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Sasha's POV
"I'm sorry, what?" I ask, hoping-praying-that somehow I misheard my father. Maybe he had a stroke, or perhaps his brain was simply malfunctioning.
"I've arranged a marriage for you," he repeats, his voice unwavering. Oh, I heard him alright. Arranged marriage. That's the phrase that sent a cold shiver running down my spine. My brain stutters for a moment as I sit frozen in my seat, processing what he just said. I can feel my pulse quicken, my throat tightening as I search for words. But all I can do is stare at him, trying desperately to comprehend the absurdity of his statement.
I lose a breath and throw my head back, letting out an exaggerated sigh. My father doesn't flinch. He remains perfectly composed, his back straight as he watches me, clearly unimpressed with my reaction. Of course he's not impressed. What did he expect? That I would jump up, clapping, shouting, "Oh, thank you, Father, for controlling my life!"?
If I wanted a man, I'd get one-on my own terms. I've been doing perfectly fine for the last 24 years of my life without someone telling me who I can or can't marry. I just finished my degree in business management, and all I wanted was a break, maybe a little holiday to let loose and recharge. But no, instead, my father pulls me out of my well-deserved break in Italy with a phone call that has this as its grand revelation.
I glance at my father again, still processing the words he had just unleashed upon me. An arranged marriage? I lean back in my chair and stare at him in shock, my thoughts spiraling. Who does this in 2025? What century is he living in?
"You're quiet, Sasha," my father notes with an edge of annoyance. "I take it this isn't the reaction I was hoping for."
I don't even know how to respond, so I just sit there in stunned silence. Part of me is waiting for him to laugh, to tell me it's some twisted joke. But no. He doesn't crack a smile. His eyes are steely, resolute.
Taking my silence as confirmation, he continues, "Well, MATHCO has finally gone bankrupt, and this is the opportunity I've been waiting for. It's time to gain control of that company and, more importantly, the market. You're going to help me do that."
I blink, my brain struggling to follow along. MATHCO. That name. The corporation my father has been eyeing for years. I don't care about the company itself, but I can see how deeply this financial mess has affected him. His pride, his entire identity, revolves around money. Power. Control. I've been witness to his relentless pursuit of success, often at the expense of his own happiness-and mine.
"And this is why I need your help," he continues, as if he's already mapped out my future without consulting me. "With the son ready to take over, you would get half of what he owns. That means the company-and the market-will finally be mine."
Mine. The word hangs in the air like an unwelcome guest. I want to scream that it will technically be mine, but I can't. It's not worth the fight right now. Instead, I remain eerily calm, despite the storm raging inside me.
His smug smile widens as he leans back in his chair. It's a rare expression on him-one I don't see often when it comes to me. Most of the time, I'm just a pawn in his grand scheme of things, the daughter who exists as a means to an end. But today, it's different. Today, I'm the golden ticket that will help him salvage his empire.
I can't help but feel the wave of resentment rising in me. I've always been a second thought in his life, only called upon when there's a financial or business issue to deal with. I wonder why I even bother trying to please him, to live up to whatever warped expectations he has of me. I had been in Italy, savoring my freedom for once, and yet here I am, dragged back to deal with his mess.
His voice breaks through my thoughts again. "This marriage will give me the leverage I need. I need you to marry the son of the MATHCO CEO. He's young, wealthy, and powerful. You'll be able to secure your future, Sasha. Secure the future of our company. Think of it as an investment."
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