Chapter 5 Abeni Mensah
Trill-Land, Royal Care Hospital
Isat beside my son, feeling a sense of relief that settled deep in my spirit.
It was the kind of unsettling that comes after days of sleepless nights and prayers whispered into empty rooms. I refused to leave this place until I knew every heartbeat inside my son was steady again.
Pressure had been awake for a full day now, speaking softly to his child, holding that tiny boy with his bandaged arms like nothing in this world could come between them.
Watching him fight his way back made me proud, because even at his weakest, my son was still stronger than most men alive.
Kojo stood by the window, quiet as ever with one hand tucked behind his back and the other holding his phone that he hadn’t looked at in almost an hour.
I could tell by the way his jaw moved that he was fighting to keep his temper down.
We had raised a warrior, but nothing could prepare a parent for seeing their own child laid up in a hospital bed.
The room smelled faintly of antiseptic and flowers.
Nurses came and went, trying not to look too long at me or the security posted outside the door.
They knew who we were, and they knew better than to speak unless spoken to.
Every nurse that touched my son had already been screened and cleared by my people.
I would allow no mistakes, no gaps in care or no chance for anyone to come near him with bad intentions.
My family’s safety was sacred. I had worked too hard, built too much, and held too many secrets to ever let poison touch what I loved.
I looked down at Pressure’s chest, then at his arms wrapped in gauze.
The bandages were thick, but beneath them, his life pulsed strong.
He wasn’t just alive; he was surviving, and fighting his way back from the edge.
His voice was low when he spoke. “Ma, I’m leavin’ this place soon. I’m not stayin’ here another night.”
I rested my hand over his, keeping my tone calm. “You have doctors who trained their entire lives to keep you alive, Pressure. Let them do their job.”
He shook his head. “They did their job. I’m good. I’m goin’ home with Pluto and my son.”
That was my child through and through. Stubborn, proud and impossible to move once he made up his mind. I could have argued, but I didn’t. Not because I agreed, but because I respected his spirit. He had almost died, yet he still spoke like a man who owned the world. I admired that.
“If you insist on leaving,” I said quietly, “you’ll do it my way. You’ll have private doctors on call twenty-four hours a day, and security will remain close. No one outside this family will get near you or Pluto.”
He nodded, though I could see the frustration behind his eyes. “Fine, Ma. Whatever you say.”
I sat back, studying him for a moment. The silence between us spoke louder than words ever could. Finally, I said, “I know it was her.”
His gaze dropped, but he didn’t deny it. I had already read everything I needed to know from the look in his eyes a day ago.
“She wasn’t caught on any of the hospital cameras,” I continued evenly, “but I had the footage from your mansion pulled the same night. She went inside holding a gun. Less than thirty minutes later, she came out with luggage and disappeared. I don’t need anyone to tell me what that means.”
He sighed deeply, pressing his lips together like he wanted to say something but couldn’t.
“I don’t need you to confirm it, Pressure,” I said softly, smoothing the blanket over his arm. “I know my son, and I know when he’s protecting someone he shouldn’t be.”
He stayed quiet, and his silence told me everything I needed to know.
For a moment, I just watched him. My son looked so much like Kojo when he was younger, from the same strong features, and the same commanding presence even while lying down.
He was my living reflection of every decision we had ever made.
And yet, the sight of him like this made me feel small for the first time in my life.
I had power across nations, but I could not protect my own child from a woman’s heartbreak.
He looked at me finally. “Where Pluto and my baby at?”
“They’ll be here in a minute,” I said. “Pluto was feeding the baby. The nurse said he’s doing well.”
He nodded, his voice lowering. “Good.”
When the door opened, the light shifted, and Pluto walked in slowly with the baby cradled in her arms. Her steps were careful, her body still weak from giving birth, but there was strength in her eyes. Three days old, and Prestyn Mensah already owned every soul in this room.
Right beside her walked little Zurie, her small hand holding onto Pluto’s gown. She was glowing with joy, her tiny braids bouncing as she spotted Pressure. “My P!” she squealed.
Pressure smiled at her, that soft half-smile that only she could bring out of him. “My Z.”
Pluto laughed gently. “Zurie, you can’t jump on him. He’s hurt.”
Zurie froze and giggled, her hands clasped behind her back as she stared at Pressure. He reached out slowly, his fingers wrapped in bandages, and touched her cheek. She leaned into his hand without fear, smiling so wide it made my heart warm.
I stood up and walked toward them. My gaze fell on Prestyn first. His small face peeked out from the blanket, his eyes half open as if the world was already too bright for him.
His little fingers curled tight around the edge of the fabric.
I leaned down and pressed my lips to his forehead.
“Hello, my beautiful boy,” I whispered. “I love you, my little light.”
Pluto smiled, tired but grateful. “He loves being held, Omá.”
“I can tell,” I said softly, brushing a finger down his cheek, before retrieving him from Pluto’s arms.
Then I turned to Zurie. “And what about you, my darling? Are you being good for your sister?”
Zurie nodded proudly. “Yes, Omá. But I’m hungry.”
I smiled faintly. “We’ll fix that. When we get home, I’ll have the chef make whatever your heart desires.”
She clapped her hands, excited, and I couldn’t help but chuckle softly. She had become family in every sense of the word. That child had been through more than most adults ever would, and yet she carried light wherever she went. I loved her as if she were my own grandchild.
I looked back at my son. He was staring at Pluto now, the two of them locked in their own world.
Their love was complicated, and fragile, but it was real.
It had survived the kind of chaos that broke most people in half.
I saw the way he looked at her and the way she looked back, and I knew that whatever battles lay ahead, they would face them together.
I leaned forward and kissed the top of Prestyn’s head again, then handed him gently back to Pluto. “Zurie and I will step out for a bit,” I said. “You two need a moment.”
Pressure nodded, his eyes softening. “Thank you, Ma.”
I touched his shoulder and met his gaze. “Get your strength back, son. Then get your house in order.”
He understood exactly what I meant.
When I turned, Kojo was still standing near the window with his hands clasped behind his back.
That was how he always stood when he was trying to keep his emotions contained.
For a moment, I just watched him. This was the man who had built this family beside me, the man who would move mountains if I asked him to.
I walked over and wrapped my arms around his waist, pressing my head against his chest. His hand came up slowly and rested on the back of my neck. I could feel the weight in his silence and the ache he was holding inside.
I lifted my head and looked into his eyes. “Everything is going to be alright,” I said softly.
He studied me for a moment like he wanted to believe me, then kissed me slow and sure, like he needed to remind himself that we were both still standing. “I know,” he said lowly.
I brushed my fingers against his jaw and whispered, “Hold it together for him.”
Kojo nodded, his voice low and deep. “Always.”
I gave him a faint smile before turning back toward the door. I reached for Zurie’s hand. “Come on, sweetheart,” I said gently. “Let’s get you something to eat.”
Outside the room, security lined the hallway in perfect formation. They nodded when they saw me, each one of them alert, armed, and ready. I held Zurie’s hand firmly as we walked toward the elevator. She looked up at me. “Omá, can we go home now? I’m really hungry.”
“Yes, my love,” I said warmly. “When we get home, the chef will prepare anything you want. Pancakes, waffles, whatever your heart desires.”
Her smile stretched from ear to ear, and that made me smile too. No matter how dark the world could get, this child reminded me that innocence still existed.
When we arrived at the mansion, the lights were already on with the staff lined up in the foyer waiting for orders. I guided Zurie toward the kitchen where Chef Niala was waiting. “Make sure our little princess eats well,” I said to her. “Whatever she wants.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Niala said with a nod, already moving to prepare the meal.
Zurie climbed up onto one of the stools, swinging her legs happily as she looked through the menu on the counter. I smiled at her one more time before excusing myself.
I walked down the long hall toward my office. I closed the door behind me and sank into my chair, the silence pressing down on me.
For three days, I had barely slept. Every hour had been spent reviewing security footage, making calls, and chasing leads that led nowhere.
Kashmere had vanished completely. But no one could stay hidden from me forever.
I had found senators’ secrets buried under offshore accounts.
I had found billionaires who thought they could lie to me and vanish.
Finding one brokenhearted girl would not be difficult.
Still, patience was my greatest strength. If Kashmere refused to come out of hiding, then I would simply move through the people she loved until she had no choice but to show her face. There were many ways to bring a person to their knees, and I had mastered every one of them.
I picked up my phone and dialed a number. It rang twice before a woman’s sultry voice answered.
“Are you ready to do what I told you to do?” I asked.
There was silence for a moment on the other end, then a faint, hesitant breath.
“That’s what I thought,” I said calmly. “I’ll be in touch soon.”
I ended the call and set the phone on the desk. For a long time, I sat in the quiet, my eyes drifting toward the family portrait that hung on the wall. My son had survived, but that didn’t make the anger in my heart fade. Pressure had made his mistakes, but he didn’t deserve this.
Kashmere had once stood in my home as a bride-to-be, a woman who swore she loved my son. Yet I had seen her weakness long before this. I saw it in the way she needed him more than she loved herself, and now her weakness had become destruction.
She had ruined her life and nearly taken my child’s.
And that, I would never forgive.