Manhattan

Caesar knew that Amira was talking to him, but he was too consumed by his own thoughts to respond. Martina had fixed them smothered chicken for dinner, one of his favorites, but he found himself pushing his food around his plate with a fork. Admittedly, Martina was trying everything to get Caesar to eat, but he just didn’t have an appetite. He was still wrapping his head around the fact that he would never experience his father’s presence again. Outside of the home, he showed no signs of weakness due to that fact, but behind the walls of his family home it wasn’t so easy to pretend. The deaths of Joseph and Ed hadn’t even eased his pain. Not in the slightest bit.

“Caesar?” That time when Amira spoke, Caesar looked up from his plate.

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay?” she asked, and then a sheepish look came over her face. “I’m sorry. Of course you aren’t okay. Grieve as long as you want, baby. Just please eat something.”

Caesar’s plan had been to buy Amira her own house, but things changed after Cassius died. She moved into the mansion shortly after the funeral, and whereas Caesar was thankful for the company, sometimes he just needed silence.

“I’m not hungry,” he finally answered her.

“That’s the sadness talking. But your body needs food to keep up your strength. Plus, Martina keeps cooking all this food for you to cheer you up.”

“Nothing can cheer me up,” Caesar said, not meaning to sound as dry as he did, but he also didn’t care to clear it up.

“Maybe if you just try—”

“Dammit, I’m not hungry! How many times do I have to say it to be heard?” Caesar’s fist pounded on the table, and Amira jumped. “I wish everyone would just leave me alone.”

“Okay,” she said softly.

When Caesar looked up at her, he saw that she was genuinely hurt. It wasn’t just her expression that said it, but the tears in her eyes spoke to him. He instantly felt lower than dirt. She was just trying to be there for him. He opened his mouth to apologize, but she put her hand up to stop him and ran from the table.

“Dammit!” he said again and put his face in his hands.

He groaned loudly. Nothing around him was going right. His grief was beginning to consume him the exact same way it did when his mother was buried. Nothing and nobody in life could prepare a person for losing a parent. It was just a big bag of pain you carried wherever you went, never putting it down, no matter how heavy it got. It was a losing battle, especially with the entire King empire falling on his shoulders. He needed the cards in his hand to be reshuffled because he didn’t know what to do with them.

The sound of someone clearing his throat took Caesar’s attention from his own thoughts. Standing in the wide doorway of the kitchen was Donald, the King family butler. He was an elderly black man, older than Cassius had been, who always wore a black suit. His hands were clasped and resting on top of his belly as he waited patiently to be acknowledged.

“What is it, Donald? Don’t you see that I’m eating?” Caesar asked, and Donald raised a curious brow as he glanced at his untouched plate.

“I am sorry to interrupt your, uh, dinner, sir. But there is someone here to see you.”

Caesar groaned. He had half a mind to tell Donald to send away whoever it was. In his mind, he could only guess that the person was another family member coming to check on him. Niles’s mother had been the worst of the bunch. Every time he looked up, she was at his door. He sighed. “Who is it?”

“He gave me the name Nasir Lucas. Should I tell him you are busy?”

“No, it’s okay. Take him to the main sitting area. I’ll be there in a second.”

“Of course, sir.”

Donald left, and Caesar stood up from the table. He was dressed formally, as he always was. His father taught him when he was young that a businessman always dressed ready for business. Except at that moment Caesar didn’t know what kind of business Nasir was there on. He hadn’t heard from him since the funeral. But then again, if he and Cassius were business partners, then Nasir getting in contact should have been expected.

Caesar left the kitchen and went to what his mother used to call the “white room.” The name itself was telling. Everything in it was white except for the crystal decor all around it. She decorated it herself and made it off-limits. But when she died, it was hard for him and his father to stay out of it. It was like the white room was the only place in the whole house to carry on her essence, an essence that Caesar needed right that second. When he got there, Nasir was seated patiently on one of the comfortable couches with his arms spread across the top and his legs crossed.

“Caesar!” Nasir stood up upon his arrival.

“Nasir.” Caesar shook his hand before the two men sat down across from each other. “Can I get you anything? Refreshments, maybe something to drink?”

“No, thank you. But I have to say, you are more hospitable than your father ever was,” Nasir tried to joke but Caesar didn’t smile. “I apologize. It’s too soon.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s going to take me a while to get used to him being gone.”

Nasir studied Caesar with what almost seemed to be a concerned look on his face. “How are you holding up, Caesar?”

“Whatever is expected of a man in my position is what I am,” Caesar answered flatly.

“I’m not asking how Caesar the boss is doing, I’m asking about Caesar the person.”

“I never placed you to be the sentimental type.”

“When it comes to the sake of my business, I can be. Because as you know, your father and I were partners. Which means that now you and I are partners. And knowing how you are is important to me.”

It was Caesar’s turn to study him. He was trying to find his angle. But Nasir seemed genuinely interested in seeing where his head was at.

“I guess . . .” Caesar racked his mind trying to find the right words. “Do you know what’s crazy? Pretty much my entire life I knew I would take over the family business one day. I knew that I would be in charge of everything, but I thought I would have more time.”

“With Cassius?”

“Yes. It took his dying for me to realize that I never truly thought the day would come.” Caesar laughed in spite of himself. “A mortal man I knew would die one day, but I was still shocked when it happened.”

“Does that make you feel great sorrow?”

“Only a man without a soul wouldn’t grieve the death of his father,” Caesar said, looking into Nasir’s eyes. “But to succumb to that sadness would be disrespectful to his legacy. He was the king. I was the prince. Now I’m the king and nothing else will fall. I’m sure you heard what happened to the men responsible.”

“I did. I was impressed by how quickly you found out who was behind the deed.”

“I’m a thorough man. I’m not one to let these kind of things fester.”

“It’s a shame they won’t ever get brought to justice. I know the cops were thirsty for some kind of bust.”

“I got my own justice.”

“What I can’t quite understand is how exactly you found out who was behind it.”

“Let’s just say they should have used a revolver.”

“Fascinating. You know, the day your father brought you to meet me, I wondered why he had waited so long to introduce us. At first, I thought it was because he didn’t think you were ready, which could very well be true. But now I understand that he was keeping his best kept secret. He truly bred and brought up the ultimate boss. And you’re so young still.”

Nasir had an intrigued look across his face. It was like he was seeing Caesar for the first time. Caesar couldn’t tell what the thoughts were behind his eyes, but he could see something happening.

“I always find it funny when people are intrigued by my age,” Caesar said. “Maybe it’s because I don’t feel young. I never really got to enjoy my youth the way other boys did. My body is eighteen, but my mind is double that. But still, men only see my body, and they don’t care about my mind. And that’s why everything I do is unexpected by them. That enlists their fear. It makes them see and respect me.”

“Now I didn’t place you to be like your father in that way.”

“Because I’m not. My father purposefully did things to make everyone around him fear him. I simply am myself.”

“Powerful.” Nasir tapped his chin as he took in Caesar’s words. “You impress me every time you speak. I look forward to doing business with you, and I hope you look to me as I did to your father. As a kind of mentor of sorts.”

“I guess that just depends on you.”

“That it does. I’ll be in touch. But before I leave, I have a question for you. Before Cassius was killed, he was attempting what I consider a hostile takeover of the other territories. He had a plan, a crazy one. But it might have worked had he lived. Do you plan on continuing where he left off?”

“No,” Caesar said.

It was a short answer, but the truth. Nasir eyed him curiously, like he knew he was hiding something, but Caesar kept his poker face. He did have something up his sleeve, but it wasn’t to take over anyone’s territory. Cassius’s plan was callous and almost evil. Caesar didn’t see any kind of peaceful resolve in it. All he could see were the other families joining forces to eventually overthrow him. And that thought was what honestly sparked an idea. It might have been crazier than Cassius’s, but in Caesar’s mind it was better. In fact, with the help of Damián, Caesar had successfully set up a meeting with the heads of the other families, something he had decided against telling anyone about. Not even Amira knew, and at that second, he thought better of telling Nasir.

“Good,” Nasir said and stood. “I should be going now. I look forward to doing business with you.”

Caesar walked Nasir to the front door. He watched as he got in his car and drove away. Something about the conversation with him made Caesar remember that, although he had suffered a great loss, he still had much to look forward to. He just had to switch his mindset from thinking that the glass was half empty when it was actually half full.

He thought about Amira upstairs probably pouting, and he smiled, not at her pain, but at how hard she was going to make getting back into her good graces. She would forgive him though, especially when he came upstairs with a bowl of her favorite ice cream.

Sometimes it’s the winner who has to wave the white flag.