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After his years of abject, poverty stricken existence, he intended to live a full life, whatever it may mean to another.
One of the bedrooms had been converted into a gymnasium. The other was his daughter's room. She had never been here and neither had he spoken to her since the day she rushed away from him to ride back home in her new dad's limo, the look of disdain clearly written all over her face.
But she was his baby and would always remain so no matter what level of brain washing she was being subjected to by her mother and new father.
There was a huge floor to ceiling picture of him and his daughter. It had been taken at Disneyland when things had been much different at home. Her favourite teddy bear and dolls were neatly placed on her bed. The rest of her belongings sat around the room including the wooden rocking horse. Even the wardrobe held some of her clothes.
Nancy hadn't bothered to take most of the stuff. During their last year or so they really hadn't gone in for much of purchases as money was short in coming. They had tried to continue with the existing things. Now of course she wouldn't be needing them. But they were all here, neatly pressed and placed.
Brad spent some quiet moments in his daughter's bedroom. He always did that. Somehow it made him feel better. Sometimes he almost felt her there in the room, beside him or on the rocking horse.
It was a ritual that he never failed to complete. For some long moments he kept staring at the picture, imagining her, thinking of the happy moments they had spent together as father and daughter. Then he got up and moved to his bedroom. It had wall to wall carpeting and the furniture showed off the wealth he had.
But he was lonely. The pain just wouldn't go away, even after bedding so many women whose faces he couldn't recall let alone their names. He threw some fresh clothes on the king sized double bed. No one had shared the bed with him. No one. He had enjoyed all his women in the hotel room that he kept permanently reserved in the name of one of his employees. The mere thought of bringing a lady friend to his home made him sick at heart.
In his mind he imagined Nancy seductively lying on the bed, waiting for him, enjoying the wealth he had amassed. No, she was being enjoyed by Harold, he was her provider and keeper.
The monster within him began emerging from the dark shadows it had laid hidden in. His eyes which had just shown love and compassion in his daughter's room turned cold and vicious. His breathing came faster.
He looked at his watch. Yes, he would fuck that marketing executive's wife tonight while her cuckold ceaselessly toiled to make her more comfortable. His erection was now evident. He quickly put on some fresh clothes and moved out for the hotel room where another man's wife laid waiting for him with her legs wide open.
Brad put his pen down and stretched out his legs. It was late afternoon and he had been going thru the manuscript on his desk with a fine tooth comb for the past five hours.
He hadn't had his lunch even. It was a well written piece of work and he was sure the serial based upon this story would top the charts, and so he didn't want to leave any stone left unturned. His cell beeped a SMS alert. It was Rita. "Guest delivered home," read her message.
Brad smiled to himself. Last night he had brought Susan over for the night. A couple of days earlier he had finished editing the third chapter of her husband's story and had met them that evening over dinner to discuss their progress. Susan had been seated between him and her husband. Over dinner he explained to her husband some changes he wanted him to make in the fourth and fifth chapters which would be in line to his editing the first few chapters.
Her husband listened intently, nodding his head in agreement.