Empire: HAKEEM & SASHA

Chapter 21: The Lion's Den

Hakeem pulled up to Lucious' mansion, tires screeching as he parked haphazardly in the driveway.
His heart pounded in his chest, fueled by rage and adrenaline. He knew this was a trap, that Lucious would come at him hard for dropping that diss track. But Hakeem didn't care. He was done being manipulated, done playing the good son. If Lucious wanted a war, he was ready to give it to him.
He slammed the car door shut, fists clenched, and stormed toward the house. The front door was already open, a sure sign that Lucious was expecting him.
Inside, the mansion was eerily quiet.

Too quiet. The tension in the air was palpable, and Hakeem could feel it seeping into his bones. He entered the living room and found Lucious standing there, arms crossed, his back to him.
Lucious didn't turn around as Hakeem approached, his voice low and dangerous. "So, you think you bad now?"
Hakeem didn't answer. His jaw was clenched so tight he thought his teeth might crack. He wasn't here for Lucious' mind games.
"You make a song, embarrass me in front of the whole world," Lucious said, finally turning to face his son.

His eyes were cold, but there was a flicker of something darker underneath. "You think that makes you a man?"
Hakeem took a step closer, his fists trembling with anger. "You brought this on yourself, old man. You think you can control everything and everyone, but I'm not your puppet."
Lucious let out a dark chuckle, stepping toward Hakeem until they were inches apart. The tension between them was suffocating. "You think you're bad now? Fine. Let's see how bad you really are."
Suddenly, Lucious reached into his coat and pulled out a gun. The click of the safety being released echoed through the room, sending a chill down Hakeem's spine. Lucious held the gun out, offering it to Hakeem, a smirk curling on his lips. "You wanna be bad? You wanna prove you're not my puppet? Then shoot me. Right here. Right now."
Hakeem's eyes widened in shock. He stared at the gun, his breath catching in his throat. Lucious stepped even closer, pushing the gun into Hakeem's chest. "Go on. You've been talking all that big talk in your music, airing out our dirty laundry. You think you're tough? Prove it. Shoot me."
Hakeem's hand hovered over the gun, his mind spinning. He hated Lucious— more than he had ever hated anyone
—but could he really pull the trigger?
Could he really cross that line?
Lucious' smirk deepened. "What's the matter, Hakeem? Scared? You talk like you're a lion, but you still a cub. You don't have the balls to pull that trigger."
Hakeem's hand shook as he grabbed the gun. He raised it, pointing it at Lucious' chest, his heart racing. For a brief moment, he considered it-really considered it. All the pain, all the manipulation, all the lies could end right here. Right now.
But as he stared into his father's eyes, he saw something that stopped him cold. Lucious wanted him to do it.
He wanted Hakeem to lose control, to be like him. A cold-blooded killer.
Hakeem lowered the gun, his breathing ragged. "'m not like you," he said through gritted teeth. "I'm not a monster."
Lucious chuckled, shaking his head in disappointment. "I knew you didn't have it in you." He snatched the gun back, flicking the safety on with a practiced ease. "You talk big, but when it comes down to it, you're soft.
Just like your mother."
Hakeem's eyes burned with fury, but he didn't say anything. Lucious turned to leave, heading toward the front door. But just as he reached the threshold, he looked over his shoulder, a sinister smirk still on his face. "Don't worry, though. I got something for you."
Before Hakeem could process what he meant, the door slammed shut, and Lucious was gone.
Hakeem stood there, fists clenched, his mind reeling from the encounter.
He was about to leave when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned, but before he could react, a fist slammed into his gut, knocking the wind out of him. He staggered back, only to be met with another blow to his face.

Three men-hired thugs-surrounded him, fists flying as they beat him down. Hakeem tried to fight back, but he was outnumbered and outmatched. They weren't trying to kill him-just teach him a lesson. A brutal, painful lesson.
One of the thugs grabbed him by the collar and slammed him into the wall.
"Lucious sends his regards," the man sneered before throwing another punch to Hakeem's ribs.
Hakeem collapsed to the floor, groaning in pain. His face was bloodied, his body aching from the beating. The thugs stood over him for a moment, making sure the message had been delivered, before they turned and left, leaving him broken and bruised on the cold marble floor.
As Hakeem lay there, gasping for breath, he realized that this war with Lucious was far from over. In fact, it had only just begun.