Chapter Six

ALEX’S POV

“I’m just tired of these women thinking they can snag a piece of my fortune. Do they even marry me for love?" I grumbled, heading over to my wine storage. I grabbed a bottle of whiskey, pulled two glasses down, and started pouring. “Three divorces in four years. I mean, come on, that’s insane, right?”

David, sprawled out comfortably in front of me, grinned like he found my misery somewhat amusing. “Your fantasies are what’s crazy, man. These women aren’t lining up to be subdued, you know?”

I handed him a glass, shaking my head. “I’m not forcing them into anything.” I poured generously into my own glass. “I lay it all out, upfront. They know exactly what they’re signing up for. So why do they bail after just a year? It’s like they hit an expiration date.”

David knocked back his drink in one go, barely tasting it. “This is exactly why I’ve stayed single. I’m not getting dragged into that kind of circus.”

David had been my closest friend for as long as I can remember. Even though he was a few years older than me, we grew up together—same neighborhood, same schools, and we even found success in business around the same time. While I had taken the plunge into marriage (multiple times), Dave had always kept his distance from serious relationships. Commitment wasn’t his thing, and I couldn’t blame him. His fear of settling down had deep roots in his parents' messy divorce. His mother had left his father for a wealthy man and had emailed them the divorce agreement after two years, and that left its mark on him. 

He was fully immersed in real estate, always on the move, traveling for projects. He was currently knee-deep in building a luxury resort and knowing him, it was going to be one of the most exclusive places around.

I raised an eyebrow at him. “You’ll regret that eventually, trust me. Look, these women all pretend to be cool with the whole Dom/Sub thing, and I pay them well—very well, even while we’re married. Thank God we've got airtight agreements, written and signed. If it weren’t for those, I would probably be serving time by now.”

David chuckled, clearly enjoying the drama more than he should. “Relax, Alex. I’ve got your back. But here’s an idea—why don’t you give marriage a break? You don’t need that hassle. Just, you know, mingle. I know this guy who runs a sex club, and he’s got connections. You’ll find women who are into that lifestyle, no strings attached. Pay ‘em, enjoy, and move on. No more marrying women who think they can ‘fix’ you in a year and then bail when they can’t, acting like you’re the bad guy.”

I sat back, swirling the whiskey in my glass, staring at the amber liquid. “You think I’m a dickhead or some kind of pervert or...”

David cut me off mid-sentence, laughing. “Dude, you’re not a dickhead, and you’re definitely not a pervert. You’re just... you. And there’s nothing wrong with having preferences, especially when nobody’s getting hurt.” He leaned in, his voice dropping a little. “Alex, I’ve known you for years. You’re a decent guy—honestly. You’ve never been violent or abusive. Your sexual tastes are just different from most people’s, that’s all. You just need to find someone who’s into the same stuff. Trust me, there’s someone out there who’s all about that life.” David paused, then added, “I’ll call Jackson. He’ll help. The guy knows everyone. He’ll sort you out.”

I knocked back my drink, feeling the warmth spread through my chest. “I really hope things get better. But you know me—I’m not about to deal with some bratty girl.”

David raised his hands in mock surrender, grinning. “No brats, I promise. Now, let’s shift gears—business. I hear you’re launching a new clothing line?”

I gave him a knowing look and nodded, feeling a little more at ease.

“You’re still gunning for the Kensingtons, huh?” David’s eyes gleamed with amusement.

I shrugged, leaning back in my chair. “It’s not about revenge anymore.” I paused, weighing my words. “It’s more about showing them I can match anything they do. It’s about proving I’m just as capable.”

David raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Sure sounds like revenge. I mean, you’ve been beating them at their own game, taking every award they’ve held onto for years. Now you’re diving into their most successful venture—fashion? Come on, man, what do you know about fashion?”

I chuckled. “You would be surprised. I don’t need to know everything. I just need the right people to pull it off.”

Before David could respond, my phone buzzed on the table. I glanced at the screen and saw Jayden’s name flashing. My heart dropped. Even before I picked it up, I knew this wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation. I steeled myself and answered.

“Hey, son,” I said, bracing for impact.

Jayden’s voice came through, laced with fury. “Haven’t you done enough? You sick bastard.”

I took a deep breath, trying to keep calm. “Jayden, listen—”

“No,” he snapped, cutting me off. “I don’t want to hear any more of the filth that comes out of your mouth. I know what you’re up to, and I’m telling you right now—you’re going to fail.”

“What have I done to you, son?” I asked, my voice tinged with frustration and a bit of hurt. I couldn’t wrap my head around the hatred my son had for me. He knew I was his father, yet he never wanted anything to do with me. It’s not like we ever sat down and talked about it either—he wouldn’t even give me that. I had no clue what Lisette or her father had poisoned his mind with, but whatever it was, it had stuck like glue. And Jayden never once confronted me directly about it. He just kept his distance, like I was some sort of contagious disease.

“Don’t call me that!” Jayden snapped, his voice cold and sharp like a slap in the face. “I am not your son.”

That classic line. I had heard it so many times by now, I could practically lip-sync to it. Every time we had one of these... “conversations,” I would ask the same question, and he would give me the same cold answer. It was like a broken record, except this one played hurt instead of music.

I blamed myself, of course. I hadn’t been around when he was younger, too caught up in trying to build something—a business, a future, a name. I worked my ass off, hoping that one day he would be proud to call me his father. I didn’t reach out to him until after my first big break in business, thinking I would finally be someone worth knowing. But it was too late. Jayden didn’t care about the money, the success, none of it. And when I tried to mend the fractured relationship, he slammed the door in my face. So, I stopped trying, hoping that someday he would come around and want me in his life.

“Okay, can we at least talk this over a drink?” I offered, knowing full well what was coming next.

“You must be very sick to think I would want to have a drink with you.” His voice dripped with disdain. “Stop trying so hard to be like us. No matter what you do, you’re always going to be a piece of shit!”

Click.

The line went dead before I could get another word in. I stood there for a moment, holding the phone in my hand, letting the silence sink in. Tears stung at the corners of my eyes, but I blinked them away. I took a deep breath, steeling myself before turning back to my friend David, who had been watching me the whole time with a raised eyebrow. 

“What’s up?” David asked, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern.

“That was my 'lovely son,'” I said with a dry chuckle, sinking back into the couch like the weight of the conversation had deflated me. “I guess he didn’t exactly give my new business venture a standing ovation.”

David gave me a sympathetic look but didn’t sugarcoat it. “I hope you’re not going to let him guilt-trip you into backing out of the fashion world. That was your mother’s legacy. She always dreamed of starting her own clothing line. She was a great designer, man. You just happened to make it big with hotels and restaurants first.”

I nodded slowly, staring into the distance as if the answers to all my problems were written somewhere in the air. “I don’t know, Dave. I just want my son to see me as a good father.”

David shook his head, sitting up straighter. “Look, Alex, you’re never going to win that battle by bending over backward for him. He has already made up his mind. Do what you want to do. If you don’t follow through on this, you’ll regret it—and for what? Just to keep trying to win over a guy who’s determined to hate you? That’s no way to live.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. David was right, but that didn’t make it any easier. No matter how many businesses I built or successes I had, all I really wanted was for my son to look at me with something other than contempt. But maybe that was just another dream I would never achieve.