It was time to go see the king that raised me.
Eboni Keep in Nzuri Hall
When I pulled up to The Keep—my parents’ mansion—I didn’t even need to announce myself. The pearly gates eased open like they recognized my presence. My name carried weight here, but not just because I was Kojo and Abeni Mensah’s son. It was because even with all their power, I was the one they built to carry the next chapter of it.
The driveway curved like a private runway, lined with royal palms and violet blossoms bred to only grow in this part of Trill-Land. The marble exterior of the estate gleamed under the sun like it had been waxed twice, then kissed by God. The Keep wasn’t just a house—it was an empire disguised as a home. It had its own energy, and own heartbeat. You could feel the history in the stones.
As I slowed down in front of the circular entrance, the gardener stepped out with a respectful nod. He was older, quiet, and always kept the grounds pristine like his life depended on it. I gave him a chin lift and kept movin’.
I took my time walkin’ inside. The floors were polished white stone, and still cool even through my leather-bottom kicks. The ceiling stretched high with gold inlays and soft violet lightin’ that glowed through handcrafted chandeliers. The Seraphine crest was stitched into the rug at the foot of the grand staircase—my mother’s signature in gold thread, remindin’ everybody who really ran things behind the scenes.
They were waitin’ on me in the sittin’ room. My mother was seated on the velvet chaise in a lavender silk gown, sippin’ somethin’ hot out of a fine glass teacup. She looked calm, collected and untouched by the world. That was her way—always poised like she had every answer before the question could form.
My father was on the opposite side, sittin’ straight in his dark tailored suit with no tie, and his shirt unbuttoned just enough to show his chain. He wasn’t flashy, but you knew not to play with him. Kojo Mensah wasn’t just the man who built Trill-Land’s infrastructure—hewasthe infrastructure. He owned the companies behind the entire sovereign defense grid, from the AI drones that patrolled our borders to the smart ammunition that tracked its targets by scent and sound. Nations and rebel groups alike bought from him through shell corps, unaware they were being supplied by the same man. It was Black ops meetin’ Wall Street, and Kojo sat comfortably at the intersection.
I kissed my mother on the cheek and shook my father’s hand like a man. His grip was firm like always, and his face was unreadable.
I took a seat across from them, leanin’ back in the chair, tryin’ to keep my energy cool even though I could already feel that somethin’ was comin’. They was both lookin’ at me like they were about to drop news I wasn’t gon’ like.
Kojo spoke first.
“Ka’mari’s father called me.”
I didn’t say nothin’. I just looked at him, waitin’.
“He was furious,” he continued. “He said you stormed into his future son-in-law’s bachelor party, disrespected everybody in the room, and forced the man to call off the wedding.”
He paused like he was givin’ me a chance to explain, but I didn’t have anything to say. He wouldn’t understand anyway. There wasn’t no way to justify what I did to someone who didn’t feel shit the way I did, so I stayed quiet.
He then gave me a long look before sighin’.
“I don’t know what happened between you and that girl,” he said, “but that ship has sailed, son. It’s time to let it go.”
My mama set her cup down gently. “We’ve let you walk your own path long enough,” she said, her voice smooth but serious. “You’re twenty-six now. It’s time to think about the future, about building something real. Son, you need a family, a legacy.”
I rubbed the side of my neck and exhaled slow. Here we go.
They had been pushin’ this marriage thing for the past year, tryna arrange somethin’ clean and respectable. I kept pushin’ back, tryna delay it, tryna make them understand that I wasn’t wired like that. I wasn’t just gon’ pick some borin’-ass girl out of a lineup and call it destiny.
My pops reached down and picked up a thick leather-bound book off the table beside him. He dropped it in my lap, and it landed with weight.
“What’s this?” I asked, already annoyed.
“A starting point,” he said. “Profiles of the women we’ve found. There’s over twenty of them. All qualified. They all come from strong families. Any of them would make an excellent wife.”
I opened the book and started flippin’ through. Faces stared back at me. They was smilin’ and had perfect posture. They was pretty, safe, polished… and borin’ as hell. Every one of them looked like she’d panic if I lit a blunt in front of her. I wouldn’t marry none of these women. I wouldn’t even let most of them sit in the passenger seat of my car. I damn sure wasn’t about to bust in ‘em and let them carry my seed.
I flipped a few more pages, then closed the book and set it down like it was hot.
“I can’t do it,” I said, lookin’ straight at my mama. “None of them. I can’t marry somebody I ain’t attracted to.”
She looked back at me calm and for a second, I thought maybe she’d slide to my side. But then she said, “Then choose your own. But youwillchoose.”
My father leaned forward, restin’ his elbows on his knees.
“This isn’t about attraction,” he said. “It’s about securing the next generation. I built everything I have so I could pass it to you, and I want to pass it toyoursons. But I need to know that when I leave this earth, it’s going to somebody who understands legacy. Who’s protected by the right woman, with the right name, from the right bloodline. You want to stay in this will? You’re going to have to step into position.”
I swallowed hard but didn’t speak right away. I could feel the weight of everything he just said. I knew what he meant. I knew he wasn’t just talkin’ money. He was talkin’ about the power behind the name, the empire behind the gate, the black card that don’t expire, the war machines, the politics—the whole damn throne.
