Chapter 6
A month passed.
I started at a new school.
It was a private school. Very fancy. Very expensive.
I was nervous at first.
But the kids were nice.
And I was good at soccer.
I made the team.
I made friends.
I was happy.
My father came to every game.
He sat on the sidelines, cheering louder than anyone.
He was proud of me.
And I was proud to have him there.
My mother came to the games too.
She sat with my father.
They talked sometimes.
Small things. About the game. About me.
It was progress.
Slow progress.
But progress.
My father started teaching me things.
He taught me how to defend myself. How to fight. How to shoot a gun.
"Just in case," he said. "I hope you never have to use any of this. But I want you to be able to protect yourself if something happens to me."
I learned quickly.
I was good at it.
My father said I was a natural.
He also taught me about his business.
Not the criminal parts. Not really.
But he taught me about leadership. About respect. About loyalty.
About how to treat people.
"A man is only as good as his word," he would say. "If you say you're going to do something, you do it. If someone is loyal to you, you be loyal to them. And if someone hurts the people you love... you make them pay."
I listened.
I learned.
I wanted to be like him.
Strong. Respected. Honorable.
Even if his business was... complicated.
One day, my father came home looking worried.
He called a meeting with his top men.
They talked for hours.
When they were done, my father came to find me and my mother.
We were in the living room, watching a movie.
He sat down beside us.
"There's something I need to tell you both," he said.
His voice was serious.
"What is it?" my mother asked.
"Remember I told you I had enemies?" he said. "The ones who made me fake my death?"
My mother nodded. Her face went pale.
"They've found out I'm alive," he said. "They're coming for me. For all of us."
My mother's hand flew to her mouth.
"What are we going to do?" she asked.
"Nothing," my father said. "You two are going to stay here. The house is secure. The guards are doubled. Nothing will happen to you here."
"And what about you?" I asked.
My father smiled.
"I'm going to handle them," he said. "Like I handled them before. I'm not going to let them hurt my family."
He reached out and took my mother's hand.
To my surprise, she didn't pull away.
"I promise you," he said. "Everything is going to be okay."
My mother looked at him.
For the first time since he came back, I saw something other than anger or fear in her eyes.
I saw trust.
"Okay," she said softly.
That night, I couldn't sleep.
I was scared.
But I was also excited.
My father was going to fight.
To protect us.
And I wanted to help.
I got out of bed.
I went to my father's study.
The door was open.
He was sitting at his desk, looking at some papers.
He looked up when I came in.
"Can't sleep?" he asked.
I shook my head.
"Dad?"
"Yeah, son?"
"I want to help," I said. "With the enemies. I want to fight with you."
My father smiled.
He stood up and walked over to me.
He put his hands on my shoulders.
"You are helping," he said. "By being safe. By being strong. By being my son. That's all I need from you right now."
"But I want to do more," I said. "I want to fight. I want to protect you and Mom."
My father's eyes softened.
"You will," he said. "Someday. When you're older. When you're ready. But right now, your job is to be a kid. To go to school. To play soccer. To let me protect you. That's what fathers do."
He pulled me into a hug.
"Go back to bed, son," he said. "Everything is going to be okay. I promise."
I nodded.
I went back to my room.
I still couldn't sleep.
But I felt better.
My father would protect us.
May you like
Everything would be okay.
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