Owned By My Cold-Hearted Psychotic Straight Boss

HENRY

My heart thudded hard against my chest. My throat felt thick and dehydrated. Beads of perspiration had already taken form on my forehead. I reached out and wiped them with the back of my clammy palm.

The cab was now getting closer.

I am visiting my parents, and I'm so nervous and uncertain of how this visit will go. It has been eight long years since I last saw them. And I couldn't help but wonder how they would react when they see me, especially my dad.

Even though I was scared shitless at the moment, my chest still burned with optimism. I hoped my dad would accept me and take me back as his son.

I hoped he will come to understand that I am a gay person and it can't be changed no matter what. I hoped that his knowledge of gay people had broadened over the years.

I hoped that he would see that this is who I am. That being gay feels like me. Feels like home.

I can still remember his stabbing words and the revolted expression on his face that day he kicked me out eight years ago. That day has been engraved in my memory since then.

A slow, shaky breath slipped past my lips.

God, I hope things will be a lot different this time.

The cab driver swerved the car to the right, into my parents' street. I braced myself, not helping but flicking my gaze around the place. It wasn't surprising that everywhere has changed since the last time I was here.

“Pull over here,” I said to the driver, pointing at our house.

He nodded silently, then rolled the car to a slow halt in front of our house. I wetted my dry lips with my tongue, letting out another deep sigh. Then I paid him and climbed out. I stood by the curb and watched him drive off.

When he was out of sight, I exhaled for the umpteenth time, clutching the stuff I had bought close to my chest. I blew my cheeks and turned to face our house. I pressed my lips together.

“Here goes nothing.” I muttered under my breath.

Then I climbed up the concrete steps. Paused on the porch. Took one last, slow, deep breath. Rang the doorbell. And then I waited.

Gosh, I swear the seconds felt like ages. My shirt was slightly soaked with cold sweat. And my damn heart just wouldn't stop hammering against my ribs.

The door finally opened, revealing Mom.

Her big, blue eyes flew wide in the utmost astonishment. A startled gasp escaped her lips, almost as though she couldn't believe it was me.

God, I've missed her.

The wrinkles on her face made her look slightly older, compared to the last eight years I saw her, and it kind of pained me that I was not here to see this process of her getting older.

“Oh, my God! Henry!” She exclaimed shrilly. Then threw herself at me.

I caught her, wrapping my arms around her in a warm, passionate embrace. “Oh, Henry, is this really you?”

A soft chuckle slipped past my lips, “Yes, Mom, it's really me.”

“My boy.” She hugged me tighter, head on my shoulder, “I cannot believe it. I've missed you so much.”

“I've missed you more.” I mumbled, hugging her even tighter. Tears took form in my eyes, threatening to trickle down, but I blinked them back quickly, sniffling. “I've missed you like crazy, Mom.”

We stood there on the front porch, embracing each other for a long while, and when we finally let go of each other, barely, she smiled up at me and cupped my face in her hands.

“Oh, my boy! How have you been?” She asked, voice quavering and full of concern. Tears trickled down her cheeks. I reached out and wiped them with my thumb. “Have you been well? Please tell me you've been well all these years. God, I'm such a terrible mother, I…”

“Hey, Mom. Mom!” I cut her off, putting both hands assuringly on her shoulders, then smiled down at her. “It's okay. It's okay. I'm fine. I'm fit and well. Don't you see? Look.” I flexed my biceps. “I go to the gym every day, and I'm in good health, hmm? Besides, it's not your fault that Dad kicked me out, okay?”

“But I…”

“There was nothing you could have said or done to change his mind.” I said quietly, “I want you to know that I'm not blaming you for what happened… nor Dad. Okay?”

She searched my gaze for a long split second, seeing I meant every word, she gave a little nod, wiping her tears. Then she stepped to the side and gestured for me to enter.

“Come inside," She said, “I want to make you something.”

“Hey, this is for you.” I said cheerfully as I stepped into the foyer, then handed her the stuff I bought on the way, “Where's Dad?”

She took the stuff I handed her, shut the door and walked past me. I followed behind her.

“He went fishing with his friends. He'll be back anytime soon.” She responded, “Settle down, dear. I'll go fix you something.”

Then she disappeared into the kitchen.

I stared around the house as I took a seat on the couch.

The street sure has changed, but everything in here was exactly how I remembered. The coffee table, the bookshelf filled with my mom's favorite novels, the vase with fresh flowers on the side table, the family photos on the wall, the worn-out armchair where Dad always sat, the rug that had been there for as long as I could remember, the curtains with the familiar floral pattern, and the big window that let in a flood of natural light.

Everything. Literally everything was just as it was when I left it, frozen in time, yet filled with nostalgic memories and emotions that came rushing back as I sat there.

[Hi there, author here. Thanks for reading. Just wanted to let you know that this is a dark erotica MM romance, meaning that across these chapters there'll be gruesome stuff like abuse, stalking, degradation, power play, also murder and a bunch of other stuff. Yeah. So, if these aren't your cup of tea, you can kindly skip this book. Thanks for your time.]