HANDS THAT HOLD
(Power, duty, and a son caught in between)
Shadow_vee
Orabella missed the bus by seconds.
She stood at the curb, watching it pull away, irritation flickering briefly before she sighed and stepped back. It wasn't worth the energy. There would be another one in ten minutes, and she had learned long ago that small delays weren't worth stressing over.
She adjusted the strap of her bag and glanced around, taking in the late afternoon bustle vendors closing up, students arguing softly while walking, the city easing into evening. This was her rhythm not grand,just steady.
When the next bus came, she took a seat by the window, pulling out a notebook and flipping through pages filled with half-finished sketches and ideas she hadn't yet decided were worth keeping. She paused at one, then shut the book.
Not today.
By the time she reached her stop, the sky had softened.Orabella walked the familiar path home, her thoughts light, unburdened.
She had no idea that somewhere across the city, decisions had already been made that would redraw the lines of her life.
No idea that she was about to become a solution to someone else's problem and the person the beginning of hers.
She unlocked her door and stepped inside, setting her bag down with a quiet sense of finality. The evening stretched ahead of her, ordinary and undemanding.
Andre's study was exactly as Zepher remembered it orderly without being cold. The low shelves along the wall still held the odd collection of things his father never moved: framed sketches the children had drawn years ago, a small globe with a cracked stand, books Andre had not finished reading but insisted on keeping because one of them had gifted it to him.
Andre looked up when Zepher entered, his stern expression easing almost immediately.
"You brought it?"Andre said noting the covered thing he was holding
Zepher nodded. "Yeah. It's the piece we talked about the one I found at a private collection in Marrakesh. The artist said it was inspired by the city skyline, thought it might fit with the light by your window."
Andre nodded, rising from his chair to take it from him. His hands were careful, deliberate, the way they always were when his children brought him something that mattered.
His gaze lingered on the artwork anyone could tell he liked it,he was a lover of nice pieces and Zepher had turned into his plug
"By the window," Andre said finally. "indeed the light there is perfect."
Zepher nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips as he moved to place it. When he turned back, Andre was watching him with the same quiet attention he had always given them.
"I wanted to talk," Zepher said. "If that's okay."
Andre gestured to the chair opposite his desk. "Sit."
For a moment, they spoke of nothing important travel delays, a gallery Zepher planned to visit next, the city's restlessness. Andre listened, occasionally nodding, asking questions that showed he had been paying attention long before this conversation.
Then Zepher leaned back, his tone shifting.
"Dad… is your decision final?"
Andre didn't answer immediately.
"As long as Damien does what I say," he replied at last.
Zepher exhaled slowly. "Who is the girl?"
A pause.
"Which family is she from?"
Andre's gaze dropped briefly to the desk before lifting again.
"I know and hear of Damien's escapades," he said calmly, "even though he tries so hard to hide them he might think people don't see it." His eyes hardened slightly. "I have a hand in the dark that keeps tongues from wagging he thinks it's the nonsense he covers up."
Zepher straightened.
"This family has integrity," Andre continued. "I can't sit and watch him destroy his future or his standing in the system."
Silence stretched between them.
Then Andre leaned back, his voice lowering.
"It was around that time," he said, "when Damien and I went hiking at the mountains. We never took security didn't need it or do I thought." His jaw tightened. "On one of our trips we were attacked a man saved my life, he stayed till we got better even went as far as clearing the bills I found out later when I wanted to pay."
Zepher listened closely.
"I offered him to repay him with money he refused," Andre said. "So I promised him something stronger a bond between both families one that couldn't be broken."
Zepher's brows furrowed. "Marriage."
Andre nodded. "Now Damien refuses."
"I'm worried," Zepher said carefully. "If he eventually succumbs, the way he might see the girl… he could resent her. Hate her. What if he treats her badly?"
Andre's eyes flicked to the window, then back to his son.
"Not under my watch,we both owe that man our lives," Andre said quietly, his eyes fixed on some point beyond the room.
"I can't have peace knowing there's an unfulfilled promise out there. Recently, I've sent people to try to find him. It's difficult, but eventually they will. By then… hopefully Damien concedes. If not…" His voice hardened, the softness he showed his son vanishing entirely. "I know how to frustrate him further."
He said the last sentence with firm resolve, a weight in the room that needed no explanation.
Zepher stared at him, understanding that there was nothing he could say to change his father's mind. He sank back in his chair, mind racing.
"Where the hell is Damien?"he thought