CHAPTER 129: DINNER WITH DAD (3)

Nick’s POV

"I never promised anything. And if I did, I’m taking it back," I said, my voice calm, my tone sharp enough to slice through the tension. Cold. Final. I didn’t give a damn anymore.

They can call me a jerk, a womanizer, a man with no balls, for backing out of that marriage that I didn’t even agree to; I don’t care. Damn, I had endured worse titles and nicknames than that after going to prison.

It doesn’t matter to me anymore.

The only thing that matters to me is how Georgia sees me and what she thinks of me, and that’s it. Period.

"Nicholas!" My father’s roar cracked through the room like thunder.

Before I could snap back, Vicky slipped in, looping her arm through his like a lifeline. "How about we eat first? I’m starving, and I know everyone else is too. Maybe once we’ve actually got some food in us, we’ll think with our brains instead of our tempers." She tugged him toward the dining room with practiced sweetness.

She had a point. My stomach had been staging a rebellion since I skipped snacks, saving my appetite for this very dinner. And from the scent drifting out of the dining room, Isadora did her best.

She had been with the Knight family longer than I’d been alive, and one whiff of her cooking was enough to remind me why I never missed her meals.

Her cooking always lifts me out of sadness and whatever negative feelings I had when Vicky and I were still living in this house, and I am grateful to her for that.

Walking out crossed my mind, but then I thought of her glazed baby back ribs, shrimp scampi pasta, and egg tart. No way. Hunger was a powerful chain. And besides, I had a bigger reason to stay.

Tonight, I wanted to talk to my father, man-to-man, about finally taking his offer to step into the management. I’d made up my mind. But I sure as hell wasn’t about to let Sarah slither in and ruin it.

Everyone eventually took their places. My father claimed his throne at the head of the table, naturally, and right at his side sat Violet. At his left was Vicky, his favorite, his youngest, and the only girl among us. Of course, she reveled in it. She’s our favorite, too.

I slid into my chair between Vicky and Liam. Across from me was Reagan, our older brother, and sitting smugly at his side... Sarah. Just the sight of her there was enough to make my jaw tighten.

Liam, usually glued to Reagan’s side, had clearly chosen self-preservation tonight. He sat beside me instead, the human shield, because he knew damn well what could happen if I lost my temper. And trust me—when I explode, it isn’t a spectacle anyone enjoys.

Dinner began like any other—Vicky and Liam carrying the conversation with their usual effortless charm, tossing in witty remarks and updates about their companies to keep the atmosphere bright. It was the kind of forced cheer that only barely masked the tension straining beneath the surface.

My gaze swept the table, lingering on each reminder of my father’s empire. The Knight Group of Companies—his legacy, his obsession, his dream. Four pillars, four children.

Reagan leads the Knight Port Holdings, owning over five ports in the country as if he were king of the docks.

Second was the Knight Fleet Maritime, our fleet of cargo vessels sailing across oceans. It is currently in the hands of Violet’s nephew, and it was this company that my father offered to me. The very one my ship belonged to. The reason Violet wanted me back at sea.

Then there was Liam, running Knight Logistics & Freight Forwarding with steadiness. And finally, Vicky, with her sparkling smile and sharp mind, is reigning over Knight Marine Chandlers.

All of them were already carrying my father’s dream on their shoulders.

And then there was me—the prodigal son. The one who had walked away from the life he wanted for me. The one who had chosen freedom and salt in his lungs.

Until now.

We were only halfway through dinner when Reagan finally cracked, his patience thinner than the wine in his glass.

"So, Nick," he said, tone sharp, eyes gleaming like he’d been waiting to pounce, "what’s your plan now that you’ve lost your license?"

Violet jumped in before I could even blink. "Dear, he hasn’t lost it completely yet—there’s still a trial and—"

"And I’ll plead guilty," I cut her off coolly, not bothering to look up, just focusing on slicing the meat on my plate. Not caring about anything, just savoring the food.

"I think my blood pressure is going up..." my father muttered darkly, already imagining the things that I would do to ruin my life.

"Nick, don’t lose hope," Violet tried again, her voice trembling with earnestness. "Like I told you, I know someone who could help—"

I sliced through her words like I did the meat. "I didn’t lose hope. I don’t want it anymore. I want something else now." My tone carried the weight of a spoiled brat, but inside, I knew exactly what I was doing—I wanted to shake the ground beneath their feet.

Reagan leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "And what do you want?" He was wearing this smug expression, so sure of himself that whatever I would do next would just fail.

I let the silence stretch, then dropped the bomb with deliberate ease. "I want to settle on land. I want to join Knight Fleet Maritime... and take the CEO position."

The reaction was priceless. Violet’s jaw dropped so fast I thought it might dislocate, and Sarah—sitting smug just seconds ago—nearly choked on her wine. I bit down on my tongue to keep from laughing out loud.

Slowly, I turned to face my father, deliberately casual as if I hadn’t just flipped the table without touching it. "That’s okay with you, right, Dad? But if not..." I leaned back in my chair, smirking faintly, "I’d understand. I can always start my own business."