Caleb's POV

Ghana... my homeland. How many years has it been since I last set foot here? Ten years, exactly. Ten long years since I turned my back on this country—on my family. I swore I’d never return. This country stole my life, took everything from me. Just breathing its air again makes me nauseous.

And yet, my mother’s words echo in my mind—acidic and burning.

"You want to leave? Fine, then go. You’re useless anyway. You’ve never been good for anything in this house. And if you think I’ll give you a single cent of the family inheritance, you’re dead wrong. I would never risk handing our fortune to a good-for-nothing like you."

Those words broke me. Forever. Just thinking about them makes my fists clench, my nails digging into my flesh.

A tap on my shoulder jerks me back to the present.

"You should relax, Caleb… You’re too tense."

"You know my story, John. You know how much I hate this country. So why the hell did you lie to me? Why did you bring me here?" I snapped, fists still clenched.

"Look, I got tired of hearing you talk about your dad with that sad look in your eyes. And since I had a commercial shoot to do here, I figured this trip might do you some good."

"This is a terrible idea. Go to your shoot. I’m heading back to Europe."

"Caleb—"

"I have no desire to see a single member of my family. So don’t insist."

I turned on my heel and headed to the hotel lobby to book a flight home.

"Alright, I’m sorry… But since you’re already here, at least take the time to leave some flowers on your father’s grave."

I froze. My father… My heart clenched. I wanted to see him, but I couldn’t. I shouldn’t. The memories might swallow me whole.

"Go see him. Talk to him. Then leave if you want. I told you—I won’t stop you."

The urge prickled in my chest. I turned back around, walking past John at the entrance. He chuckled.

"Just the flowers, then I’m out of here."

"Okay. Let’s just hope some pretty Ghanaian ass doesn’t make you stay."

"That’s never going to happen. The woman who can boss me around hasn’t been born yet. And probably never will," I replied, getting into the car John had rented. He climbed in, handed the address to the driver, and we drove off.

"So, you’re never getting married?"

"Why settle for just one pair of pretty legs when there are so many out there—with all kinds of talents?"

"Seriously… doesn’t that lifestyle exhaust you? You're all over the place."

"Nope," I answered with a smirk.

"You need to stop playing with women, Caleb… and treating them like garbage."

"They are garbage."

"Stop punishing all women for what ONE did to you."

"Don’t bring that up," I replied sharply.

"I really hope you meet a woman who turns your bad-boy act upside down."

I smiled. That’ll never happen. Women are just for pleasure. Nothing more. You fuck, you come, you move on. Feelings are for the weak. And I am not weak.

"Here we are. So, what do you think of my house?" he asked as he paid the driver.

"It’s… wow. If the outside’s this nice, I can only imagine the inside..."

"Come on, don’t just stand there. Let’s go in."

"No, you go ahead. Join your family. I’m going to get flowers for my father."

"My family doesn’t bite, Caleb. Come meet them, and then go get the flowers. Please..."

"Fine. But no more than five minutes."

He nodded. We stepped into the house, greeted by shouts of joy. His parents lit up at the sight of him. His mom wouldn’t let go of her “little boy,” as she called him. He smiled, even if it was fake. I chuckled from my corner.

Looking away from John, I saw her.

A young woman came rushing down the stairs, wearing a floral dress that hugged every curve. She threw herself into John's arms. My eyes stayed glued to her body. She had exactly the kind of figure that drove me crazy.

But the spark of excitement died as soon as she called him “big brother.”

Shit.

The bro code is crystal clear: hands off your friends’ sisters. That girl is off-limits.

John introduced me to his family, and they insisted we stay for a bite. I hung back a little, watching them. Why didn’t I ever get this? A mother’s love? Isn’t a mother supposed to love her son? Mine never gave me anything but rejection. Everything for Alex. Nothing for me.

I swallowed my rage. Again.

"Hi! You must be Caleb, my brother’s best friend? I’m Anabella."

I smiled and took her offered hand.

"Nice to meet you, Anabella. Has anyone ever told you you’re stunning?"

"No… this is the first time," she replied with a smile, still holding my hand.

A throat cleared behind me, making me let go. I didn’t even have to turn to know who it was.

"So, I see you’ve already met?"

"Yeah. We just introduced ourselves. I was telling her how stunning she looked. Especially in that dress—it fits her perfectly."

I didn’t take my eyes off Anabella. Her smile, her grace… everything about her threw me off.

Damn it, why does she have to be his sister?

I could already tell—I was going to regret this pact.

"Hey! I’m talking to you!"

"Sorry… I was lost in thought."

"Yeah, I bet… Anabella, could you go help Mom clear the table?"

"Okay. See you later, Caleb," she said, waving as she left.

"And our pact? Already forgotten?" John growled.

"If you’re worried I’ll sleep with her, relax. You know me—I’m a man of my word. Now come say goodbye to your parents. I need to go see my father."