Chapter 56
Devon Laveau-Wells
“A father done fighting.”
Istood against the wall, wiping my mouth with my shirt, mad as fuck. I looked around the room, and everyone stood quietly, even my brothers. They had me pissed as well. They didn’t intervene; they let him think he had the upper hand, but he didn’t.
I built this family from the ground up. I wasn’t going down without a fight. I only agreed because I knew my son was raised to be trigger-happy. I raised him to be the man he is. I was the reason he had that much boldness in his blood.
I looked at Shayla, my wife. She didn’t even bother to help me. She stood back, smirking and shaking her head. I ignored it and addressed my brothers.
“So y'all just let that shit go down like y'all wanted it to happen?”
My big brother stepped up to me. “I think you should step down.”
“What?” I turned up my nose.
“Nephew handles everything as it is. You just the face now. Let that kid become a man.”
“Yeah, my own family are traders. He wants my spot? Tell him he’s gotta pull that trigger next time.” I grabbed Shayla’s arm and left.
The ride was silent. She didn’t say shit to me, and it had my mind racing.
When we got home, the tension was thick in the air.
Every step I took through the house felt heavier than the last, like the walls themselves were watching me.
My own son.
Putting his hands on me.
Putting a gun to my head like I was just another nigga on the street.
I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand and pushed through the double doors into the sitting room.
My wife followed me.
Of course she did.
Shayla walked to the bar. After she poured a drink, she sat down, legs crossed, wine in her hand, as our world hadn’t tilted.
She looked up at me.
Amused.
“Well,” she said, “you look terrible.”
I frowned. “You molested my son?”
She took a sip of her wine. “I did what?”
My voice dropped. “Don’t play stupid with me.”
She smirked. “I’m not playing anything.”
“You know what you were doing to him. You were giving him liquor since he was twelve, so you could groom him.”
She let out a soft laugh. “You’re going to have to sound more realistic.”
My hand slammed against the table, the glass rattling under the force.
“You hurt my son, and he thinks it’s my fault.”
Her smile didn’t disappear.
In fact…
It grew.
“Oh...”
She leaned back in her chair like we were having a casual conversation.
Something in my chest snapped.
“You did it.”
She tilted her head.
“Of course I did. I had to teach him how to be a man. Show him that he is royalty. Just face it… Zacian is better than you. That spark you had when you were young is gone.”
My breathing slowed.
Dangerously.
“You telling me you did that in my house?”
She shrugged. “You were in the same house, Devon. You heard him. You walked in.” Her voice turned sharp. “So, you tell me.”
My fists clenched. “I wasn’t there.”
“Exactly.”
The word hit like a slap.
She leaned forward slightly, resting her chin against her fingers.
“You weren’t there for your kids. You were too busy running the streets. Moving weight. Making money. Cheating on me with my sister.”
Her eyes locked onto mine.
“Building your empire.”
Her smile turned colder.
“While I handled everything else at home.”
My vision blurred for a second. “You’re lying.”
She laughed. “No. You knew enough.”
Silence.
Heavy.
Ugly.
Because deep down…
There were things I chose not to question.
Things I didn’t look at too closely.
And she knew that.
“You don’t get to stand here and act surprised now,” she continued. “Not when you benefited from everything I kept in order.”
My hand moved before I could think. I punched her in the face, hard.
The crack echoed through the room.
Her head snapped to the side as the glass shattered from her grip and hit the floor.
She stayed still for a second before she slowly turned her head back toward me.
She smiled. That was the part that made it worse.
“You mad at me?” she said softly, “or you mad at yourself?”
I grabbed her by the arm and yanked her out of the chair. “Don’t test me.”
She laughed under her breath even as I pushed her back.
“You finally want to be a father now? He doesn’t need you.”
The words cut deeper than anything else she’d said.
“You should’ve been one when it mattered.”
My fist connected again.
This time harder.
She hit the ground.
I stood over her, chest rising and falling.
She didn’t cry.
Didn’t beg.
Just looked up at me with that same twisted calm.
“You think hurting me fixes it?” she asked.
“No,” I said.
My voice was low.
Cold.
“But it starts something. I want you out of here.”
She wiped the blood from her mouth slowly.
“You don’t have control anymore, Devon.”
She said my name, like I was already beneath her.
“Your son made that clear, and so did your own brother.”
“Watch how you talk to me.”
She smiled again. “You should be careful. Zacian and his friend are dangerous.”
I stepped closer. “Or what?”
Her eyes flickered slightly. “For someone who just lost everything…” Her voice dropped. “You’re very easy to find now.”
The threat hung in the air.
But this time…
I didn’t react.
I just looked at her.
I saw her for exactly what she was.
“Yeah,” I said calmly and stepped back.
“But you easier.”
Her smile faded.
Just a little.
I turned and walked out of the room, leaving her on the floor where she belonged.
Because one thing was clear now.
The house wasn’t hers anymore.
And it damn sure wasn’t mine.
It belonged to Zacian.
And whether I liked it or not…
That boy had just declared war on his own blood.