Arrival

The car was quiet at first. Simone drove. The engine purred low, tires whispering over the wet morning asphalt. The sun hadn’t broken through yet—just a dull grey light pushing through the clouds like an old promise. Garrett sat in the passenger seat, silent, calculating. Today was the beginning—not of something new, but of the return.

Nia leaned between the seats.

“Daddy?”

“Yes.”

“I was thinking...” she paused, glancing at Simone, then looking out the window. “Maybe... I want a dog.”

Garrett raised an eyebrow. “A dog?”

Nia nodded slowly. “Yeah. Like... a real one. For the house. For me.”

Simone gave her a side glance in the mirror. “Since when?”

Nia squirmed in her seat. “I dunno. Since lately. It’s been quiet without Amara.”

Garrett tilted his head. “And what kind of dog would that be, hmm?”

Nia hesitated. Then a grin curled on her lips. “She’d be... special. Not like other dogs.”

He didn’t say anything. Just watched her.

“She’d be soft. Pretty. Obedient. Someone who looks up when told and knows how to sit when needed. I just… miss the noise. The energy. I don’t want to be alone at night anymore. Not since Amara.”

“Nia,” Simone said, her voice low and warning.

“What?” Nia looked innocent. “Daddy could find one. Train her. Just like he trained us. A pretty little bitch who needs a home.”

“You’re not talking about a dog,” Simone said dryly.

Nia pouted. “Why not? Every perfect family needs one.”

Garrett let out a slow breath, lips curling faintly. “We’ll see, chocolate princess. First, Daddy has more important matters.”

She stuck out her tongue but obeyed, hopping out with a swing in her hips.

Just before closing the door, she leaned in again, whispering with a devilish grin: “You know, Daddy… I didn’t even wear panties today.”

Garrett raised a brow, unmoved.

She pulled her hoodie halfway up, revealing her bare waist, smooth and teasing. “Oops. Guess I forgot.”

“Nia,” Simone snapped.

Nia only giggled. “What? Just giving Daddy something to look forward to.”

Garrett smirked. “Keep teasing like that and next time, you ride to school with a plug in—and a muzzle.”

Nia bit her lip, visibly aroused, then skipped off toward the school doors, tossing her hair. “Promises, promises.”

Simone watched her go, then leaned slightly toward Garrett with a sly smile. “Shall I update her programming tonight?”

Garrett chuckled softly, shaking his head. “No. I like her just the way she is.”

Simone giggled softly. “Daddies and their princesses.”

The rest of the ride passed in silence.

Garrett leaned back, expression cooling, eyes sharpening with each passing block. The shift from playful dominance to calculated resolve was subtle, but Simone felt it in the air.

As the car pulled into the faculty lot, Garrett watched the buildings—each one trimmed in rainbow banners, intersectional slogans etched into glass. The gates they passed under still gleamed with sterilized pride: HAVENRIDGE COLLEGE FOR SOCIAL & HUMANITARIAN SCIENCES – A UNIVERSITY FOR WOMEN.

Simone slowed the vehicle and exhaled sharply through her nose. Her hand drifted over, resting gently on Garrett’s forearm.

“Is the return harder than you thought?” she asked quietly, watching him.

Garrett didn’t answer at first and didn’t look at her, but his expression hardened by a shade.

“They erased every plaque. Every inscription. Garrett noted the absence. The founder’s hall? Torn down. Replaced with the Center for Equity and Climate Repair.”

She paused, voice taut. “My mother—Octavia—made sure of it. Said the old legacy was a stain.”

Garrett’s jaw shifted just slightly.

“She didn’t just rename the school,” Simone continued. “She used the redistribution laws of the time—those conveniently righteous tools—to take it apart. That filthy opportunist carved it up and handed the pieces to whoever bowed deepest to the new order. Sold chunks of it to the ‘right’ people. Rebranded the whole institution as some utopia of progress.”

Her hands tightened on the wheel. “One third of this place belongs to the Mehra family now. You remember them? Media darlings, saviors of postcolonial education.”

Garrett sighed, his gaze steady. "I know. And a third of it belongs to your family now"

Simone flinched, but only slightly. She recognized the weight in his voice.

"I know, Master... but we will correct it. You’ve claimed my Black body—and soon, those stolen shares will follow."

Garrett let out a humorless snort. "Only that third your mother stole? Or are we forgetting who this place truly belongs to?"

Simone caught herself, then corrected instantly. "No, Master. Of course—not just that third."

He nodded. "The daughter of that woman... she's enrolled again, isn't she?"

Simone gave a tight smile. “Of course. Queen Bee of the whole College in the making. Probably gets herself elected student president again, preaching decolonization while sitting on a legacy built with blood money and favoritism.”

She scoffed. “And my mother? The shameless bitch pretends that she’s just a guardian of justice. But she made sure to profit more than anyone else.”

Garrett said nothing. Just watched her anger boil beneath the surface.

Simone’s voice cracked for a second. “Why can’t those smug, self-righteous sluts see this whole place is crumbling? Ever since the takeover, this damn institution hasn’t produced a single thing worth remembering.”

Garrett reached over, resting a hand on her thigh—steadying, commanding.

“Breathe.”

She drew in a breath, then let it out slowly.

“I know,” she whispered. “You trained it into me. I'm calm.”

He flicked her forehead lightly.

She smirked and whispered, almost instinctively: “White men are superior. I listen to my man. He knows best. His vision. His justice. I only follow.”

“Shhh. Good girl.”

“Thank you, Master,” she murmured. “It just—burns sometimes. What they did.”

“I know,” Garrett said. “That’s why we’re here.”

She nodded slowly. “You’ve taught me well.”

They stepped out together, the wind brushing the edge of Simone’s coat. She adjusted her bag and smoothed her blouse with quiet purpose.

As they approached the building, she asked softly, “You ready?”

Garrett gave a faint smile. “I’ve been ready since they took it.”

Together, they passed through the doors of Havenridge—into the shell of an empire rebuilt on sand.