Chapter 5- The Blacks

The Black mansion was full of people like every day. The estate never saw a dull day with servants running everywhere and people coming to Charles for help. People would line up before him for favors since Charles put on a good show for the public. Nobody knew what was happening under the wraps.

Azazel woke up in his thoughts; ever since he returned from the trip, his thoughts were full of her. Little Athena occupied his mind like a plague, and he needed to find her if he wanted to be sane. He walked to his father’s study. “Dad,” he called him. A sharp noise caught Azazel’s attention; Charles dropped the cup of coffee he held in his hand; he was shocked to hear his son call him. His son hadn’t spoken to anyone in 6 years, not even a word or a bit of anything. He closed himself off and shut his family off like they were carrying a disease. He would communicate through writing. He would only come out of his room for training sessions and fights.

They took him to several counseling sessions, but no doctor helped him. Charles and Olivia had spent thousands of dollars on speech therapies and tests. Initially, they thought something was wrong with his throat, maybe an injury or some kind of infection, but all the tests returned negative.

Not even a single doctor worldwide could bring out the words in him. They weren’t even close to figuring out the cause of his muteness. Ultimately, they concluded that there was nothing wrong with his throat, that his ability not to speak was related to his mind, not to his throat. The doctors gave up trying to get him to speak, and they concluded that he was selectively mute and concluded that he would talk when he felt like it or when his anxiety reduced.

His parents, friends, and even his siblings tried to get him to say something but to no avail. He would be quiet with zero response.

“Azazel?” his father walked over to Azazel, hugging him tight in happiness. His eyes reddened with tears. He couldn’t believe his son had spoken after a really long time.

“Olivia” he yelled. Olivia, Tristan, and Narcissa came running into their father’s steady. “What happened, Dad?” Azazel spoke, stunning everyone around him. They seemed lost for words. One by one, they hugged him tightly, feeling happiness surging through their veins. All these years were painful for the family as well. They didn’t sleep a wink as they couldn’t figure out what was wrong with him. His selective mutism stole nights from them.

“Mom?” Azazel called Olivia. She ran to him in one lunge and held Azazel’s cheeks.

“You finally decided to speak, son?” she was tearing up. He just nodded.

“I just” he was about to say something but stopped. “I don’t want to speak, mom,” he stopped at that.

“I just thought I would” he found it difficult to form words; he thought that after meeting Athena, he would be able to talk clearly, he felt his words would surface without bounds, but when it came to speaking, he couldn’t. His speech was still haltered, and his mind was still chaotic. “Perhaps, only she brings out the best in you,” Azazel’s inner self reasoned with him.

“Brother,” Tristan hugged him tightly, “I was waiting for this moment again. You have no idea how hard it was for us to see you like that,” he teared up. Azazel wanted to say something, but again he couldn’t form words.

He wanted to ask his dad to find his little doll, but with his family around him, he couldn’t ask a thing; he wanted them to leave to talk to his father. But they transfixed themselves, waiting for Azazel to speak further. Seeing that he wasn’t saying a word, they left the room to give him some space.

“What is it, Son?” Charles motioned Azazel to sit in the chair before him. Azazel fumbled with his fingers. His anxiety was crippling at times. He closed his eyes and remembered her breathtaking smile. He slowly opened his eyes.

“I want a doll, dad,” Azazel blurted out, stunning Charles. “A doll?” Charles’s expression marred confusion and distaste for Azazel’s words.

“Yes, dad, a doll. Not any ordinary doll. A doll with purple eyes, dark hair, and a beautiful smile” Azazel remembered every single feature of her face.

“What is with this doll? You are a man Azazel. What are you going to do with a doll? I thought you would be asking for a gun or arsenal” Charles couldn’t believe his son was asking for a fucking doll.

“I want this doll, dad,” he reaffirmed again. Charles sighed in defeat.

“Well, I suppose we could ask Narcissa’s toy maker to make one for you” Charles sat back on his desk chair, calling Narcissa’s toy maker.

“No” Azazel yelled.

Charles put his phone down. “You can’t get this doll in the market. This is a human doll”, Azazel yelled in frustration. “This is a human doll,” he repeated.

“Huh? I don’t understand a single thing. A human doll?” Charles wasn’t sure what Azazel was implying. Azazel inhaled a deep breath, calming himself down because his thoughts were making him restless and anxious, and he was rattled and unable to control his emotions.

“I saw a girl in Greece; I want her” Azazel started pacing back and forth to compose himself.

“Well, what is her name then?” Charles was not okay that the first thing his son asked after not speaking for a long time was about a girl. But he didn’t say that to his son, as he might lose his voice again, this time maybe forever; his elective muteness had already started to spark a debate in his world. He dismissed them as rumors; the families of the underworld didn’t want someone who couldn’t speak to be the head of their domain.

“I don’t know her name, dad, but I want her,” Azazel passed an ultimatum.

Charles sighed, “Fine, son, I will see what I can do” Charles smiled and hugged him. Azazel’s happiness knew no bounds. He was still beaming when they heard a voice.

“Daddy,” Narcissa jumped into her father’s lap, hugging her father and brother tightly.

“Zae, you speak,” Narcissa chirped.

He chuckled, “I think so” Azazel ruffled Narcissa’s hair. Narcissa was their darling daughter, whom the brothers immensely loved and adored; they wouldn’t let a single scratch fall on her body. She was Charles’s princess. Most families saw daughters as liability, but Charles saw her as a harbinger of luck; he loved her and would do anything for her. The last nine years were nothing but lucky—Narcissa’s birth brought them happiness, both in business and the mafia.

“Let’s go have something,” Charles carried his little girl to the table, taking Azazel with them. Olivia came in, serving the dishes. She would kiss Azazel on his cheeks occasionally. The light on her face was bright and visible now that her son had begun to return to normal.

“Blanche called; she asked us to come over for dinner tomorrow night; they are organizing a party for Sophie’s birthday,” she filled each of their plates with food.

“Sure, we can all go. I am sure Azazel and Tristan would get to spend some time with Arthur” Charles smiled, looking at his son. He also wanted to debunk doubts the mafia world had regarding Azazel’s muteness. Charles knew Azazel had it in him; he had seen since Azazel was nine that he was very assertive and authoritative. He was proud of Azazel and the efforts he put into his training. How he aced, all his tests proved that Azazel would be the one taking over his empire from him.

Azazel said nothing, “Son,” Olivia called, looking hopeful.

“Yes, mom, I will go” Azazel fisted his thigh underneath the table and spoke. He was getting a grip on controlling his anxiety.

The following day they all got ready to visit the Dubois’ mansion. Azazel was nervous, digging his nails into his thighs to get a hold of himself. He is still not okay with being with people, but this must be done if he wants to make his father proud. He has to change if he wants to care for his brother and little sister.

The Dubois mansion was decorated beautifully. Rupert and Blanche did not spare any costs in making their mansion look regal. Azazel walked in with his brother and sister on the side. Rupert walked to the entrance greeting Olivia and Charles.

“You spared no expense, did you, Rupert?” Charles shook Rupert’s hands.

“Anything for our little princess,” Rupert returned the handshake. And as a cue, Sophie ran to her father’s side, hugging his legs and eyeing Azazel shyly. At the same time, Azazel showed no effort toward Sophie because his gaze was stuck on someone behind them.

He couldn’t believe his eyes. There his doll was, helping someone with a little kid in her hands; he wondered how she ended up there. He was looking at her, and her only oblivious to his father’s eyes on him.

Charles followed Azazel’s eyes, seeing a girl. “Who is that little girl?” Charles asked Rupert. Everyone turned their eyes toward Athena.

Blanche fumbled, “she is my sister’s daughter, they recently died in an accident, so I am taking care of her,” Blanche clung to Rupert’s arms.

“I see” Charles understood that this was the girl Azazel was talking about.

Athena was put on party duty today; she arranged everything for Sophie’s birthday, anything she could contribute. She didn’t want to have food without working.

Azazel walked over to Athena, with Sophie behind him nagging and bugging him, but before he could reach her, Tristan introduced himself to Athena, “Hi, I am Tristan; you wanna be my friend?” Tristan asked the unsure Athena.

But the girl being friendliest of all, responded, “I am Athena, and yes, I will be your friend,” she introduced herself, smiling at Tristan.

Azazel fisted his hands to the side. But he didn’t say anything because Tristan was his little brother. He didn’t like that she was smiling at someone other than him; her smile should be only for him and him only. Tristan was smiling at Athena when a furious Azazel ran behind him. His jealousy replaced his obsession for her, “Why are you talking to her?” he yanked Tristan back. “We don’t talk to maids and orphans” Azazel purposefully hit her where it hurt.

Athena, who was lost talking to Tristan, didn’t notice when Azazel came by. She remembered the boy from that place. She thought he was supposed to be sweet, but why was he angry now? The little one had no clue. She never imagined he would say hurtful words to her; she felt sad, but wasn’t it the truth? She is an orphan. She is standing in her family members’ house, yet she is an orphan.

Tristan pouted, “Don’t be mean, brother, she is nice” Tristan touched Athena’s dark hair.

This made Azazel growl, “Don’t touch her; she is in maid’s uniform” Azazel started dragging Tristan away.

"I am old enough to decide for myself, brother” Tristan pulled his arm out of Azazel’s hold.

“It’s okay, Tristan, go with your brother,” Athena said, trying to hold herself back from her tears. Azazel was stunned to hear her response. He felt terrible for insulting her but seeing his brother talking to Athena made him angry; jealousy took over, and his mouth wasn’t in control. At that moment, his anxiety and nervousness all took the back burner, bringing the envy out; if someone else had been in his brother’s position, he would’ve killed them.

“You are mean,” Narcissa pushed Azazel behind, “she is my friend from today” she stood in support of Athena. “You won’t talk to her like that,” she folded her hands, standing as a shield before Athena. Seeing the entire little village gang up on him, Azazel left that spot, seething.

He ran to his dad, “I wanna talk to you, dad,” Azazel said. His business associates locked eyes with Azazel, and he stood firm, eliminating doubts about his muteness.

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” Charles followed his son.

“What is it, son?” Charles asked Azazel.

“My doll from Greece is here; she is the one Blanche told you about,” he said, wiping his tears.

“Don’t cry, Son” Charles always forbode his sons from crying, asserting his views on toxic masculinity.

“I want her; I want my doll; she made me talk; I only talked because of her” he tossed a chair next to him on the ground, breaking it into million pieces. His anger issues increased when he couldn’t speak.

“She is a fucking orphan son; she had nobody. You don’t even know what kind of father she had or what blood is running down her veins. How the fuck can she be your queen? I want someone as flawless as you to be with you. I want your wife to have a name and position, not some nobody without parents and a single penny to her name. Besides, they plan to marry her to an old hag to save themselves when she is older”. Charles tried calming his son down.

“They only keep her for publicity and to win the elections.” He saw Azazel losing it. He cannot risk it now; he needs to be as strong as ever, especially when his enemies are charging at him for power, trying to trample him down. So, an evil plan formed in his mind to coax his son.

“Fine, son. You can have her when she is old enough for you, take her as your mistress, do whatever you want. It is not like there will be anyone to ask about her. You can do whatever you want with her”, Charles smirked.

“No, I want to marry her” Azazel’s determination knocked the socks off of Charles.

“Are you fucking crazy?” Charles yelled.

“Do I look like I am dad?” Azazel showed his cocky attitude challenging his father.

Charles rubbed his hand down his face trying to calm himself down. “Don’t give me that cocky attitude, Azazel” he wasn’t okay with the disrespect, and he already hated the girl. She was the reason his son was fighting with him. The son who always looked up to him was fighting with him for her.

“I will end her if you do it, son. I will take everything away from you, you will be a nobody, and I will kill Athena” Azazel’s jaw dropped to the floor. His anger simmered down like a stove switched off. He couldn’t believe that his father was threatening him.

“But, dad,” he tried to convince him.

“She is a fucking orphan, Azazel,” he yelled again. “I will not have you tarnish my family name by marrying a fucking nobody. What will the world say?” Charles’s anger was getting bigger by the second, and Azazel’s gaze dropped.

He sighed, “Be a good boy and do as I say. Maybe I will let you have her when you grow up,” Charles smirked. Azazel wasn’t sure what his dad meant, but he nodded in absentmindedness.

“You will marry the girl of my choice and keep that girl as a mistress or a side chick, whatever it is. But you need to keep her secret or do whatever you want with her,” he squeezed Azazel’s shoulders.

Azazel heard the answer he wanted; he was satisfied that she would be his. Little did he know how wrong Charles’s expectations would be; he underestimated his son’s obsessive desire for that orphan girl, unknowing that she would take his heart and kingdom, not as his queen, but as his king.