Young-Love

CHAPTER 10: NICO'S POV II

I had been cooped up in my room all day, the soft murmur of the mansion echoing beyond the walls. My arm still throbbed, trapped in a stiff black sling across my chest, but it wasn’t the pain that kept me awake — it was the silence.

A knock echoed from the door, then it slowly creaked open. Bella leaned in. She didn’t have the glow she usually wore, the one that came with being the untouchable Queen B. Her makeup was perfect, but her eyes weren’t. She looked... off.

“Dinner’s ready,” she said, barely meeting his gaze.

“You good, Mafia Princess?” I asked, sitting upright on the bed.

She shrugged, brushing him off. “Let’s just go.”

The walk to the dining hall was quiet. Suspiciously quiet.

We entered the grand dining room where the table was already set like a damn royal court. Mom sat at the end, her wine glass untouched. Carl sat beside her, scrolling something on his phone, tense in the jaw. At the head sat dad — arms folded. And next to him, Grandpa Mansa Musa — the coldest, most commanding presence in the room.

Dinner at the Lovereigns’ was never about eating. It was about control. Image. Power.

As I and Bella took our seats, a strange tension filled the space. I immediately noticed Bella and Carl throwing silent glances. Something had gone down.

I cut through the awkward energy like a blade.

“Alright, someone spill. What happened?” I said.

Carl sighed. “Some girl… attacked me today. Disrespected Bella, too.”

Mom’s head jerked up. “What? Isabella, are you alright?”

Bella nodded, quiet. “I’m fine.”

Dad, however, you guessed it doesn't give a s**t about Bella turned to Carl. “And you? You okay?”

Carl grunted, clearly annoyed. “I’m good, Dad.”

“You’re raising a bunch of girls, Malik.” Grandpa Mansa scoffed into his glass. “Nico’s the only man at this table, you need to set your kids straight, why would Giancarlo get attacked by a girl, isn’t he a man to fight back?”

Dad shot him a cold look but didn’t argue. Instead, he turned to Carl.

“Who was she?” he inquired

“I— I remember the name. Zuri. That’s all.”

Malik clenched his fist. “Nobody messes with my family and gets away with it.”

Bella’s lips curled slightly. For the first time, her father’s rage felt like protection — like he finally cared about her. Like he acknowledged her for the first time.

Dad turned to me.

“Nico, handle it. Zari—Zuri, whoever the hell she is — I want her head.”

Mansa Musa stood up from the table, brushing the crumbs from his white linen. He looked around the room with nothing but disdain.

“Y’all a bunch of clowns,” he muttered as he left, cane tapping cold against the marble. “I’m going for a vacation in Hawaii till y’all get your heads straight.”

Well I think grandpa Mansa is getting mental issues.

Anyway, I sat there, staring into my plate, wondering how I always ended up cleaning up my siblings’ messes.

And yet, there I was — the only ‘man’ at the table with dad.

The weight of it didn’t feel like pride.

It felt like a sentence.

I was pissed at Carl because he needs to grow up and handle his s**t like a man and dad too, I was his errand boy, always getting my hands dirty, so I excused myself from the table, I’d clearly lost my appetite.

###

The sun hadn't even peaked when I stood on the marble steps of the Lovereign mansion, squinting at the fleet of black Escalades gleaming in the morning light. My left arm still in a sling, bandaged tightly, aching with every move, but this task wouldn't wait, father’s orders never did. Dad had handed it to me like it was a gift, like revenge was something to be unwrapped.

Frank, my father's most loyal driver, opened the car door for me. “I’ve got all the intel we need, sir. You sure you don’t wanna see the file? Girl’s got quite a history.”

I slid into the Escalade’s leather seat and leaned back, exhaling hard. “Let’s just get it over with. I don’t need to get attached to her.”

I hated this. Hated every damn part of it but I had nothing to do.

The convoy rolled out, rumbling past the mansion gates, flanked by two more Escalades packed with armed men. Frank drove the lead car, eyes sharp on the road.

As the city sped by and the luxury buildings faded into grime, my thoughts turned bitter. My arm throbbed harder than before. My head ached. This wasn’t my mess. Carl started the damn fight, and somehow I was the one riding into the pits of hell to clean his s**t up.

After some time, the car turned down a narrow street littered with trash and boarded-up stores.

“Where the hell are we?” I asked, sitting up straighter.

Frank kept his eyes on the road. “Queensbridge Houses, sir. Projects. Poverty, drugs, g**g violence—all in here.”

I pressed my forehead to the window. Hobo on a stained mattress, woman yelling on the corner, two kids fighting with sticks over a busted scooter. Prostitutes on the street at 10 a.m “No wonder she got rotten behavior,” I muttered. “She from the streets.”

I leaned back in his seat, rubbing my temples. “How the hell did she even end up at Queens High?”

Frank smirked slightly. “Sir, I thought you didn’t wanna get attached to Zuri.”

“Yeah, I'd forgotten never mind,” I replied, sighing. “And stop calling me sir. Just Nico is fine.”

Frank nodded, his tone respectful. “Got it. Sending men to canvas the area.”

We slowed to a stop in front of a building with peeling paint and shattered windows. One by one, the Escalades behind us pulled in line. Men in all black filed out, weapons under their coats, eyes scanning the surroundings.

I stayed inside, fingers drumming the seat.

Minutes passed.

Then—

Pop! Pop!

Gunfire.

Frank sat up straight. “s**t. They’ve made contact.”

More shouts rang out. “Let her go!” someone yelled, then a scream from a woman, maybe two. Boots thundered on concrete. Men shouted orders.

Frank reached for his walkie. “What’s the sitrep?”

“We got her,” came the reply, static breaking between words. “She resisted. Locals tried to stop us. Fired back to scare ‘em off. All under control.”

I clenched my teeth. “Get her in the car. Now.”

Seconds later, I saw through side mirror of the car. They had grabbed Zuri and shoved her into the back seat of the car behind mine. She was kicking, snarling, but they held her tight. One guy climbed in with her, slamming the door.

Frank hit the gas.

The convoy peeled out, tires screeching, disappearing into the city haze.

I said I didn't want to get attached but I was already feeling pity for her. She was about to lose her life, simply because my b***h a*s brother felt provoked.

###

The convoy of black Escalades rolled through the rusted gates of a dimly lit warehouse tucked between forgotten shipping containers and piles of city waste. As soon as the engines cut, the silence hit harder than the hum of metal and rubber.

I stepped out, the heavy arm sling pulling down on my shoulder like it was stitched with guilt.

Frank met me near the back of the car.

“She’s ready, sir, I mean Nico.” he said, handing me a Glock.

I gripped it without a word. The steel felt cold. Too cold. Not from the metal but from what it meant. I didn’t even know this girl, but my pops had made it clear: she crossed the family. Now it was on me to tie the knot on Carl's mess. Clean up the reputation. Show I was ready to takeover after dad when he retires.

I pushed through the door into the warehouse.

She sat at the far end, tied to a chair, back towards me, blindfold still on. Her head dipped low, shoulders shaking slightly. Silent.

One bullet. One pull. I raised the Glock, aimed it at her head.

Then she spoke.

“Just do it already,” she said, her voice soft. Like she’d been expecting this moment. Accepting it.

I froze.

Her calmness wasn’t bravery. It was surrender. That was the kind of sound that sticks with a man. That voice would echo in my bones for the rest of my life if I pulled that trigger.

I backed away.

Outside, I walked over to Frank. “Give me a ski mask.”

He c****d his head. “You good?”

I took the mask. “No. And that’s why I need the damn mask. Seems I’m getting attached.”

I returned to the room, pulled the ski mask over my face. One-handed, I untied the blindfold and walked around her. She blinked slowly in the dim warehouse light.

Her eyes—

Ocean blue like mine. Deep, tired, broken.

And her face—light brown, soft features, fragile but sharp. Strong cheekbones. She looked like—

No.

I wasn’t that stupid.

But trust me, she looked like my mother. Contessa. Same eyes, same fire buried under the sadness.

Tears hit my cheeks. I turned away fast.

She spoke again.

“Sir, if you’re gonna shoot me, do it quickly. I’ve had a rough life but I’m happy to meet my dad soon. My life’s been a nightmare.”

I clenched my jaw.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“Zuri. Zuri Youngblood.”

Youngblood.

The name stabbed me in the chest. My brain fired a flashback in the hospital. I was tryna remember the name of my shooter. The name was now clear: Andre Youngblood.

She should be his daughter.

Fuck.

Like father, like son. My dad shot her dad and I was about to shoot her.

What the hell was this cursed loop we were in?

Guilt sank its claws deep. I turned my face, blinking tears away behind the mask.

I clutched my g*n, my finger grazed the trigger.

Bang!

The shot rang out by mistake.

Zuri screamed.

I dropped the g*n and lunged forward.

“Are you okay?!” I asked, pulling the blindfold halfway up again.

“Just shoot me already,” she whispered, shaking. “I’m fed up of this life, why is it so hard.”

I stumbled back, breath caught in my throat. My arm ached from the sudden jolt. I stormed out.

Outside, Frank stood leaning on the hood.

“Well done, sir, I'll have someone get the body.” he said like he was proud.

Tears rolled down my cheek.

“I couldn’t shoot her, Frank.”

Frank didn’t flinch he turned to one of the henchmen. “Julio, go handle the girl.”

I was still contemplating what had happened then it hit me, my eyes widened. “What?! No, wait—”

Too late.

I ran back in, chest heaving, arm screaming with pain.

Julio had her in his sights, shot g*n aimed at her head.

I tackled him full force.

The rifle fired—a deafening c***k. Sparks flew from the concrete.

My sling tore loose. Arm burning. But all I cared about was her.

I grabbed her blindfold off.

“You okay?”

Tears streaked her face.

“No. But I’m not hit,” she said. “Stop playin’ with me man and just hit the target, It hurts knowing that you gonna die soon—so please, just do it.”

She stared at me. “Your arm. It’s bleeding, sir.”

“It’s nothing.” I shrugged

A long pause spread the atmosphere.

“Who are you?” she inquired calmly. “Who sent you, Malik Lovereign?”

Damn she knew my dad. I had to lie.

“No, no one sent me, I work alone.”

“Then why did you kidnap me and tried to kill me, was it Bella or Carl who ordered you?” she insisted but frightened.

I’m gonna say it, I loved her bravery.

“I don’t work for anyone, Zuri.” I shot back.

“Okay then why did you kidnap me?” she inquired boldly.

I paused.

“Zuri, I’m sorry you got caught up in this mess, but I think there’s more to your life than you and I even know.”

She blinked, it was like seeing a miniature replica of mom do so. What the hell was going on. Why was the person I was sent to kill look like mom?

“What more of my life is there?” she inquired.

“Right now? I don’t even know anymore. But one thing—you’re safe. I’ll be your protector, little one.”

Her lips trembled. Her hands shook. Her eyes were locked in mine for some good time then she smiled. My mood too changed, for the first time in a while I actually felt happiness and comfort. I smiled too but my ski mask covered my mouth.

I placed the blindfold back gently. “I need you to trust me, I mean no harm I'll see you soon.”

“Can I at least see your face.” She requested but I couldn't let her see it, for her own good.

“Okay at least maybe your name, sir.” She insisted.

I removed her blindfold once again, just wanted to see those blue ocean eyes blink once again, damn they were so comforting—I can’t even explain. Then it hit me.

“Ocean eyes—call me ocean eyes.” I replied as I pulled the blindfold back on.

I turned to my men.

“Take her home. Safe and sound. Anyone touches her again, I’ll bury them myself.”

I walked out, every step a war between guilt, anger, and confusion.

Frank was waiting with the file. So, I requested for it. I needed to gather more information on Zuri. There was something special about her, I could feel it in my guts.

As I scanned through the file, Frank summarized it. “Zuri Youngblood. Born April 14th. Daughter to late Andre Youngblood. Mom is neglectful, so she currently lives in under guardianship of Roscoe Mitchell-one of your henchmen.”

April 14th echoed in my head, that was Bella's birthday. It couldn't have been a coincidence that they were born on the same day. Could it mean—

I stared at the folder. Heavy as hell for just a few sheets of paper.

“Thanks,” I muttered, sliding into the Escalade.

Frank started the engine. “So... what now?”

I looked out the window as the convoy started rolling.

What now?

Hell if I knew. But one thing was certain:

Mom and pops were definitely hiding something, I'm yet to find out.