Chapter 8 POV Nicholas

I'd known something was off for as long as I could remember, but nobody ever talked about it. Growing up, I'd watched my father-Makidi-building his empire, commanding respect, and gaining loyalty. I wanted to be just like him, to take my place beside him, maybe even succeed him one day. But every time I looked into his eyes, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing.

It became painfully clear when Jimmy came into the picture. Jimmy was younger, quick to learn, and-most annoyingly-always had Makidi's favor. I'd watch the way my father looked at him, teaching him the things I'd spent years trying to learn myself. It was as if Makidi saw something in Jimmy that he didn't see in me. At first, I tried to ignore it, telling myself it was just my imagination. But the older I got, the harder it became to ignore the tension building between us.

One night, when everyone else had gone to bed, I sat alone in the dark, staring at the glass in my hand, turning it over as the whiskey burned down my throat. I needed answers, and I knew the only person who could give them to me was Mande. She had always been there, watching over everything, knowing every secret that hid within the walls of our home. If anyone knew the truth, it was her.

The next morning, I found her in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. She looked up when I entered, her eyes immediately wary. She must have sensed that I was about to ask something that couldn't be taken back.

"Mande," I said, my voice low, "I need to know something. And I want the truth."

She put down the knife she was using to chop vegetables, her face going pale. "What is it, Nicholas?" she asked softly, but I could see the hesitation in her eyes.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself. "Is Makidi... Is he really my father?"

Mande's face fell, and for a long moment, she didn't answer. But I didn't need her to. The silence told me everything. Finally, she nodded, her voice barely a whisper. "No, Nicholas. He's not."

The world tilted. I felt a cold anger swell inside me, bitter and dark, as the realization sank in. All this time, all those years of trying to prove myself to him, of being pushed aside for Jimmy... It all made sense now. I wasn't his son. I never had been.

I walked out of the kitchen, rage boiling inside me, twisting my gut. From that moment on, everything changed. I didn't care about the rules, didn't care about playing the dutiful son. If I wasn't truly his, then I had no reason to follow in his footsteps. And if he wanted to favor Jimmy, he could have him.

I started acting out, testing every boundary, pushing every limit. I knew it would get back to him, and I wanted it to. I wanted Makidi to know that I wouldn't be ignored or pushed aside any longer. If he thought he could replace me with someone else, he was dead wrong.

Every time he tried to talk to me, I'd push him away, daring him to confront me, to acknowledge the truth. But he never did. He just watched, his eyes full of something I couldn't quite name, something that only made me angrier. I was done trying to be the son he wanted. If I wasn't truly his, then he was nothing to me either.

And that's when I made up my mind. If he wouldn't give me the respect I deserved, I'd take it. One way or another, I'd make sure everyone knew that Nicholas wasn't someone to be ignored.