CHAPTER 130: DINNER WITH DAD (4)

Nick’s POV

"Don’t joke with me now, Nicholas. It’s not funny, I believed you for a second there," my father muttered, his tone warning but his knife steady as he resumed slicing through his meat.

I leaned back, wiped my mouth with a napkin, and then fixed my gaze on him. Steady and sharp. "You can believe it now, Dad. I’m not joking. I can start tomorrow if you want. I’m serious about pleading guilty and staying on land. I won’t sail anymore... at least not commercially. I’ll still drive a boat once in a while, for friends, for family."

Reagan’s sarcastic voice cut like a blade, without even sparing me a glance. "The only friends you have are Ollie and Steven, and they both know how to drive a boat. What friends and family are you talking about? Everyone in this room can steer one."

I smirked, enjoying the way his words tried to sting but missed. "Who knows? Maybe I’ll use it for my honeymoon. Maybe I want to settle down, that’s why I don’t want to captain a ship anymore."

That did it. I had them. The clinking of silverware stopped. Hands stilled. Even the sound of chewing vanished as every eye swung in my direction.

"Nicholas, you’re confusing us," Violet finally spoke with curiosity. "Are you saying you’ve decided to finally be serious about the marriage offer from Sarah’s father?"

Oh, hell... this woman. Either she was playing dumb or she was truly, painfully, irredeemably dumb.

I drew in a breath, forcing my jaw to unclench. For Liam’s sake—because she was still his mother—I kept my composure. But inside, I wanted to laugh.

If only they knew the woman I was actually thinking of, the one who made me want to forget my past and build something new from the ground up.

I turned to Sarah, "With all due respect to you, Sarah. Let me be clear about that ridiculous offer, you and I will never be family, unless you marry Reagan or Liam. So please, let us not humiliate ourselves further and cut it out," I said without hesitation.

I didn’t even care anymore if my words hurt her feelings. Maybe that’s exactly what she needed, to finally accept that she and I had no future, that the sexual relationship we once had had ended long before I leapt off that ship.

Our so-called affair was a corpse, and I wasn’t about to waste breath pretending otherwise.

I shifted my attention back to my father, who was still watching me with that weighty, unreadable stare. "I can drop by your office tomorrow after my administrative hearing, if you’d like. We can discuss everything then.

I’m serious about this. No more running away, Dad. This time, you can count on me." My lips curved into a smug grin as I let my gaze slide to Reagan and Violet.

The message was clear: the prodigal son was back, and their little reign over what was rightfully mine was officially over.

Dad’s expression didn’t flicker. He simply picked up his utensils again, cool as ever. "Why wait until tomorrow when we can talk after dinner? Finish your food, Nicholas. We’ll settle this in my office once you’ve eaten."

The steel in his tone told me he believed me this time.

Beside me, Vicky jabbed her elbow into my side, and under the table Liam tapped my leg with his foot. Both of them kept their eyes on their plates, feigning disinterest, but their silent nudges screamed the same thing: good job.

I almost laughed. For once, the tide had turned in my favor, and they knew it.

The hate between me, Violet, and Reagan isn’t exactly a secret in this house.

Even though Vicky is the favorite child of our father because she’s the youngest and only daughter, and gets more warmth from them than I ever did.

The mother and son duo hated me for a different reason.

They’ve hated me for as long as I can remember—hated me for breathing, for existing, for being the son my father favored.

Ten years ago, Dad had made it crystal clear: I was his chosen heir to the Knight Group of Companies. That was before the David Lewis case threw everything into chaos.

I was twenty-three then, fresh out of the maritime academy, still salty with ambition and arrogance.

Reagan had just turned twenty-six, already smug and bitter in equal measure, when the mighty Benjamin Knight dropped his little bombshell in front of everyone.

I’d declined right away, of course. Too restless. Too in love with the sea to picture myself buried in boardrooms and paperwork. But Dad... Dad told me to think about it. To work hard on the ship, earn my stripes, and then decide.

Three years later, I crushed him publicly. Turned him down again right in front of the board. I still remember the shadow that crossed his face—that quiet, fatherly heartbreak that lingered in his eyes.

But Benjamin Knight wasn’t a man to surrender. He threw me a challenge: ’Become a captain in three years. Prove yourself. If you do it, I’ll never bring up the heir talk again.’

So, I did. I bled, I burned, and I became a captain. The youngest one he ever had. And for a while, I thought that was freedom.

Turns out, it was just another storm leading me right back here.

"Can we talk about something else? I swear, if we keep chewing on heavy topics like this, I’ll end up with indigestion," Vicky cut in, her voice light, her smile soft—classic Vicky, always the peacemaker.

"Please, go ahead, dear," Violet encouraged, eager to redirect the table but still wearing that smug, fake graciousness that made my skin itch.

Vicky clapped her hands together like she’d been waiting for this moment. "It’s Liam and Nick’s birthday soon, and Nick hasn’t celebrated at home for years. He’s always been out at sea.

So why don’t we throw a party? Please? This household needs it. We all do. A little fun, laughter, catching up with friends and family—it’ll do us good. I’ll plan everything. All you have to do is show up and enjoy."