14. Chapter 14
King Damini
The mouth-watering aroma of toasted melon seeds, rich palm oil, slow-braised goat meat, and smoked fish was thick enough to coat the back of my throat.
I was standing over the marble island in the primary kitchen, in my element as I whipped up lunch for me and Adanna alongside our Chef.
I loved food—always had, always would. Years ago, I had taken a full year-long trip across the world, hitting almost every continent just to taste the earth through its cooking.
But African tribal cuisine was where my heart lived.
Today, I was making authentic Egusi soup paired with pounded yam.
"Look at the separation on the oil, Chef," I said, pointing my wooden spoon toward the copper pot.
"You can't rush the melon seeds. You gotta let the egusi toast in the palm oil with the crayfish paste first until it blooms. The flavor profiles are deep—earthy, nutty, spicy, and rich as hell.
In the motherland, this ain't just a meal; it's a sacred ritual of comfort and survival. It's meant to ground you."
I gently plated the heavy stew into two wide bowls, placing a hot mound of pounded yam on the side. I took a clean cloth and meticulously wiped a tiny splash of sauce off the rim, perfecting the presentation.
BANG!
BANG!
BANG!
BANG!
A rapid-fire burst of suppressed gunfire echoed from the deep backyard, making the heavy glass windows rattle. Chef jumped a full foot in the air. I flinched, but I managed to keep my grip on the towel.
I sighed, shaking my head. "Thank you, Chef. You're good to go."
He didn't need to be told twice. He gave me a terrified, tight nod and sprinted toward the staff exit. Hell, I couldn't even blame him—I was scared to go near the back doors myself.
Adanna had been running on zero sleep for another full week, but shit had gotten ten times worse ever since her aunt stopped by. I didn't know the full details of what went down behind those locked doors, but I knew whatever Chief Idris said had cut Adanna down.
We hadn't had sex since that night, and I noticed she had turned hyper-aggressive. Not toward me—if anything, she was quieter around me—but just toward the world in general.
On top of that, the military had finally issued a formal command forcing Brooklyn to report for the prenatal DNA test. But Brooklyn had claimed she was bleeding, and the doctors confirmed mild spotting caused by severe emotional stress. So, I had been keeping quiet to keep the peace.
Knowing I was not in the mood to get shot up by my wife in the backyard, I pulled out my phone and texted Adanna ten minutes ago: Food’s hot. Come inside.
She had been out there for three straight hours shooting at targets and oak trees. I didn’t even know we had that many automatic weapons stored in the house.
I carried the plates over to the dining table and sat down in my usual chair. While I waited, I pulled out my phone to scroll through my emails, quietly eating my first few bites.
I opened a thread from the inner-city youth initiative I funded back in the city.
The students I helped with college tuition and trade grants were transitioning remarkably well into their fall semesters.
I smiled softly to myself, reviewed their quarterly reports, and clicked approve on their updated supply budget before firing off a quick text to Elder Osei to approve their budget.
Next in my inbox was a formal invitation requesting my appearance as a guest of honor at the annual Fruit & Cultural Festival.
I paused, looking at the flyer. A part of me missed being among the people, shaking hands, and stepping into the community.
But with the war firing up on all sides, I just did not trust being out in public like that right now.
I politely drafted a refusal email, attached a generous ten-thousand-dollar donation, and hit send.
Heavy footsteps echoed down the long marble corridor.
A second later, Adanna rounded the corner into the dining room. She unclasped her chest rig and threw her firearms onto the side table. The metallic clatter of spare magazines hitting the floor made the room ring.
Despite the gunpowder hanging off her, she walked up behind my chair and leaned down. She pressed a long kiss to my forehead, and her lips lingered against my skin before she pulled back and slid into the seat right next to me.
She looked at my half-eaten bowl, preparing to catch an attitude. She asked, "You ate without me?"
"I tried not to, baby," I said, setting my fork down.
She eyed me. "How you feeling today?"
I smirked, giving my shoulders a light shrug. "If you mean do I still see red and feel foam bubbling out my mouth? Nah, I'm good."
She nodded. Then, she stared at the golden Egusi and the mound of pounded yam, awaiting my presentation.
"Today we have authentic Egusi," I said. "It’s slow-simmered toasted melon seeds, palm oil, and tender goat meat, served with fresh pounded yam…Tear off a piece of the yam, make a little well with your thumb, and scoop the stew."
I watched her face closely. The second the rich, savory aroma hit her tongue, she lit up. The tension in her shoulders melted away.
"Thank you," she murmured softly.
"You're welcome," I nodded, watching her dive in.
I took another bite of my own food, but when I looked back up a minute later, she was already more than halfway done with her bowl.
I bit the inside of my cheek, hiding a smirk. Whenever Adanna was trapped inside her own thoughts, her appetite spiked. I sat back, watching those chubby cheeks chewing away. I found myself smiling like an idiot, mesmerized by her.
Adanna caught me. "What you looking at?"
"You," I said simply. "You like dinner?"
She gave a casual shrug, swallowing her bite. "I mean... it's decent."
I raised an eyebrow. "Just decent?"
I caught the tiny twitch at the corner of her lips before she rolled her eyes. "Yeah. I'm not about to gas your head up."
"Mhmm... Hey, Danni."
She looked at me.
"You wanna talk about it?" I asked softly.
"No!" she snapped.
She let out a sigh, picking up her fork again to finish her last bite. She clapped her hands twice, and the remaining household servants bowed and exited the wing, leaving us alone.
Once the doors clicked shut, Adanna groaned loudly, slumping back into her dining chair. "She pissed me off. And now we're at war."
"Who?" I asked.
"Chief and me."
I watched her eyes darting everywhere around the room except at me. I knew Chief Idris was the closest thing Adanna had to a mother on this earth. I knew how often they communicated behind the scenes, but in all the time I had known Danni, I had never once seen them actually fight.
I treaded lightly, keeping my tone measured. "What did she do?"
"She... she just..." Adanna hesitated, struggling with her words. "She made me say something I shouldn't have said."
She didn't elaborate any further, so I used what I had. "She made you say something? Since when has anyone forced you to do anything?"
"Never," Danni muttered, staring at the tablecloth.
"Right," I said. "So did she make you, or did things just get a little heated?"
"I don't like being told what to do!" she said.
I looked at her pointedly, keeping my mouth shut. If I pushed, she'd shut down, but if I held space, she'd talk.
"But at the end of the day," I said quietly, "she's the person who made sure you were good when the world didn’t. Did she say whatever she said out of concern... or control?"
Adanna rolled her eyes. "Concern."
I nodded slowly, finishing the last bite of my pounded yam. "Okay... so you just didn't like what she said, and you said something wrong?"
"Yes," she admitted. "Very wrong."
She started toying absentmindedly with her gold utensil, tracing patterns on the plate.
"So why don't you just go talk to her?" I asked.
"I ain't doing that shit," she spat.
Damn. She was as stubborn as a rhino.
"Babe," I said, resting my forearms on the table.
"You've been on edge all damn week. You're out in the yard shooting up my oak trees at seven in the morning.
I think if you know you were wrong... and she was just trying to look out for you, maybe you should at least try and talk to her.
I don't see that woman ever leading you astray. "
Adanna’s eyes narrowed. "She talked to you?"
I nodded honestly. "Yes. But not about you. Just checking on the estate."
Adanna crossed her thick arms over her chest, letting out an unnaturally loud, dramatic sigh. "Fine. I'll talk to her... after we go have some fun."
I squinted at her, totally thrown off. "Fun?"
Adanna nodded, a faint, mischievous glint returning to her eyes. "Yes. Jade said we're having a game night tomorrow night, and we're going. Invite your friends."
My eyebrows hit my hairline. "You actually want to meet my friends?"
"No," she replied. "But it'll make it more fun."
Then, her eyes drifted over to my empty stoneware bowl, and she glanced toward the kitchen counter where the extra copper pot was sitting.
"You made extra?" she asked.
I smirked, leaning back in my chair. "Why?"
Adanna rolled her eyes, pushing her chair back against the floor. "Don't piss me off, Dame."
She quietly walked over to the counter, grabbed the ladle, and piled a second helping of Egusi and pounded yam onto her plate.
"Mhmm," I chuckled under my breath, watching my Queen eat her feelings away.