I suddenly found out I was heir to a throne. Well, maybe not a throne, but definitely an empire. A business empire. At the age of seventeen I finally found out who my real father is. And needless to say it was a shocking reveal. My mother was not happy about it. Not one bit. If she could have kept this secret till her dying day, she would have, but the truth does have a habit of coming out eventually.

I found the photograph in a box whilst looking for something in the attic. A photograph of her and him. I asked her about it. She brushed it off and tried to ignore my inquiries. I pressed on. And pushed and pushed until she buckled under the pressure and spilled the beans. I was angry. All my life we had led a hand to mouth existence. I was viewed and labelled as a poor kid, in our school and even among those I call my friends. And to find out that I was entitled by birth to so much more than I had received all my life, it drove me crazy. I didn’t speak to her for a full two weeks. One day, she knocked on my bedroom door, apologised yet again, explaining that she had been young, just a teenager and had made many mistakes. Then she asked me if I would like to meet him. She would make the arrangement or if I didn’t want that, she would give me his details, let me contact him directly. She confirmed that he did know about me, which made me more angry, but also relieved in a way to know that he wouldn’t deny my paternity. I agreed to make the call myself.

I managed to schedule a meeting with his personal assistant, pretending to be a journalist doing an interview for a business magazine. It appeared that he was quite a well-known, influential businessman. Marcus Caine Jr, the CEO of a massive business conglomerate, founded by his father. His business being pharmaceuticals. I hadn’t heard of him before but I decided that there was really no reason for our paths to have crossed in the past. Different circles, plain and simple as that. I arrived at his office a few minutes early. I had it all planned out, I would enter his office, shake his hand, and then come clean and introduce myself as his son. I didn’t even search for him on the internet. I wanted my opinion of him to be mine alone and not influenced by someone else’s point of view. Obviously, I don’t need to mention that I was nervous. Yes he was my biological father, but also an extremely successful man. I wanted to make a great first impression. I was disappointed that he hadn’t made more of an effort to have a relationship with me, but I had come to believe that that was completely my mother’s fault. She allowed the issues she had with him affect my upbringing and deprived me of the childhood I deserved. I was lost in thought when his PA gave me the go ahead to enter his office, with a small smile and gesture of her hand. And that was the moment my life changed in a way I would never have imagined.

Three months later and my relationship with my father was as solid as ever. We learnt that we had quite a few things in common and shared certain likes and dislikes. We liked the same sports. We shared the same eye colour, emerald green.We even realised that we had the same taste in women. He had been married twice, although he had had no other children for reasons he did not mention, and because I was his only child he changed his will to include me as the majority beneficiary. He even asked me to take his name so I was now Andrew Caine. For those three months, I had kept our relationship a secret from my friends. Even from my girlfriend, Eva, whom I had been dating for a year. I wanted to be sure that I was going to have a father who would stick around before I told anyone. I didn’t want to risk any embarrassment, but since he had included me in his will I knew that he was serious and would not abandon me again. So exactly a month from the day we met in his office, I asked him out to lunch and I took Eva with me so I could finally introduce them. It was an important day. I really wanted my dad to approve of the girl I loved. We arrived at the restaurant before he did. Since we had a few minutes, I decided I would tell Eva that we were there to meet my dad. I explained everything to her. She was very surprised and a bit disappointed that I hadn’t told her what was going on from the start, but she was genuinely happy for me. Leaning in to give her a quick kiss, my eyes caught sight of my dad at the doorway. I lifted my arm to get his attention, he walked over to our table and I stood up to greet him. And then something weird happened. Eva smiled as she turned around to greet my father, her hand already extended, ready to shake his, but the moment she saw him, her hand dropped suddenly, hitting a full glass of water that was on the table, knocking it over. There was a flurry of activity as Eva tried to help the waitress, who had rushed over to clean up the mess, all formal introductions forgotten. My dad and I just stood to one side until they finished. Then Eva mumbled something about the ladies’ room and left. My dad and I sat at the table and made small talk. A few minutes passed before Eva returned. She was pale as a ghost and her make up had vanished, but she smiled at my father and shook his hand tentatively. He seemed to like her immediately. He asked her questions about herself and showed real interest in her studies and plans for the future, in anything she had to say. She, on the other hand, didn’t say much and was silent most of the time, with the exception of a nod and a yes or no here and there. I thought she was being downright rude. When lunch was over, my father said goodbye and left. Eva and I sat in silence for a good few minutes, before she picked up her purse, told me goodbye and left. She was gone before I could stop her. I wasn’t sure I wanted to stop her. I was so upset with her behaviour and attitude towards my father.

Two weeks later, my father asked me to move in with him and I agreed. He had more than enough space at his place and it would only be a few months before I graduated and left for college. Things were awkward between Eva and I. We hadn’t officially broken up, but we also hadn’t discussed the problems between us. I had tried reaching out to her but she kept making excuses not to see me. I didn’t want us to break up but there was nothing more I could do. On the other hand, I was enjoying being at my father’s place. It was a huge three story house, with a tennis court and a swimming pool. There were servants to cater to my every need. It was awesome. One particular evening, my father was out with clients and I was alone at home. I decided to give myself a detailed tour of the whole house. After exploring all the upper level floors and not really finding anything interesting, I went down to the basement. It was huge and really clean and tidy for a basement. There were several boxes full of different kinds of things: sports and exercise equipment, Christmas decorations, gardening stuff, old clothing and much more. One of the boxes held a bunch of photo albums. I went through each one and there were photos of my father from a child till he got married. It was fascinating watching my father grow before my eyes as I went through each photo. At the bottom of the box I found a small flat red metal box, about the size of an A5 book. It had a built in lock mechanism. I was intrigued and was so curious to see what was inside, so I took the box back to my room. I needed to find a way to open it without anyone catching it. Unfortunately I could not find anything in my room to ‘jimmy’ the lock so I decided to go looking elsewhere. It was quite a small lock so nothing in the kitchen was suitable. I went to my father’s study and searched his cabinets and desk drawers. In his bottom desk drawer I found a bunch of keys of all different sizes and shapes. I took them up to my room thinking it was worth a try. There were three small keys and I hoped one of them would work. One of them did. And when I opened that little red box, I immediately wished I hadn't. It was one of the most disturbing things I had ever seen.There were twenty three photographs in the box. All were of women, lying on beds in different rooms. They were all naked and appeared to be asleep or unconscious. I went through each one carefully trying to make out anything familiar about the rooms or the women. Two of the photos really stood out for me specifically. One was of my mother, and the other of Eva. And in that moment so many little puzzling things made perfect sense. Things about my mother and Eva. I was sick to my stomach. It didn’t take a genius to conclude that my father was behind this. And it explained my mother’s and Eva’s behaviour towards him. Sitting on my bed, head in my hands, thoughts of the terrible things he had done to them flashed in my mind. I got dizzy. I ran to the bathroom and threw up. Then I went back to the photos. The one of my mother looked old and worn out and she looked quite young in it. It was dated on the back, exactly nine months before I was born. Eva’s photo was dated two months ago. In the box next to the photos I found a pill box with a card of little white pills inside. The name on the box was Flunitrazepam. It was Rohypnol. The date rape drug. I grabbed my phone and called Eva. I left her a message begging her to meet me. Then I waited.

Eva and I met at the park, our favourite spot. We sat next to each other on a bench in silence for a bit, each gathering our own thoughts. Then I broke the silence, “I know what he did.” She didn’t reply, just broke down crying, sobbing into her hands. I gently placed my arm around her shoulders but she shrugged me off and stood up quickly. She spoke without looking at me. “Andy, I know none of this is your fault, but I just can’t see you anymore. He is your father and that will never change.”

Things were over between Eva and I, that was for certain, and I was devastated and angry, but there was nothing I could do about that now. What I could do and needed to do was see my mother. So I went straight to our house from the park. As unpleasant as it was, I said what I needed to say to her, that I knew what he had done to her and that I now understood why she did why she did, why she kept me away from him. She hugged me tight, her tears soaking the shoulder of my shirt “Andy, I never wanted you to know, I knew how hurt you would be, but now that you do, I need you to get away from that man and come back home.” I smiled at her, “Yes mom, I know, but there’s something I need to do first.”

It was almost 11pm when I returned to my father's house. His car was in the driveway and the light was on in his study. I knocked on the door and he permitted me to enter. He was seated behind his desk, busy with paperwork. He looked up and smiled, “Andy, my boy, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” I walked over to the little cabinet that held his liquor. I turned and held up the crystal whisky decanter and smiled at him, “Nothing special, just wanted to have a drink with my dad and catch up.” I turned back and busied myself with fixing our drinks, “So how was your client dinner?” He proceeded to give me the rundown as I finished and walked over to him handing him his drink. I sat in the chair across from him and sipped my whisky. He took a swig of his. He finished his story, so now it was my turn. I set my glass down on the desk, “I found your red box.” He stared at me for a moment, his face expressionless. Then his face split into a grin I had never seen before. He looked evil, “Did you now? And did you enjoy what you saw?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. He wasn’t surprised, embarrassed or remorseful, none of those things. He was pleased that I had found out his dirty secret. I stood up and took a step back trying to get some distance between us. He stood up too, and walked around the desk towards me. I took a few more steps back until I felt the door against my back. My father stopped a few feet away from me, still grinning. He took another sip of his drink, “I don’t know why you look so shocked, Andy, you know how women are. They say one thing and mean another. It’s up to us to make things happen, to take what we want. That’s what they want us to do. So I kept mementos to remember the good times. So what?” I glared at him in disgust. There he stood, like a peacock, his proverbial feathers spread out, proud as ever. “You’re disgusting. I’ll never forgive you for what you’ve done to my mother, to Eva”, I was calm as I spoke, yet my jaw was clenched and it ached. He did not respond to what I had said, just continued to grin at me. He took another swig of his drink, then the last, and reached to place his glass on the desk. He lost his balance and the glass fell from his hand and shattered on the wooden floor. He grabbed hold of the edge of the desk with both hands for support. He looked very dizzy now, “Andy, I don’t feel so good. Could you help your old man to his chair?” I didn’t move. I just watched as he tried sluggishly and clumsily to find his bearings, to move around his desk to his chair. He failed. He tripped over his own feet and went down, fell flat on his back in the middle of the room. He was out like a light. I didn’t move for a couple of seconds, then I walked over to the armchair in the corner of the room. I picked up the little olive green cushion and walked over to where my father’s body lay. I knelt down beside him and placed the cushion over his face. It took a few minutes but eventually he stopped breathing. Then I walked over to the desk, picked up his empty whiskey glass and walked towards the door. I stood in the doorway for a moment, turned back and looked at him one last time. With one hand in my jacket pocket, feeling the little white pills between my fingers, I walked out and shut the door behind me.

© Susanna Perumal