BLOODLINE CHRONICLE: A MAFIA FATHER'S JOURNEY

CHAPTER 05: JUST LIKE BARGAINING WITH THE DEVIL

Hakimi barged into Riqqo's office, his jaw clenched and his eyes blazing. "I'm Hakimi. Akashi's father," he said, his voice low but dangerous.

Riqqo leaned back in his chair, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Ah, the forever polite Hakimi. Nonsense, brother! Drop the courtesy," he said, bursting into a laugh. Leaning forward, he jabbed a finger into his chest. "We're family, okay?"

"Family?" Hakimi’s voice cut through the air like a blade. "Then why did you hurt Akashi?"

Riqqo groaned and waved dismissively. "The kid who thought he could steal from me? Don’t tell me he cooked up some story and sold it to you."

"My son didn’t steal from you, Hakimi growled, fists trembling at his sides. Clear his name and give him his job back."

Riqqo’s laugh was sharp and mocking. "Why would I? Isn’t he too young to work anyway?"

Hakimi stepped closer, his tone cold and unwavering. "You’ve never been a good uncle, so spare me your concerns. If you don’t give him his job back, I’ll make sure everyone knows what kind of operation you’re running. I’ll go to the police, the media. I’ll ruin you."

Riqqo’s smirk faltered, replaced by a flash of anger. "You think you can threaten me?"

"This isn’t a threat. It’s a promise. My son is innocent, and I’ll prove it," Hakimi shot back, his voice steady and resolute.

The tension in the room was suffocating. Finally, Riqqo leaned forward, his smirk returning. "Fine. He can have his job back. But if either of you steps out of line, there will be consequences."

Hakimi nodded, a grim sense of victory settling over him. "He won’t let you down. Neither will I."

"You may leave," Riqqo said, turning his back on Hakimi. Without another word, Hakimi walked out of the office, his shoulders heavy but his resolve unbroken.

---

Hakimi pushed open the door to his home, the confrontation with Riqqo still fresh in his mind. He found Akashi seated at the dining table with Khadijat and Amira. Akashi’s hair hung loosely around his face, unkempt and shadowing the tension in his eyes. The girls sat quietly beside him, their expressions curious yet subdued.

Hakimi lingered for a moment, his heart aching as he watched them. He cleared his throat, and their heads turned toward him. "I’ve got some news for you, son," he said, forcing a smile as he placed a hand on Akashi’s chair.

"What? Did you win the lottery?" Akashi quipped, attempting a grin. The girls laughed lightly, but the humor didn’t reach Hakimi.

"Not quite, Hakimi said, his voice faltering. I talked to Riqqo. He’s agreed to give you your job back."

Akashi’s face darkened, his grin disappearing. "I don’t want to go back there, Dad."

Hakimi’s chest tightened. "I know it’s hard, Kashi, but we need the money. I can’t handle the expenses on my own."

Akashi’s fists clenched. "They already think I’m a thief. Going back will only make it worse."

Hakimi’s gaze fell to the floor, shame pressing down on him. "I’m sorry, son. But please… do this for the family."

The room was silent. Akashi’s eyes searched his father’s face, reading the desperation etched in every line. Finally, he sighed. "Fine. I’ll go back. But only because you asked."

Hakimi nodded, his victory tainted by guilt. He turned away, leaving the siblings to their conversation.

---

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the house was filled with muted voices. Hakimi stood by the doorway, eavesdropping on his children.

"You know," Akashi said, a faint smile playing on his lips, "I had to sneak back into the exam hall last week. They kicked me out because we couldn’t pay the fees. But I disguised myself and finished the papers anyway."

Khadijat gasped, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You didn’t!"

"Oh, I did, Akashi chuckled. Wrapped a scarf around my face and slipped right past them."

Amira giggled. "You’re unbelievable."

Hakimi’s heart sank deeper. Their laughter was a cruel contrast to the humiliation Akashi had endured. Quietly, he stepped away, retreating to the dimly lit parlor. He sank into the worn couch, his head in his hands. Guilt clawed at him, sharper than ever.

---

Later that night, Hakimi sat alone in the darkness, a cigarette burning between his fingers. The silence was deafening, broken only by the occasional crackle of the ember. He stared at the floor, the weight of his failures crushing him.

He crushed the cigarette in the ashtray and stood, his reflection in the cracked mirror above the sink staring back at him. Hollow eyes. A man beaten down by life. He splashed cold water on his face, trying to wash away the despair.

Slipping quietly into the children’s room, he found them huddled together, fast asleep. Akashi lay between Khadijat and Amira, their faces peaceful. Hakimi bent down and kissed their foreheads. "I’m sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

The walls of the house felt like they were closing in on him. He couldn’t stay. The guilt was suffocating. Opening the front door, he stepped into the cool night air. The moon cast its light over the quiet streets as Hakimi walked, his feet carrying him toward a familiar yet uncertain destination.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hakimi stood at the entrance of a dilapidated building, the night air thick with smoke and dampness. His heart hammered in his chest. This wasn’t where he wanted to be, but desperation had led him here—to his estranged brother, Riqqo.

Inside, Riqqo lounged at a table, feet up, a cigarette dangling from his lips. His sharp eyes flicked to Hakimi as he entered, a slow, cruel smile spreading across his face.

“Well, well. My little brother,” Riqqo mocked, his voice oozing with malice. “What brings you to my den? I didn’t think you’d miss me.”

Hakimi’s throat was dry. “I need your help,” he forced out, voice tight. “I need a job.”

Riqqo chuckled, a harsh, mocking sound. “A job?” He threw his head back in laughter. “You must be joking.”

Hakimi clenched his fists, his anger simmering, but he didn’t speak. Riqqo’s laughter died, replaced by a dangerous edge as he leaned forward.

“The only reason I’m even letting you in is because you’re my brother,” Riqqo spat. “But don’t mistake my tolerance for weakness. Come in here again with such crap, and you’ll regret it.”

Hakimi stayed still, his gaze unwavering. The threat hung between them, but he didn’t flinch.

“I’m serious, Riqqo,” Hakimi said, voice steady but strained. “I lost my job. I need something. Anything. I can’t stand by while my family suffers.”

Riqqo’s amusement faded, replaced by irritation. “I told you to leave! he snapped, voice rising. Get out!”

Hakimi didn’t budge, his eyes locked on Riqqo’s. For a long moment, their silence spoke volumes. Then, Riqqo’s anger softened, replaced by something like grudging acknowledgment.

“You serious?” Riqqo asked, voice quieter now.

Hakimi’s expression was grim. “Dead serious.”

Riqqo leaned back, eyeing him like a puzzle. “I didn’t think it would come to this. Here, sit.” He motioned to a chair, his tone now tinged with something almost… human.

But Hakimi wasn’t ready to settle. “Not until my request is accepted.”

Riqqo’s cold eyes narrowed, scanning him. Then, his lips curled into something like sympathy. “I heard about your wife,” he said, his voice low. “I’m sorry.” For once, his face showed a flicker of something genuine.

Hakimi stepped forward, his shoulders tight. “It happened,” he said, shrugging it off.

Riqqo shook his head slowly. “So, Hakimi, the ‘honest man,’ is asking me for help?” He smirked, his usual venom returning. “You want to work for me?”

Hakimi’s stomach twisted. He knew what Riqqo’s “business” was—drugs, arms, loansharking, illegal gambling. It was everything he’d sworn to avoid. But the thought of his family starving pushed aside any hesitation.

“I need to provide for my family,” Hakimi said, voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t let them suffer.”

Riqqo raised an eyebrow, watching him closely. “You know what kind of work I do, right?” He tapped his fingers on the table, eyes never leaving Hakimi. “You sure about this?”

“I won’t kill anyone,” Hakimi said through clenched teeth. “I won’t hurt anyone.”

Riqqo chuckled darkly. “And here I thought you were ready to dive in. One job, and you’d be set. But fine. You’re family. I won’t ask you to do anything you can’t handle.”

For a brief moment, Riqqo’s expression softened, almost as if there was a flicker of brotherly concern. “You really want to do this?”

Hakimi nodded. “Yes.”

Riqqo’s eyes were calculating. “This work means keeping secrets, Hakimi. Especially from your family. You understand that?”

Hakimi’s stomach churned, but his face remained neutral. “I’m ready.”

Riqqo studied him for a long moment, before standing up slowly, as if weighing the decision. “Leave now,” he said flatly. “Think about what you’re asking for. Come back next week—Monday, 10 p.m. sharp. If you’re still serious, I’ll have something for you.”

Hakimi’s heart hammered in his chest, but he nodded, his voice thick. “I’ll be there.”

As Riqqo turned to escort him out, his voice softened—almost sorrowful. “What happened to you, Hakimi?”

Hakimi froze. He didn’t have an answer, didn’t know what had led him here. What had driven him to sell his soul to the very man he’d sworn never to cross paths with again?

Riqqo’s voice was gentler now. “What pushed you to this point? You were always my innocent little brother. How did you end up here?”

Hakimi didn’t respond. His silence spoke volumes, and Riqqo, perhaps sensing the weight of his words, nodded slowly.

“Go home, Hakimi,” he said quietly. “You still have time to change your mind.”

Hakimi didn’t answer. He turned and left, the door creaking shut behind him. Outside, the night was still. But inside, a storm raged. He wasn’t sure how he’d survive the coming week, or if he had the strength to face his brother again. But one thing was clear: there was no turning back...