Page 61 of King of Deception

“Hey, dad?” he scoffed. “What’s the matter with you?”

“How do you mean?”

“Oh, we’re gonna play it that way.”

“I—I don’t know—”

“When was the last time you called me or your mother? Mind you, the last time you left the house? You don’t think I have Briga’s number?”

Smirking, I clicked my tongue. “You’re keeping tabs on your grown-ass son. The epitome of any healthy relationship.”

“It is when he’s not acting so grown up.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I demand an explanation as to why you’re drinking yourself to death. You show up at the company looking like a train wreck. You—”

“I get it. You’ve got all the reports.”

“Abel… son… do you need help?”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “Are you referring to a drinking problem?”

“Well, what else could it be? How long has it been, right under our noses, before it got so out of hand? How were we so blind, Abel, and how could you be so irresponsible?”

“Dad, dad…” I sharply exhaled. “It’s not what you think.”

“You don’t know the first thing about what I think—”

“Dad,” I interrupted him, “I’m flying to Mykonos tomorrow.”

“With whom?”

“Nobody. I’m going to my place.”

“Alone.”

“Alone, yes. Is that a problem?”

“On a whim.”

“I need a break.”

“From what? The view? You’re sick of the Atlantic, so you wanna get drunk by the Mediterranean instead?”

“Dad,” I huffed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Would you like to come along? I promise it’s nothing like that.”

“Actually, yes, I think I will. What time do you take off?”

“Nine o’clock. We can move it—”

“Don’t,” he sternly said. “I’ll be there.”

“Fine.”

*

The next morning, we took my jet and essentially fled to Greece. I shut my work phone and instructed Iris not to call me on the private number unless New York was burning down. As far as my friends were concerned, I was taking dad away for a change of scenery. Adele, on the other hand, texted me one line.

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