​I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, and reached for my phone on the bedside table. My heart nearly stopped.

​Forty missed calls. All from my father. All from last night.

​He was undoubtedly seething. I scrambled into my clothes, pressed a hurried parting kiss onto Johann’s forehead, and bolted out of the flat toward the manor.

​As I floored it in my BMW, my grip on the steering wheel was white-knuckled. I knew exactly what was coming. The shouting, the lectures, the inevitable ‘punishment’ of freezing my accounts or grounding me like a common child.

​When I arrived at the estate, the air inside was thick with a suffocating silence. I found my father, Matthias, sitting with Hanna in the drawing room.

​He lifted his head, his gaze piercing through me. "Max. Come here." He gestured to the seat beside him. I obeyed, my pulse racing.

​"My boy," he began, his voice laced with a strange sense of revulsion, "what on earth are you doing to yourself?"

​The word 'boy'—or rather, the way he used it—stung. He hadn't called me that in years. I felt a shift in the atmosphere, but I couldn't quite place it.

​"Max, answer your father," Hanna’s voice cut through my thoughts.

​I blinked, confused. "What do you mean, Father?"

​He sighed heavily, reaching out to touch my neck. "This."

​His touch was light, yet it sent a jolt of pain through me. I suddenly remembered: Johann had bitten me last night, leaving a dark, jagged mark.

​I looked away, flushed with shame. "It’s... it’s my boyfriend, Father," I muttered.

​Matthias didn't even look at me. "Has the entirety of Berlin’s female population vanished, for you to settle for this 'Johann'? Max, I see nothing healthy in this... arrangement."

​Fury bubbled up inside me. How dare he? Did he think he could play the 'concerned parent' just to force me back into his mould of a 'proper man'? He just wanted me to be a dull carbon copy of himself.

​"So, you’re trying to play the good father now just because you’re a homophobe?" I snapped.

​He looked at me in genuine bewilderment, but I didn't let him speak.

​"I am twenty-one! I am no longer a child for you to manipulate just so I can fit into your business projects!"

​"Max, please!" Hanna gasped, her face pale. "Calm down, he is your father!"

​I turned on her, my voice a roar. "Shut it, you gold-digging whore! Don’t you dare play mother with me. I’m not a fool."

​I didn't wait for a reply. I sprinted toward my room, leaving them both in the wake of my rage.

​Silence fell over the room. Matthias let out a hollow breath. "Fit my business projects? What has gotten into him?"

​Hanna placed a hand on his. "Matthias... don't you think we’ve neglected him? Especially these last few years. He’s an adult, yes, but he’s still family."

​Matthias pulled away. "I hear what you’re trying to say... but I haven't the time for such trivialities. If you wish to coddle him, go ahead. I have work to attend to."

​He stood up and left her there, more unsettled than the day she had married him. Hanna wanted to be a mother to Max, but a voice inside told her it was a lost cause. A child rarely loves the stepmother.

​Hanna walked to Max’s room and knocked softly.

"Go away, you arrogant bastard!" Max’s voice thundered from behind the door, thick with hatred.

​"Max, it’s Hanna! Please, open up."

​The door swung open violently. Max stood there, his eyes bloodshot from either tears or rage. "What do you want?"

​"Max, I want to talk... to understand," she said softly. "I promise, I won’t judge you or your partner."

​Max froze. Was this a trick? She’s a spy, he thought, sent by my father to dig for secrets. "No, thank you," he spat. "I’m not some pathetic insect begging for your pity."

​Hanna flinched as if he had slapped her. "Max, I know I’m not your real mother, but bottling this up... it will destroy you."

​Max slammed the door in her face. "Get out! I never want to see your pathetic face again!"

​To be continued...