As I stared at my father's grave, dark memories burned my face with tears. My soul was yearning for a tiny light. My mind was shrieking for nourishment. The pain wasn't easy to burry. My father was the best piece in my life. He was my pattern. My mother? Unverified. I grew up without one. She died in a car accident when I was only six years old. Her absence was young and cold. Her love was dark as charcoal.

I was just a mistake in her eyes according to my dear father. She always fancied a girl. She never loved me. She never took care of me as a young immature boy. She vanished without telling me she admired me for the first time. My life was tawdry in her eyes. She poisoned my heart with hatred. She made me realize that women were cheap osseins. They had no value in my devil eyes. They were all entertainments, instruments of lies, and betrayals.

"Mr. Wale?" My lawyer pursued my thoughts away. "I know this is not a good time but I tried to contact---"

"Get to the point!" My words were cold as winter. My tolerance was running out of time.

"I wanted you to take a look at your father's will before he passed away. May he rest in peace."He handed me a folder with business papers. "As you can see, he had a lot of money in stock. He earned billions. He wanted you to have it all but..." His face questioned his own fears.

"But?" My eyebrows disagreed with his tone.

"But you'll have to wait when you're twenty-one." My eyes begged for answers. "Are you familiar with Mr. Dean Brown?" His question buried my thoughts with a simple memory of this name.

"Yes, I am," I replied. "He used to come to my house. My father's best friend, his right hand. What does he have to do with my situation?" I asked, disoriented.

"You're in danger. People are after you now. They assassinated your father to gain your new billions." His sentence made me uncomfortable by reminding me of my father's tragedy. "The best thing you need to do now is to live with Mr. Dean Brown. He'll teach you how to manage your father's company. In the meantime, you'll adapt to your new life as a billionaire and take custody after your father."

"Why should I trust him?" I questioned his loyalty. "I can't trust anyone. I don't want to live with anyone. I can afford my own house. I don't need his pity." I threw the folder as the papers flew in the air. "I want to be alone. Leave! Please." I yelled, furiously.

"You need to understand that you're in trouble. You need to do what's right." He implied, sadly as he picked up the papers, one by one, off the floor.

"Who are you to tell me what's right or wrong? I'm not going to repeat myself, Mr. Jason. I want you to leave me alone. I'm not interested. I don't want to take this deal. Mr. Dean can take all my father's billions but I don't want to be a part of his life." I yelled as tears greeted my eyes, unexpectedly. "Have some respect. I'm in front of my father's grave. Can he just rest in peace?" I begged, sharply.

"I apologize, Mr. Wale." He paused. "I lost my son three years ago. I understand your pain but you can't deny your own future. He wanted you to look after him. He was a great man, I'm sure all he wanted was for you to be successful. He loved you." He placed his hand on my right shoulder as he continued. "I'm sorry. Think about it. This is what he would want." His presence faded behind me as my pain increased more at that moment.

"Hand me the folder." I changed my mind. "I'm sorry for your loss." He nodded as he walked away with a desperate look.

Pain flashed my heart with a sharp rain. Thunders of hurt were watering my brain with emptiness. I was once my father's favorite kid. I was his only hope. I was the key to his heart. I was his light, he was my shadow.

Money couldn't bring him back to me. My pain was getting deeper. My life was meaningless.

Father, I'm alone. Please, come back to me. I want you to tell me all your funny stories. I want to go back to when I was younger so I could just hear your voice telling me to stop running in the living room while you're working in your office. I want you to tell me that you're the only one who loved me. My mother never did, father. You taught me to be a man. You taught me how to be patient, You taught me how to control my pain but I still can't. You're gone, Father.

Please, Guide me. I'm all alone.

"May you rest in peace, Father." I kissed the grave as I walked away from my only hope. "I love you, dad."

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Weeks flew by quickly. I was trying to fight my pain like a strong man. It wasn't easy but I tried to understand that my life was still on the line and I had to step up to be successful just like my father. His company wanted a new chairman. I wanted to be ready and make him proud.

I knew it wasn't going to be easy but I wanted to be strong and learn how to deal with my new life.

"This is my house, Hawk." Mr. Dean Brown played a smile on his face as he helped me with my suitcases. "This is your house now." He handed me the key as we entered the house, rapidly.

"Thank you, Mr. Dean." I thanked him as his wife shared a motherly hug with me.

"Hawk. You're so handsome and tall." His wife, Maria, complimented. "I want you to feel like home. Your father was a great..." She paused as I swallowed my saliva, sadly. "I'm so happy that you're here." She changed the subject as soon as she suspected that she was going to cause me more pain.

"Thank you." I faked a smile.

The flavor of their smile was toxic. The pity in their eyes was obvious and uncomfortable. They were trying their best to make me feel at home but I knew that I wasn't really home. I wasn't really ready for a new life. I just wanted to get myself ready and move on with my life. I wanted this to end. This pain.

Mr. Dean's wife, Maria, was just pretending that my situation was fine. Her eyes explained a lot. She didn't want me to notice that I was just that poor kid that his mother never wanted.

was just a silly joke.

"Have you met my daughter, Hazel?" Mr. Dean washed my messy mind away.

"No," I replied, truthfully. "I didn't know you had a daughter."

"Yes, she's about your age." He beamed. "Twenty." He proceeded. "Speaking of the angel. Meet my daughter, Hazel Brown."

As soon as I turned around, my jaw dropped from a distance. Her beautiful self screamed and begged my eyes to stop staring. The temperature of her beauty was heating me up, dangerously. Her perfect long black hair was like Cinderella's. Except it wasn't blonde but long. Her pink lips were tempting. Her golden skin was navigating in my boat of pleasure. Her eyes were like stars of Paradise.

was her name. I wanted to misuse her with my dirty fabrications.

"You're missing a button," I whispered in her ear as I gave her a hungry hug