Damian.
Later that day, just as I was about to leave for the airport, my younger brother Darin appeared.
Great. Bad timing.
I have a critical flight to catch for an important appointment in Mexico tomorrow. The sooner I get there and start, the better my chances of finishing on time and getting back home.
"Damian, we need to talk," he said, holding a stack of files in one hand and two large rolls of carbon paper in the other.
I don't have time for this. If I don't leave now, I'll be thirty minutes late. "Darin, can't this wait until I return? I have pressing business in Mexico, and I thought you and your wife were already back in Switzerland."
"I don't think you can afford to delay this," he said, moving to the bar, sitting on a stool, and dropping the documents on the counter.
His expression was flat, and I returned his look with equal resolve. It was clear he wasn't going to let this go.
I glanced at Nathaniel, who was waiting patiently at the door with my briefcase full of project materials for Mexico. "Darin, let's handle this over the phone. I need to leave now," I said, putting on my sunglasses and heading for the door.
"Hold on, bro," Darin said, stepping directly in my path.
Seriously?
First, my friends showed up unexpectedly, and now my brother insists he has something urgent to say? What kind of circle of people do I have?
How did he know I was at the penthouse and not the mansion?
But little did I know…
I took off my sunglasses as Darin spoke again. "All the gunmen who shot me eight years ago are in custody now. You won't believe it, but the whole thing was tied to Dad's dirty politics."
I know Darin doesn't have much regard for our father, but this better be serious.
Moments later, we were spread out in the living room, sifting through files and documents. The bar counter was far too small to handle all these revelations.
I had already instructed Nathaniel to cancel my flight and reschedule my Mexico meeting. This news took precedence.
I picked up a photograph of a man who seemed unfamiliar to me. He was enormous—far larger than any heavyweight champion.
I flipped to another photo. This man was fit but not as bulky as the first. Despite the differences, it was clear these individuals were dangerous, evident from their appearances and tattoos.
"How did you survive them?" I asked.
Darin pointed to the first photograph. "He's the leader of the group. He was the one who pulled the trigger."
I nodded, but needed clarification. "How are they connected to Dad's politics?"
Darin took a deep breath and pulled out a file from under the carbon paper. He opened it, revealing printed text and smaller photographs. "January 28, 2006," he said, pointing to the text. "Dad was campaigning for head of state. His opponents, Safari Momodu and Babatunde Omowummi, were also in the race." He indicated the two smaller pictures attached to the paper.
I rubbed my face in frustration and sighed. "Sir Babatunde is dead, Darin. He was Adira's father."
"Yes," Darin responded, picking up another file. "He died during the election period." He pointed to a document. "Babatunde was with the OPL Democratic Party, and Safari was his vice. Dad, on the other hand, was with the UUD Progressive Party and had his financial secretary as his vice."
Darin placed the files on the table and crossed his arms, his elbows resting on the surface.
"So, what's the next step?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. "The last thing I want to hear is that Dad killed someone just to gain a political position and caused that shooting."
Darin let out a wry laugh but grew serious immediately. "Damian, after severe interrogations, those men confessed that Babatunde was murdered in his study by one of his officials—supposedly Safari." He continued, "We have footage of the murder, but it's too blurry to clearly identify the killer."
I clasped my hands under my chin, struggling to believe the news.
"The video was distressing," Darin said, pulling out his phone. I quickly turned away, unable to watch.
"Where did you get this video?" I asked.
"From the same source as all the other information," Darin replied, slipping his phone back into his pocket. "One of the gunmen said the late commissioner helped Dad secure the presidency after a bribing sacrifice mom paid. So, Safari's retaliation was to target one of dad's sons, just to get back at dad. Precisely me as the prey in their plates."
I slammed my fist on the table, unable to contain my anger.
"Calm down," Darin said, gathering the files. "The men are in custody and are being thoroughly interrogated. I've also heard that one of Dad's men has captured Safari. He's been removed from his position and is facing trial this weekend."
"I knew this dirty game of politics would come back to bite us."
"Not anymore," he said with a soft chuckle. "Dad's getting older, and his focus is slipping. He'll probably step down sooner or later."
"Step down? I doubt it," I said. "Did you miss the part where he wanted to run for head of representatives?"
"Damian, let's not get bogged down by that old man. I'm just grateful he's not one of those selfish fathers who'd sacrifice their families for personal gain."
"Isn't this similar?" I countered, knowing my father's tendencies. "What does politics look like in a fool's diary?"
He shrugged and spread out the carbon paper. "Here are some plans from Brother Felix and Ryan. One is to identify who was behind Adesua's death, and the other is to find the person responsible for destroying Adira and Brother Felix's first marriage."
Interesting.
I scrutinized the plans. "So, each plan has an 'A' and 'B.' Seems like you have a lead already. Otherwise, why make these plans now?"
"Exactly. And it's coming from Babatunde's side."
"Huh?" I frowned, puzzled. "The Omowummi family? What's their connection to this?"
I was skeptical.
**********
That night, I missed my flight and my meetings in Mexico.
I lay in bed, arms crossed behind my head, staring at the ceiling.
What's going on?
What's happening in this family and in my life?
Everything is shrouded in secrets and scandals—lies, deceit, and betrayal.
It's like a house with countless doors but no windows.
A tangled mess with no clear path.
Where is this leading?
I can't find the beginning or the end.
What kind of chaotic web of lives and events is this?
One problem solved, two more to tackle.
It's like we're in a math class trying to solve for 'X' and 'Y.'
Who knows who will be next?
I'm at a loss for what to do.
It feels like I've completely lost control.
I have a woman hidden away in my mansion while I stay sequestered in my penthouse. I can't bring her into my family's turmoil because of the ongoing chaos and conflict. I care for her deeply and want to shield her and her family from the mess that surrounds me.
My current life is fraught with danger and disorder. If she were to discover the extent of my family's troubles, she might see me as a monster. I don't want to cause her any harm or put her in jeopardy.
Even though I feel a strong urge to confess everything to her—including my love—I'm afraid she might hate me forever. The thought of losing her or scaring her away is too daunting.
As I was about to fall asleep, a startling realization made me snap awake as if I'd seen a ghost.
Nathaniel's investigation from two years ago uncovered that I have a child from a relationship seventeen years ago. This discovery, made a couple of months ago using Nathaniel's advanced methods, confirmed that I am indeed a father. Only Nathaniel and I know about this; not even my friends are aware. I'm waiting for the mother to come forward, but if she doesn't soon, I'll have to take matters into my own hands.
I suspect she knows I'm the father and is deliberately keeping it from me, maybe thinking I haven't discovered it myself or I'll plot to steal the child away from her. But wether or not I take the child, he is still my blood. Then why is she treating me this way?
I acknowledge my own mistakes, but shouldn't she have informed me? I'm also a parent and have a right to know about my child.
I never expected that a single night from seventeen years ago would have such immediate consequences. People might see it as a mistake or a regrettable chapter in my life, but I've moved past that regret. At the time, I was just a teenager, and it seemed like a mistake. Now, as an adult, I feel no shame. I imagine the mother of my child also feels a sense of pride in what came from that night.
Sometimes, just thinking about having a child with someone I barely knew brings a foolish smile to my face. The boy's name 'Liam' fills me with a sense of triumph, as if I've accomplished something truly significant.
It brings me joy.
It's still hard to believe, as everything feels as if it happened just yesterday, right under my nose.
The party, the one-night stand, the baby—every detail still feels like it happened just yesterday.
I can't help but wonder what she endured over the years, carrying the burden of pregnancy alone, day and night. She must have faced scorn for being pregnant out of wedlock, especially at such a young age. If she had parents, how did they treat her? Did they disown her and cast her aside?
I remember I was under fantasy and pleasure that night and the only thing I can recall was us going on a joyride. It's delusional and really blurry to recall. I've tried cracking my head so many times to refresh the memory of the incident but I couldn't. I tried so many means to search for her. I even went to my father's five-star hotel where the incident happened and checked the footage surveillances, yet, I didn't get a thing.
The whole thing became mysterious as if fate wanted it to happen. And ever since that time I lost her, I made a promise to myself that I'll go to any mile to search for her and find her and marry her even if it'll take me to the end of the world to find her. Because she was a virgin until I took it away. And that was my ideal girl to marry when I was growing up. Virgins.
Another thought hit me. What if she's married or in a relationship when I meet her?
Well, I don't care. I'll still fight to win her back. Even if she was ugly or some kind of alien, I'll still give my heart to her. She deserves it. She's a blessing to me.
I knew I was wicked to have taken away her pure innocence and I'm sorry for that because even the both of us weren't ourselves during that passionate moment. We were drugged and drunk accidentally. But why didn't she come to look for me even when I dropped my calling card?
I know my father would have killed me if he had found out that his eighteen years old son impregnated a teenage girl. But if she had come looking for me, there would have been a way we both could have raised up the child in secret by ourselves.
Two years after I began chatting with Pearl online, I received the report. However, it was only two months ago that I began actively searching for the mother and child.
One day, with some free time on my hands, I decided to drive around town. I stopped by the park and then the stadium.
There, I saw a group of boys deeply immersed in a soccer game. Their passion was evident; it was as though they had poured their hearts into the match, despite it being an informal game.
I found myself unexpectedly drawn to the scene. Though I had never had an interest in street soccer before, I sat and watched them play in the heavy rain. Their clothes were soaked and muddy, yet their enjoyment of the game was palpable.
The stadium was empty except for Nathaniel, who stood beside me. The game featured four teenage players and two teenage goalkeepers. My attention was drawn to a teenage boy who played with such intensity and skill that he reminded me of my younger self playing soccer with Darin and Brother Dayo.
As the rain grew heavier, the boys decided to quit and head home. I stood up to leave as darkness approached but then remembered something important. I quickly called Nathaniel over and whispered my instructions. He immediately set to work following them.
Here's what I told him:
I inquire the presence of the sports board and committee and proposed a soccer scholarship program for one outstanding player that will have the highest score in the team match. The winner of the competition would receive a long-term scholarship for education abroad, including a master's degree.
I was stunned to later find out that the boy who had caught my attention—playing with the flair of Cristiano Ronaldo and the scoring prowess of Leoni Messi—was awarded the scholarship.
It turned out that he was my biological son. Liam.
Indeed, blood is thicker than water.