Chapter 2
Nicholas
I woke up to the sounds of the city coming to life below me. At my feet, the skyline of Lula Hills stretched as far as the eye could see. Even before sunrise, the city was already buzzing with sounds of the hustle and bustle of a major city.
If I looked hard enough, I could almost see The Bluffs, the neighborhood where I grew up.
Some days, it was a distant memory. While on others, I felt like I was right back in the thick of things, making shit happen on the block.
I lay there for a while, partially awake as I had all night long.
I wasn’t a stranger to a restless night.
Tossing and turning was second nature to me.
One of the first things I thought of when I opened my eyes was my daughter.
Amira was the most important thing in the world to me.
It made me sick that her mom tried to use her as a pawn in her mission to make my life miserable.
No matter what I had going on, I tried to see my girl as often as I could.
I couldn’t always be there physically, but I made sure to call at least two nights a week to read Amira a bedtime story.
Lucinda was determined to make me feel like a deadbeat dad, but I refused to let her poison my daughter’s mind against me. It was probably eight o’clock at night when she texted me. As soon as I picked up my phone and saw Amira’s gorgeous face, I knew her mom was on some bullshit.
Cindy: Your daughter misses you, Nic. When are you coming by?
Soon. My reply was always soon. Of course, that was never good enough for her.
Cindy: I hope you ain’t blowing off your daughter for one of your side pieces.
Instead of going back and forth with her, I went and picked Amira up.
She had some nerve. Cindy wanted to pretend like she hadn’t trapped me into this back and forth co-parenting hell we lived in.
We had been on and off for years. Our relationship was toxic as hell.
She got pregnant right when I was walking away from the streets.
I felt like her getting pregnant when she was on the pill was a sign.
Cindy and I didn’t have the best dynamic from the start, but I wanted a family.
It wasn’t until I was with her during one of her visits that I found out that she had been off the pill for months by the time she got pregnant.
It didn’t take long to figure out that a relationship between us wouldn’t work.
Not only was I not in love with her, but I couldn’t trust her.
I tried to force it because I wanted to give my daughter and her mother the world.
Cindy couldn’t accept things for what they were. She wanted me to sell her dreams of a fake marriage, a fairy tale life, and bragging rights to her friends for bagging me and locking me down.
When she realized that she would never get her way, she started to use my daughter as a weapon. Cindy let me see Amira when it suited her. She faked emergencies and told lies to manipulate me and monopolize my time.
It pissed me off that Cindy did everything in her power to punish me for not committing to her. I wanted custody of my daughter, but I didn’t have time to go to war with the mother of my child.
It was my goal for us to have a cordial relationship. I had enough problems outside of our back-and-forth. Amira was never going to be one of my problems. I would do anything for her. That was the reason that I stopped what I was doing and went to pick my baby girl up last night.
“Daddy?” My baby’s sweet voice sounded through the hall, making me crack the slightest smile.
No matter what I had acquired in my thirty-something years of living, my daughter was my most prized possession. It sickened me that every day I had to fight to be more than just a bank to my daughter.
I swung my legs out of bed, feeling the tension in my muscles from the previous day’s workout. Sometimes I pushed too hard, but the solid frame that kept me with a little bit of an edge didn’t come without a little work.
“Brush your teeth and wash your face, princess. Daddy will be right out,” I called to my daughter as I headed to do the same for myself.
In the bathroom, I splashed a little cold water on my face to wake myself up before getting my day started.
I ran my hand over my waves, giving myself a quick once-over.
My lineup was still fresh, and my beard was trimmed low, making the stray strands of gray more apparent.
I thought I would hate going gray, but it made me feel more distinguished.
“Buenos días, princesa,” I greeted my daughter in Spanish.
I enjoyed teaching my girl Spanish. Her grandma on her mother’s side was Dominican and hated that Cindy didn’t try to teach her Spanish.
It didn’t matter that I was Black; I knew the importance of speaking and understanding different languages.
I was over twice Amira’s age when I started to learn Spanish.
I looked forward to her becoming more fluent with time.
“Hola, Papi. Can we have pancakes?”
“Are you making them?” I asked, pausing to wait for her response.
“No, silly. I can’t cook.”
“Why not? You should be cooking by now. When I was your age, I had three jobs.”
“That was the old days, Daddy.” My baby girl giggled.
“Well, I’m going to have to teach my princess how to cook in the new days.”
“OK, then I can make you pancakes.”
I watched as she climbed up on one of the leather barstools, making sure she got on her perch safely. No matter how big she got, I was still protective of her.
Once Amira was situated, she picked up her tablet from the counter and went about her business of watching her annoying videos while I made her breakfast. I usually skipped breakfast, but for my girl, I would whip something up.
A cup of black coffee got me right while I fed my daughter and helped her get ready for school.
By the time I finished up, I had been updated on school, her friends, and her favorite teacher.
I hung on to every word, knowing that I would forget half of their names.
She would remind me all over again the next chance she got.
Amira talked nonstop. I usually enjoyed quiet mornings, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered if my girl wasn’t happy. My main priority in life was to be present for her. Amira deserved someone in her life who wouldn’t flinch or fold when it came to responsibility.
By seven thirty, I had kissed my princess goodbye at the drop-off spot in front of her school.
I didn’t give a damn about the rules. I sat there and watched her until she disappeared inside the building.
I wasn’t taking any risk when it came to my child.
Although I liked to keep a low profile, there were people who knew who I was.
Even near this expensive ass private school, there could be someone lurking around with the intention of hurting my daughter to get to me.
I made it to Cashville by eight. Like most casinos, it was open twenty-four hours a day. Things didn’t really get moving until around ten. By then, the staff moved like clockwork. The dealers were in place, and the waitresses were on point making sure everyone’s drinks were filled.
I moved through the building with quiet pride.
Next to my daughter, Cashville Hotel and Casino was my pride and joy.
I’d built it from the rubble of an abandoned casino to what it was today, with two of my closest friends.
Reed was the face of the business and a marketing genius.
Sawyer was the head of operations and security, using his expertise to make sure nothing got in or out without our knowledge.
Because of my uncle Darrell, who sent me to college, I was a whiz with numbers. At Cashville, I was the money man and made sure the finances ran smoothly. I did what I needed to do to make sure the numbers were right at the end of the day.
There were actually four of us. Aside from my two best friends, Reed and Sawyer, my cousin Darius was the fourth most important member of the team.
I’d hired him on as the director of strategic partnerships.
It was some shit that I didn’t even know existed until I was searching for a home for him in the casino.
Darius’s job was mostly fluff, but he was my boy.
His dad took me in when I was fourteen and headed into the system when my mom went to jail for drug possession.
Uncle Darrell was like a father to me. I would be forever grateful to him for teaching me the game.
I’d convinced my boys to practically make up a position for Darius due to his dad’s influence on my whole life.
Darius was a suburb kid. He didn’t know shit about the streets, and that was fine.
As much as I tried to convince him that there was nothing wrong with being who he was, he insisted on trying to put on this street facade that he mimicked from his dad.
Darius wanted everybody to think he was so tough, but in reality, the fact that my uncle was a well-established kingpin by the time he was born saved him from the struggles of the hood.
Living a spoon-fed life made him soft. I couldn’t fault him for being privileged, but at some point, he had to grow up and learn how to get it for himself.
For the past seven years, I had been giving him chance after chance to wake up.
So far, he was still the spoiled, entitled kid I played with every summer before I went to live with them.
It was Uncle Darrell who taught me how to read people.
He was the one who showed me the importance of learning different languages.
Everything I learned from my uncle gave me the skills to trade money and favors for loyalty and connections.
Over the years, I helped Uncle Darrell grow his underground gambling spot into two locations.
Eventually we had a multimillion-dollar operation.