(SASHA)
"I told you that the last time we talked about this." My father says, biting his jaw.
"I didn't think it was this serious," I say, looking for a trace of a joke in his face only to find none.
"Well, it is." He responds in a firm cold tone. "You have a few weeks to find a mate. If you don't, I'm afraid Angelo is gonna have to take your place."
"Angelo?" I hiss. "Why the hell would Angelo be the next in line?"
"Because your brother Jericho is way younger than you. If the men are worked up about someone as young as you taking over from me, imagine how much more they would be disappointed if they will be with Jericho stepping in." He clears his throat. "He's also single, that wouldn't help much. Angelo is older and married. The men may not like him but they will consider him stable."
Stable.
"Stable?" I retort, not realizing how my voice rises. "How is Angelo stable? He's a fucking moron and we both know that. How is that stable?"
My father stares at me for a beat then rubs his eyes. "Sasha, you keep acting like I want a part in this when the only thing I want here is for you to take over from me. That has been the plan all along, and nothing about it changed. Now you have to understand that this is what they require you to do. If you want to keep the job, then you'll have to get married before I die. There is no other way." He clears his throat and looks paler than he did when I first entered here.
I know certainly that I'm causing him extra strain, and for that, I feel a pang of guilt. But how am I supposed to help the situation? Of course, I don't want to get married. I haven't thought of it in what feels like forever. The very idea makes my skin crawl. What am I supposed to do with an omega who'll hang around me all the time? Especially one that I'm supposed to interact with as my husband?
"I've done all I can, son. Now it's your turn to do the rest. The best I can do for you now is to try to hang on for a bit longer. I don't know how long, but my state doesn't look promising." I can see his hands tremble and it then hits me that he's weaker than he lets on. "You have three weeks. Three weeks." He repeats as if I didn't hear him the first time.
The mention of that makes fear course through me. My father is the strongest man I know. He has always been. His presence always protected me, shielded me from the realities of our world. Much as I've been trained to be the next don, he's never left my side even for a day. The men did what I ordered them to do because my father backed me, well, for the most part.
The men know that disrespecting me will bring down the fires of hell on them. But with father gone, there will be nobody else to keep them in line except me. The fear he instills in them won't be here to shield me anymore. The men must learn to fear and respect me, or else, I'll fail miserably at my job and probably get killed in my sleep. My father has worked so hard, for so long that it would disgrace him if I threw all his efforts away just because I can't bear having an omega around me.
As the family rule dictates, the firstborns inherit the job. I'm sure nobody asked him if he wanted to, and I'm certainly sure no one will ask me. I have to inherit it from him, just like he did from his father and many generations back. But when I come to think of what he's saying, it means that there won't be peace if he dies before I find an omega and get married.
There will be chaos, bloodshed. That's obvious even. I don't want a simple act of selfishness to cost everything that my father has worked for to make the Triple Triad syndicate what it is now. In my years of experience, I know there's nothing as dangerous as an organization that has no leader. I have seen it happen before. I have heard of it from the more experienced men. It's heedless and many good people died while at it.
I sure don't want that for me, for us. If I fail at my job, it would put my whole family's lives in danger. The fate of the Triple Triad Syndicates lies in my hand. It is already a crushing responsibility as it is, not to mention that I don't even have a remote desire to take a mate.
I don't want to go down as the coward who couldn't see his term through. One who was raised and given the training needed and only ended up sabotaging it because I want to put my own needs first
"So, what will it be?" My father's voice startles me from my thoughts. I look at him, and much as he doesn't show it, I can see the anxiety emanate off of him like a fever. He needs me now, and I can't disobey him or turn my back on his request.
"Alright, father. I'll do it."
When I mention that, I see his shoulders slump with relief. Much as it has put me in a tough position, I appreciate that it has relieved him of some stress since there's not much that I can do to help the situation. If this is what he wants―they want, I'll do it.
In truth, I know for sure that it'll be a miracle if he survives the next few weeks. The thought causes grief to clutch at me, but I stifle its head, not daring to show any emotions. I know that's how he wants me to be, and if I'm going to rule the syndicate, I sure know that's the way to go.
No weakness or sympathy.
He wants me to be the strong man he bred me to be, and do what I was raised to do.
And that exactly is what I'm going to do.
Because I'm Sasha freaking Adonis and I'm not going to let Angelo, or anyone steal my inheritance from me.