The Beginning to it all

Lucy

I was summoned to the grand room of the mansion, a space filled with opulence and history. My father awaited me, sitting in his customary spot behind a massive, polished desk that seemed to dominate the room. Above him hung a portrait of a distant ancestor, Great Great Grandfather Adam, whose piercing gaze seemed to follow me as I approached. “Come in, child,” he called, his voice echoing slightly in the cavernous space.

My heart raced, and my jaw dropped in disbelief. How could this be happening? At just 20 years old, I found myself facing a man who was only 31. A man I had learned to resent since childhood, a man who felt like an adversary rather than a figure of authority. Marriage? To him? The very thought sent a chill down my spine.

I hesitated but stepped forward, compelled by the weight of his gaze. He gestured toward an ornate chair, its rich upholstery inviting yet daunting. As I sat down, a storm of questions swirled in my mind.

“I have something very important to discuss with you,” he began, his tone suddenly grave. “I have arranged your marriage to the son of our rival, Alexander Be Luce. The wedding will take place in just two days.”

Once again, my jaw hung open in shock. How was this even possible? The reality of the situation struck me like a thunderclap—bound to a man I had silently loathed for years, thrust into a union that felt more like a punishment than a promise. Why was my father making me do this?

His voice sliced through the heavy silence like a knife, commanding yet laden with authority. “You must go shopping at once. As my daughter and the heir to the divan mafia gang, it is your duty to comply with my wishes and strengthen our political position by forging this alliance.”

As the last syllable hung in the air, I felt the weight of his words pressing down on me. “But father…” I started to protest, only to be interrupted by his steely gaze. “There’s no room for ‘but’ in your situation,” he snapped, the tension in the room palpable. “We are in a precarious position, and you are an asset. You will do whatever I ask.”.

My father was a deeply selfish man, unable to find fulfillment in his relationships. He failed to keep three of his wives happy, each meeting a tragic end—one lived her final days in misery, another succumbed to despair and took her own life, while the last perished during childbirth, giving life to me. It’s clear he never loved my mother nor had any genuine affection for the others who came before her. How could I possibly think he would care for me? He’s a monster, driven solely by his insatiable thirst for power and wealth. To him, I am just a tool, an object he can cast aside whenever it suits him. I am nothing more than a means to an end—an expendable asset in his quest for dominance.

I navigate my existence in the shadows of his tyranny, understanding that compliance is my only means of survival. If I dare to defy him, I risk the same fate as my elder sister, a haunting memory that lingers in my mind. Her life ended too soon, marred by the dark circumstances that led to her brutal demise at the hands of our father. I shudder at the thought of her struggles, knowing all too well that in a world where love is absent, the price of rebellion can be fatal.

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