course, he is.

Daniel stared at the door handle as if it was made of venom from an Inland Taipan.

It wasn’t the first time since his early retirement that Daniel’s father had showed up unannounced, but he knew this visit had nothing to do with the company. Daniel could handle business conversations all day, but he dreaded what his dad was here for. He took a deep breath, opened the door, and stepped inside.

Even if Daniel planned to keep his eyes on the floor, or the view, or anywhere but his father’s face during the visit, it would be impossible. The man had a demanding presence; his gaze was unavoidable.

Still, Daniel tried, ignoring the lavish floral arrangement on his desk and walking to his chair. He unzipped his laptop from its sleeve and immediately began working.

“Good morning to you too.” Carlos had a deep voice, not too raspy, that grabbed everyone’s attention.

Daniel finally looked up at him.

Carlos wore a gray suit that matched his eyes, and he still didn’t have any gray hair or wrinkles—at least that Daniel could see. His muscles were defined, making him look about as strong as a war tank.

“I’m busy, Dad. If you need something, please let Gloria know.”

Carlos gave a half-smile but didn’t move an inch. “I know you always say ‘no,’ but I’d feel like a terrible father and husband if I didn’t keep trying.”

Daniel swallowed and immediately regretted it. His saliva tasted bitter and acidic, and it burned his throat, almost choking him.

“It’s her birthday, Dani,” his father said in a softer tone. “Will you accompany me this year?”

Daniel steeled his face as he stared at the man who raised him. “You said it yourself, Dad: I always say ‘no.’ This year won’t be any different.”

Carlos walked around Daniel’s desk and placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. Though it was meant to be comforting, his touch instead felt like forty pounds of uncomfortable pressure.

“Dani.” Impossibly, Carlos managed to speak even softer. “She doesn’t deserve this kind of punishment; she’s still your mother.”

Daniel felt anger climb from his toes all the way up to his brain. He stood up and stepped out of his father’s reach.

“I can’t stand to see you live like this. You won’t buy a house or even rent one, you won’t date anyone seriously, you won’t start a family. What is your plan exactly? Work and die in this office, at this desk, alone?”

Daniel balled up both his fists by his sides to prevent himself from speaking. They never talked about his personal life or his mother, only about work. His fingernails dug into his palms, but he clenched them even tighter as he suddenly struggled to breathe.

Carlos continued, “She wouldn’t have wanted you to live like this or be like this.”

Daniel lost the battle to remain silent, words exploding from him like a bomb. “What about what I wanted? Did she think about that?”

Carlos blinked at him.

“When she decided to give up on me and on you, did she think about anyone but herself?” Daniel felt tears in his eyes, but he ignored them. He stared at his father and waited for an answer.

“She…she was in pain.” Carlos stumbled over the words.

Daniel scoffed. “Am I not in pain? Aren’t you? Why was her pain more justified? Was it because it was physical? Does that make my pain less important? Less real? Why does she get to give up on me, but I can’t give up on her? How the fuck is that fair?”

Tears rolled down Carlos’s cheeks as he listened to his son vent for the first time.

Daniel continued, “You want me to get married and have kids, right? Why? So I can end up hurt by the woman I love when she decides to give up on me too? Is that what you want for your son? Is that what you want for your grandchildren? A lifetime of missing someone they’ll never see again?”

Carlos wiped his tears with open palms but didn’t say anything. What could he say? I’m sorry?

Daniel had never confessed the reason why he didn’t want a serious relationship or a family. Now he couldn’t believe he’d said it out loud.

After a long time, Carlos reached for the floral arrangement meant for his wife’s grave. He held it tightly in one hand and took a few steps toward his son.

Daniel stared at him.

Carlos raised his free hand to pull Daniel into a hug. “I love you, son,” is all he managed to say.

Over his shoulder, Daniel replied, “Hmm.”