1. Ash
I heard that she officially got married the other day; Gianna. Some part of me hoped that she would call and take me up on my offer to run away, but she didn’t. And somewhere deep down, I knew she wouldn’t. But the bitter reality did nothing to dull the ache in my chest. It persists, a constant, throbbing pain that echoes with every beat of my heart. A reminder of what I have lost and what I will never have.
I don’t believe myself to be delusional. There was an unspoken energy between us, a spark that ignited with just a glance. And I knew she felt it too. It was palpable, like the electric current pulsing through my veins whenever she was near.
Even though it was months ago, I can still feel her lips on mine. The way our bodies connected was electric, and I could feel her desire for me just as strongly as my own. Her bodyguard, now her husband, had nearly torn me limb from limb, but it was worth it. She kissed me back; she gave me an ounce of hope.
After our kiss, the world around me had lost its color. And not long after, her father had extended an invitation to a dinner party - a desperate attempt to mend the fractured relationships between the most influential families in the city, ones that my brother had nearly burned to the ground.
I almost got down on my knees to beg her to leave with me that night. It didn’t matter that I was there with my new betrothed. I could have kept Gianna safe from the treacherous games our families were playing. I could have protected her; cared for her. But after seeing her with her bodyguard, I could see how happy she was. I could tell they were meant for one another, even if my heart was breaking.
At the mere thought of my brother, my heart throbs with an ache that lingers, an agony that defies words. We were never on the same page, our frayed relationship barely tethered by the bonds of blood. Yet, he was the only family I had left, the only one who shared my legacy. And now, his absence is a gaping wound, inflicted by my own foolishness. The agony of his loss is distinct. It serves as a perpetual reminder of my grave errors, an unceasing torment that tears at my soul.
My brother was born to lead, a natural force of charisma and power that exuded from his very being. He was everything I am not, born to command our family’s business with an iron fist. I was content to lurk in his shadow, to follow his lead without question, knowing that I was only there because of our shared blood.
But now, as fate would have it, I find myself in his shoes, thrust into a position I never wanted nor felt I deserved. His death has left our family and business vulnerable, exposed to the dangers he so recklessly courted. I am left to pick up the pieces, to mend the damage he wrought with his foolish pride.
The burden of leadership is heavy on my shoulders, and I know I must be twice as cruel, twice as cunning, and twice as calculating as he ever was. The enemies he made now see us as weak, foolish, and vulnerable. But I will prove them wrong, for the sake of our family, for the sake of his memory, and for the sake of my own redemption.
Inheriting my brother’s position and duties came with an unexpected burden: Livia, his fiancé. My brother had made a binding contract to wed her to fulfill a debt owed to another family, but fate intervened, and he passed away before their wedding day. So now, it falls upon me to honor the contract.
Although their engagement was born of a business transaction, their love grew deep and strong, much to my surprise. My brother, a man consumed by his own ego, had never shown affection for anyone but himself. Yet, in Livia’s presence, he was transformed, radiating a love that shone like a beacon. His love for her was palpable, and it seems like a cruel twist of fate that I am the one to marry her in his stead.
Marrying the woman he loved feels like a betrayal, even if it is a contractual obligation. It’s a tangled web of duty, honor, and love that leaves me feeling lost and conflicted.
Every time my gaze falls upon her, my heart aches with guilt and regret. In her, I see a reflection of my brother, a reminder of my betrayal. I can’t help but wonder if she feels the weight of our shared burden. The distance between us feels vast, like an ocean that cannot be traversed.
She moves through our home like a ghost, a fleeting presence that I can never quite catch. We share no bed, and our interactions are limited to brief and polite exchanges as we pass each other in the hallways. The walls of her room are her only refuge, and she has barricaded herself behind them, keeping her distance from me.
I have tried to make her stay comfortable, to show her some kindness. But my attempts have been met with silence, and I understand her reluctance to engage with me. It is a punishment that I must bear.
In my pursuit to rebuild our family’s legacy, I have opened our home to countless events and gatherings. But beneath the façade of merriment and camaraderie lies the tension of my guilt and the weight of my responsibility. I am determined to restore our family’s power and influence, to reclaim our rightful place at the top. But at what cost? Is the price of our success the loss of our humanity, the sacrifice of our personal lives? Only time will tell.
