Chapter 5

at chapter 5

“I see the world getting darker every time I see the light of faith slowly fading away, letting the corruption grow.”

– Khiem.

JORDAN POV

“All you do is disappoint me. That’s all you fuckin’ know. Look at your brothers. As soon as they graduated, they’d been drowning in job offers. Dan has a nice promising girlfriend, Kory just took the biggest project of his life. Then you…” As always, my dad didn’t give any fuck about the fact that I almost died.

No. He was too angry to even focus on that matter alone. And that’s why he has been chowing my head ever since I arrived home from the hospital.

“Can’t you just be my son and make me proud once? You can’t even be like your brothers.” The ol’ man’s voice rattled through the vast living room of our home, setting a heavy weight in my chest.

Except Jenkins were not my brothers. They were the nice cousins I was always compared to. And no matter what I did, I could never live up to their effortlessly perfect life.

“But Papa, Jord is a victim. He was shot, and…”

“Naked? Are you telling me that whoever shot him stripped his clothes off and shot him, then threw him in the middle of the street before driving off? Is that what you are telling me, Yelena?” He redirected his scorching temper to my sister, since all of us were in his vicinity, making us his targets.

Win a game over my dad and the whole household of Rothschild would feel the burn of his temper.

“I mean… that makes sense. It could have happened that way.” Yelena- who always knew how to stand up to him- shrugged casually, crossing her legs elegantly before casting a warm smile at me.

Except that’s not what happened.

I was the one who took off my clothes, then had the most intense and best sex in all my life before getting shot in the foot, with my dick still half hard.

Not that I would tell them that. My dad would die of a heart attack. But not before strangling me with a pillow in my sleep and making it look like an accident.

“Have you seen the polls? No matter what I do, the pictures keep resurfacing. Now the whole world knows that I can't keep my house in order. Everything is ruined. Everything.” He dramatically threw his hands into the air and continued pacing up and down.

If I were, to be honest, my dad was a dick.

His indifference was what made me want to shut my dick in the car door.

You don’t get that indifferent with your kids. All he cared about was battling with the politicians of America and a seat in the White House. The ‘royal’ seat as he put it. And with elections just a breath away, he was no different from someone who had escaped from a mental asylum.

“We can hold a press conference and…”

“And say what? That I have a loser of a son who only knows how to disappoint me?” My dad spat, his words feeling like a very loud slap in my face.

Only if he knew just how hurtful his words were.

“Mr. Rothschild, please listen.” Diana Bogle- my father's campaign manager and the only sane person enough to get to my father to actually listen- called out from where she sat, her eyes pinned on my father who was losing half of the remains of his balls.

“We can hold a press conference, or a charity gala just to steer the tabloids in a different direction.” She suggested, and I sang praise when 5 seconds went by without my father’s scream.

Finally. Someone spoke sense into him. And it can only be Diana.

“If we’re going to do that then we will have to do it sooner. I am not having all the hard work go down the drain because of this…” The words seemed to be stuck in his throat, and I waited.

“Papa that’s enough” Yelena cut him off.

“You have scolded him, and he saw his mistake even though there was no mistake, to begin with. But really, enough.” She put up her hand in the air for my father to see.

As though a spell had been cast on him, he only glared at me before shifting his gaze to Diana.

“When do we do it?”

~~~

I repeat, My father is a dick.

And I am my father’s son.

Those were the two conclusions I came up with as the week folded by. With the tabloids raging and my father still breathing down my neck, making sure that I remembered just how disappointed he was with me, I came to terms with the decision of ignoring him and everything that had Thomas in it.

I was a disappointment, better live as is.

Even now, seated on my balcony with a drink in my hand, my bad foot cradled on the ottoman under a very bright sun of a summer day, I made it my business to ignore his voice that was parading down the hallways as he screamed about this and that.

If this was the future president of the United States, so help us God.

“Care if I join?” Dan who was suddenly beside me asked, heaving a loud sigh as he dropped into one of the recliners,

“You were going to either way.” I shrugged, taking a sip of my beer before setting it on the small table on the right side of my chair.

He scoffed.

“How is it? Does it hurt?” He nodded to my foot, a big dot of redness coating the bandages.

“No. It’s actually tingling.” Note the sarcasm. He just laughed.

Daniel Jenkins was so weird. And I liked him for that.

He was not predictable, always moving in the shadows. He was a true definition of a pariah, and whatever he said always took a seat in the front of my mind because it was accurate and exactly the way it is.

“Pops is pissed.” He addressed, his gaze staring outside blankly.

“When isn’t he pissed? We all know of his temper that rages all the days of his life.” I responded, wrenching a hearty laugh from him.

That wasn’t funny.

But again, he was Dan. The man had the oddest and driest sense of humor and always managed to laugh at all the inopportune times.

“Jordan, your father would like to see you in his office.” The voice called from the door, I turned around to find Diana standing by the sill, staring out to where I was outside the bedroom.

Somebody needed to teach these people to stop infesting my room without knocking.

“Anything important?” I wasn’t trying to be a dick, or at least anything resembling my father.

“He insisted.” And with that, I knew there was no way out.

Heavily, I sighed, before struggling myself up, then reached from the crutch that was leaning against the glass doors.

“Good luck,” Dan piped in, earning himself a sneer from me.

Limping and hopping on one foot, I made my way out of the bedroom and joined Diana.

“Don’t.” A warning fled my lips when she reached out to support me, and she quickly withdrew her hands from me, not saying a word. Silently, we walked further and further down the spotlessly clean hallways of my home, making our way to the office. At long last, we arrived in front of brown wooden double doors, and the man standing guard was kind enough to push them open for us.

My father was sprawled on his big leather office chair, his head leaning back while he stared at us from the corner of his eye. I could feel strong resentment from his gaze, burning and scorching my skin.

“That looks awful. Do you need to go to the hospital to get it checked?” He cares? Hell must be freezing!

“Nah. I am good.” I cut him off bluntly, wrenching a scoff from him. Just like that, the good mood was quickly flushed away.

“So…” Diana commenced after I lowered down to the seat opposite him. She didn’t bother sitting. She probably had ADHD. The woman hardly sat down.

“We received an invitation from the Cattanio-Aldermen household.” She beamed like she had announced the best news in the world ever.

“And?” My dad asked impatiently,

“They wish to help us with the Charity gala, at their household in Beverly Hills.” the words pulled a very bright smile on my father’s face, and in an instant, he shot out of his chair before rounding the desk, then pulled Diana in a big hug.

“How did you get them to agree? Working with them is like, hell. With them on my side, I already won the elections.” My father drawled, slapping Diana on her back softly before pulling off from her, then held her at an arms’ length.

“Except, I didn’t reach out. They did. And they invited us for dinner tomorrow at their household, to discuss the plans for the gala and see what conclusion we can all come up with. You working with them is enough to take the tabloids off Jordan’s back and focus on something else. Their empire will benefit from the gala, and so will your campaign. Being in their good books guarantees us a seat in the White House. ” She finished with a smile, and Tom literally lost his mind.

“Brilliant. That is so fuckin" brilliant.” You could have sworn he was already appointed as the president.

“And what does that have to do with me?” My hands rose slightly from my lap as I stared at them.

“This is your mess.” He pointed a finger at me, indignation covering the buoyance and the excitement.

I really pissed him off this time didn't I?

“And you’re going to clean it.”

What could go wrong? The Cattanio-Alderman were the most influential people in all of this America, if not the entire world. Although they wore smiles and greeted everyone like Saint Maria, something about them was just off. Let’s see, four parents, I am talking about 3 men and 1 wife, their 3 daughters, and the eldest one who avoided the media like a plague,

And oh, money. They were the richest people in the whole of America, if not the rest of the world.

No one had that kind of money unless it was dirty money.

But, what did I know?