Loyalty and Lies

Family Crises

Nicholas pov:

"Get married?" I asked Aiden, perplexed, glancing at him from the side. We were still in the car, on our way to the meeting my father had called yesterday. Initially, I was surprised he even invited me, especially after my absence last time, which had left him far from pleased.
But now, everything began to make sense after what Aiden had just disclosed.

Considering, Aiden still hadn't answered my previous question, I couldn't help but ask again.

"My father is getting married?" I urged him to answer me.

Aiden sighed, his gaze fixed on the street ahead. "Yeah," was all he replied. No further explanation. It was as if dropping such a bombshell without any details was completely normal.

"That's it? Just 'Yeah'? Who is she?"

"I don't know much about her. There are rumors, but nothing concrete. No name." He confessed, his eyes never leaving the road. Uneasiness bubbled inside me.

"Rumors? What kind of rumors?"

"Some say she is part of the Russian mafia, a big shot there. Other's claim she has nothing to do with the mafia. Some even say she is a prostitute. But you know how rumors are. Your father wouldn't marry a prostitute."

Nah, he wouldn't. But he would marry someone from the Russian mafia and Aiden knew that too. 

After my mother passed away, everything changed. Her death altered the very fabric of our lives, casting a shadow over our family that we couldn't escape. I hated thinking back, it was the worst day of my life.

I wasn't the same after.

Neither was my father.

Since then, his focus shifted entirely. No longer content with the life we once had, his sole interest became gaining more power. It was no longer about family, it was about alliances, influence, and expanding his empire at any cost.

Yet what he wanted and what he would get were two entirely different things. My father was the strongest, smartest, and most loyal person I knew, with an exceptional business sense. That makes it all the more painful to see how he succumbed to anger and grief, becoming weak and easy to manipulate.

I knew it. The Russians knew it. It might have been surprising, but not shocking, that he was marrying again. Deep down, I saw it coming.

Since the Russians' arrival, they had ingratiated themselves into my father's inner circle, painting a facade of camaraderie and shared objectives. But beneath the veneer of cooperation lay a web of deceit and ulterior motives.

"Bullshit," I muttered under my breath.

The only allies the Russians acknowledged were themselves, their own family. My father and I were not part of their family, not now, and not in the future.

I had seen the way they operated, ruthless, cunning, and always a step ahead. Their promises of partnership and shared goals were nothing but a facade to tighten their grip on my father's empire.

My father was too blinded by his ambition and grief to see the trap he was walking into. He believed he could use their power to solidify his own, but he was wrong. The Russians didn't share power, they consumed it.

This wedding was certainly not meant to unite us. If anything, it was designed to tear us apart from within. And my father was blind enough to let it happen.

A thought that made me wish he would marry a prostitute instead.

"How long have you known?" I asked, trying to gather more informations about this unfavorable situation.