Capítulo 4: Chapter 4: The Final Demand

Jonathan's Point of View

3 months ago, before marriage.

I stood at the doorway of my father's study, the heavy mahogany doors open ajar. The smell of leather and old books wafted up, the scent of a man who had ruled this empire long before I ever stepped foot into the boardroom. My footsteps, on cold marble floor, barely echoed. All I could hear was the shallow breathing of the man I'd admired-and feared-for most of my life.

Jonathan," his voice was hoarse; the powerful baritone weakened by the illness that had racked him for the last year. His eyes flicked up from the documents in front of him, sharp as ever despite the frail body that betrayed him.

I walked in, my posture as stiff as the tension hanging between us. "You wanted to see me," I said, my tone deadpan. This wasn't the time for sentiment. In our world, it never was.

"Yes," he rasped, nodding toward the chair across from him. "Sit."

I sank back onto the leather chair and watched his face. Skin sallow, pulled taut on high cheekbones, and hands, once firm and steady, shaking ever so slightly as he folded the papers. Not a word of cancer, not until it was too late. So like him-always to play things close to the chest, even when his life was in the balance.

"I won't waste time," he started off, reclining in his chair. "You've done well with Wells Enterprise. You've managed to prove yourself capable enough to run the company."

I nodded once, knowing this wasn't a compliment. It was a prologue. There was always something more.

"But," he said, his eyes boring into mine, "there's one more thing I need from you."

Here it was. The 'but.' There was always a catch.

"I'm dying, Jonathan," he said matter-of-factly, as if he were discussing a merger. "You know this."

"Yes," I said quietly. I didn't really know how to answer that. I never had.

"The board's concerned about the company's future," he went on. "They're loyal to me, but when I'm gone, that'll shift. You have to be firmer-make them not turn against you."

I straightened in my chair; my attention sharpened. This wasn't news. I'd been preparing for this transition for years, but the way he said it—there was more to it.

"They won't back me just because I'm your son?" I asked, my voice edged with disbelief. "I've been running this company for the past five years. I've built it up—"

"They respect you," he cut in, "but respect is not enough in this world. You know it better than everybody else. You have power, but power turns slippery just in that second when they feel weakness.

"And where precisely am I weak?" I bit out, frustration gnawing on me. This was nothing short of time wastage. I didn't need his approval anymore. Still, he had a way of making me feel like I fell behind.

"You're weak," he said slowly, heavy, "because you're alone."

I stared at him, the silence between us thickening. Alone? I'd built my life around being self-sufficient, avoiding distractions-cutting off anything that might pull me off track. Alone was a strength, not a weakness.

"The board," he carried on, "wants to see stability. They want to know you are more than a ruthless businessman. They want to know there is something human about you, someone to ground you. A wife, Jonathan.

I blinked, sure that I must have misheard him. "A wife?"

He nodded, his expression inflexible. "It's my last will. You are to get married."

A cold laugh escaped my lips before I could suppress it. "You are seriously telling me that in order to inherit the company, I have to get married? You are unbelievable."

His eyes narrowed. "Do I look like I am joking?"

My jaw clenched. I knew he wasn't. My father never joked. "And if I don't?"

"If you don't," he said, his body angling forward just the slightest hint, "then the company will go to the board and you will lose control. They'll tear it apart piece by piece until there's nothing left of what I built. Nothing left of what we built."

The room seemed to close in on me, the air thick with unspoken threats. My heart was pounding in my chest, the weight of his words sinking in. It was my whole life, everything I had worked for, all to be held hostage by one condition: marriage. All these years, I had taken pride in being unattached-on keeping emotions out of business. Marriage? It was a liability.

"I won't let the board take what's mine," I snarled between gritted teeth. "But marriage is out of the question."

"It's not about you anymore," he said, voice low and soft but unrelenting. "It's about legacy. You've done everything right, Jonathan, but this-this is the last piece."

I rose in an instant, scraping the chair back on the floor. "I don't need a wife to run this company."

"No," he agreed, "but you need one to keep it."

I turned away from him, staring out of the window at the skyline that I had conquered, at the city bowed beneath my feet. It wasn't supposed to be this way. I was in control. I was in power. And in one sentence my father had managed to take all that from me, leaving me with only one impossible choice.

Marriage. The one thing I had dedicated my life to avoiding.

"Jonathan," my father's voice broke through the tempest in my head. "This isn't just about the company. It's about you. I want you to have something real, something more than just numbers and deals. You need this."

I turned back to him, my expression hard. "When?"

You have a year," he said, his voice weakening. "A year to find someone. If not, the company goes to the board."

I glared at him, the man who had sculpted my life, who had molded me into what I was today. I didn't need love. I didn't need a wife. But I needed Wells Enterprise. And if a marriage was the price I had to pay, then so be it.

"I'll do it," I said coldly, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. "I'll get married."

My father's face softened, a glimmer in his eyes of something almost like approval. "Good."

I nodded once, then turned and walked out of the room, the weight of his condition settling on my shoulders.

I would get married. But it wouldn't be out of love. No, this would be a transaction-a deal like any other. And in the end, I would win-just like I always did.

I had a year. A year to find a wife. Or lose everything.

comentario 0 comentario

Votar

ENVIAR REGALO

Load failed, please RETRY