The Pawn's Power

"You're getting married next week, so prepare," he said casually as if discussing the weather and not the fate of my entire life.

I stared at him, shocked, while finding it hard to process his words.

"Married? How? Why? Next week?". I asked, trying to make sense of all that he had said

He continued eating while ignoring my questions, and then he said

"Pass the sauce, this meal is bland."

I tried to play calm, as I passed him the sauce.

This was what he always did, taking up decisions about my life, without bothering to let me have a say in it, I turned to my mom, hoping for an explanation from her, but her lips were set in a thin, disapproving line, which wasn't shocking as she was against me questioning my father's decisions.

After a few minutes of silence and no explanation from anyone, I summoned courage and asked again, trying to sound polite. "But why am I getting married so soon? I haven't even had a chance to-"

Before I could say another word, my mother's sharp palm hit my cheek and cut me off, her eyes blazing with anger and irritation

. "How dare you question your father?" she hissed.

The pain of my mother's slap against my cheek was painful but the true pain was the familiar sense of helplessness that washed over me, I barely tried to hold my tears. In this family, my wants and needs were always subject to the standards of my parents, they barely cared for what I wanted.

"Is it my life you're all talking about?" The words came out suddenly, an outburst that had been long overdue. I was simply tired of being controlled or having my future dictated by those who claimed to know what was best.

" I have the right to know what exactly I'm getting into, don't I?" I asked, while barely holding the tears from falling.

My father suddenly got up from the table, his chair scraped the floor with an unpleasant grate, and his gaze shifted to me.

"Do you now feel you have the right to question my decisions?" He said, as he came closer to me "Or do you think I owe you an explanation?" he asked while his gaze still on me

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry, unable to look him in the eye.

"You're getting married, and that's final," he spat, the words laced with a finality that left no room for argument. With that, he turned and stormed out of the dining room.

"Then let it be over my dead body," I said wondering where I got the courage to say such words.

" I can not..."

My mother's voice cut through my words,

"Then die, you useless child," she hissed. "The day you killed my son, the heir to my husband's business, was the day you lost any value to me. The least you can do now is save the family by getting married," she said, while she walked out.

I felt the air leave my lungs, the weight of her words crushing me with the realization that she still held a grudge against me, for the death of Ryder. I collapsed into the dining chair, for my legs were barely able to carry me. It had been a very long morning, and I was tired of everything, I barely could process the fact that I would be getting married next week.

I tried to control the tears that streamed from my eyes and down to my cheeks. I didn't bother to wipe them away, letting them fall, my body shook with sobs, my chest heaving as I struggled to catch my breath. The room around me blurred, and all I could focus on was the thought that my mom still blamed me for Ryder's death. Had I not insisted on going on the field trip, Ryder might not have come to pick me up and he might still be alive. Perhaps it was my fault, which I have been made to pay for, but for too long, no amount of suffering could ease my dad's hurt and my mom's grief, since that day not only did I lose Ryder but also my parents and me, as we all died, when Ryder died.

I didn't want to be consumed by the thoughts of Ryder's death, as I had more pressing matters to face and I couldn't think about it in the dining room. So I managed to push myself up from the dining chair.

As I reached my room and slammed the door shut behind me, I collapsed on the bed, while burying my face in my pillow, and letting the tears flow, I was angry at everybody and everything. I wept for Ryder, for my parents, and for the life we once had. I cried for the loss and the pain that still lingered.

Just as I thought I'd found some peace and quietness in my room, I heard the door creak open slightly. It was my mom who was standing at the doorway, her eyes cold as she said

"The business is collapsing, and marriage is the only way to save it. It's going to happen with or without your say, and you better play along, as this is the least you can do for us."

I looked at her and all I could feel was anger and resentment, as she was willing to sacrifice me, to use me as a pawn in her game, just like she had always done. I looked away as she left, I was tired of everything, the fight and the silent treatment she gave to me.

If getting married to a person I don't even know will ease my parents' anger then so be it. After all, this was what I had been trained for all my life, maybe getting married might not be that bad, but I could finally get rid of the memories of Ryder.

My anger boiled over as I slammed my fist on the table. "Are you kidding me? You think you can just arrange a wife for me like it's the Dark Ages or the nineties, where you wake up one morning and arrange a wife for me?" I yelled barely able to contain my anger

" You would not raise your voice at me young man and this should be the last time you disrespect me or question my authority, you are getting married and that is final," he said as he pointed at the door dismissing me.

" Do have a nice day," he said.

I laugh at his words, always feeling he could have his way with me, he never learns from experience.

" You know Dad, that no one, can force me to do a thing, I won't get married to whomever you have arranged for me because I am in love with someone else," I said.

" And by that someone else, do you mean the bar girl, who you can't differentiate from a fling to love, right?" he asked, already angry as he squeezed his pen trying to suppress his anger.

" Say whatever you want but I am not getting married and that is final," I said while walking out.

"Then you'll lose everything. You'll no longer be my son. You'll have to choose between your title as a Blackhood and that...that...infatuation with a bar girl. Marrying the Robinsons' daughter is a golden opportunity, a chance to secure our family's future. You're willing to throw all that away for a fleeting romance?, be prepared to deal with the consequences, I have condoned your recklessness for too long, it is high time you deal with the choices you make"

he said

As I walked out of my father's office, my mind was filled with thoughts of Scarlet. She was more than just a mere fling; she was someone I could see myself spending my future with.

I hit the dustbin box close to me, trying to suppress my anger as I headed to my office. How dare my father try to force me into an arranged marriage with a girl I barely knew? He knew I couldn't be forced into anything, and his ultimatum was essentially a threat to disown me. But I didn't care - I would choose Scarlet over my family ties any day.

I picked up my phone and dialed Scarlet's number, my fingers trembling as I barely had to calm my nerves down, calling Scarlet could help but I couldn't help but think of her sweet voice as I waited for her to answer. It took four rings, but finally, she picked up.

"What the heck, Asher," she said, I could hear her voice sounded sleepy

" How many times have I told you to stop calling during the daytime for this is the time I rest," she said obviously annoyed that I had called her

" Sorry, I know but I just wanted to hear your voice and..." I tried saying it before she interrupted.

" You just wanted to hear my voice, that is nice and that was why you interrupted my sleep.

Let me get this straight, Asher you woke me up from my previous sleep just to hear my voice? She asked, irritated by it.

I hesitated, my heart racing. "I didn't call just to hear your voice, Scar. I knew you'd be asleep, but I had to ask you something very important. It's a game-changer for me, well for us..." I paused, collecting my thoughts. I never for once imagined that I would propose over the phone, but it was for the better. I needed to know her answer so as to give me the strength to fight for my love. I took a deep breath, my mind raced, searching for the right words.

"Important? At this hour? Can't it wait till tonight ?" she asked, her voice was husky with sleep, but her annoyance was clear.

" Can you please listen?" I asked.

" Fine but make it snappy," she said

"Since the first day I met you, I have been dreaming of this moment, I never knew it would come so soon but it is for the best, as I would..." I tried saying it before I was interrupted by her.

" Can you please get straight to the point, you know how my sleep is important to me, I have wasted four minutes on the phone with you and I do not plan to waste another minute" she said

" Fine," I said while bracing myself up to finally ask the question

" Scarlet Harrison, would you do me this favor and be my wife?" I asked, eager to hear her response.

" To hell with you Asher," she said.

" And don't you ever wake me up from my sleep again," She said as she hung up the call.

I stared at the phone, shocked by her response. This wasn't the response I expected from the love of my life who I just proposed to. Was she worth fighting for? I thought, my mind racing with doubts. I hated making bad investments and fighting for someone who didn't want to be fought for felt like a risky gamble - one that could cost me my inheritance.

I needed time to think and to weigh my options carefully. My mind wandered back to my meeting with my father. Had I been too hasty in my decisions? I picked up my phone, my fingers dialing his number with a mix of reluctance.

"When is this so-called wedding you've planned for me?" I asked, my voice barely audible as I spun around in my chair. Calling my father felt like a blow to my ego, especially after all I had said. But I needed answers.

"Next week," he said.

" Next week?" I asked, stunned by the fact that I was getting married next week and I was just informed now. This must be a joke!

" Yes, next week, you get to meet the girl tomorrow, so you know more about her before we finalize everything next week," he said

The days seemed to roll over quickly, and after much preparation, today was finally the day my parents had been waiting for, the day I had dreaded, the day I would be getting married, the marriage was kept a low-key, as it was a request from the groom's family. I looked in the mirror and saw that I looked very elegant, and the dress did look good on me.

The thoughts of what my husband would look like came into my mind, as I haven't met with him physically, he had been busy lately according to my dad. The idea of my future husband filled me with a sense of dread, a heavy burden I couldn't ignore. I struggled to imagine what he would be like - kind or cruel, supportive or controlling? What kind of life would we build together? Despite the arranged marriage being a necessity, a glimmer of hope flickered within me, longing for it to succeed, if only to escape this suffocating house, where I felt trapped and caged.

Just as these thoughts swirled in my mind, my mom's voice interrupted my thoughts

"You look absolutely stunning," she said, but her words seemed distant as she didn't really care much about my appearance.

With gentle hands, she adjusted the fabric beneath my dress, her actions feeling more like she was admiring her handiwork.

"Remember everything I've taught you," she said, her tone carrying a mix of instruction and anxiety. "Lower your gaze when you meet him, speak only when spoken, be gentle in your words, and mind your manners. Men like Asher are drawn to grace and gentleness," she said, rambling on about what kind of wife I should be, this was more than the sixth time she had said it.

I wished that the lectures would end quickly. What was worse was the gown I was wearing, which made me feel as though I were being squeezed. My mother had tightened the corset because she believed that men like Asher do not like overweight women.

Her phone beeped, it was a signal for my mom to bring me downstairs which indicated that it was finally time to see my would-be husband.

My mom looked at me, her gaze pleading with mine once more, desperation laced in her voice.

"Please, make this work. Our family's fate rests on your shoulders. The entire business hangs in the balance. You're our last hope, try not to ruin everything like you are always used to."

she said as she ushered me out of the room.

"You go first; I'll follow shortly. Let me tidy up here," she said, turning her face away from me. I noticed a tear that rolled down her cheek.

With my head bowed, I slowly and elegantly walked down the stairs like my mom had taught me. As I entered the dining room, the first person that my eyes caught was a handsome blond man, with blue eyes and a sharp chin sitting beside my father. His appearance made me shiver in awe, as I admired his beauty. I quickly turned away from my gaze to stare further, for I dared not stare; it was impolite for a lady to stare at a stranger, as my mom had taught me, maybe that was my husband I thought.

Quietly, I approached the table and greeted as I had been instructed, avoiding eye contact.

"She truly is beautiful," Mr. Blackwood remarked.

"Please, take your seat next to your prospective husband," he said with a chuckle, gesturing to a chair.

"Or perhaps we should allow them a moment of privacy, to let the future bride and groom acquaint themselves, as this is their first meeting," he suggested, then turned to my father, and they exited the dining room with his companion, presumably his youngest son.

As they left, I caught a glimpse of his face. I felt a bit disappointed as it wasn't the one I thought was my husband, this one had black hair and was skinnier than the first person I had seen. There was something off about him that made my skin crawl with fear. His gaze moved over me like a predator sizing up its prey, leaving me feeling like a prized possession on display. He rose from his seat, his eyes never leaving my body, as he approached me with a deliberate slowness that made my heart flutter with fear.

As he raised my chin with his fingers, when he did I felt a cold sensation run down my spine. He tilted a side of my face as if seeking a better view, his eyes not leaving my face. I held my breath for a while as fear gripped me. I was unable to meet his gaze.

"You look lovely," he sneered, his tone dripping with mockery, as he refused to release me. His eyes remained fixed on me, making me feel like a trapped animal.

As he finally released his grip, I crumpled into the nearest chair, my legs trembling. His gaze remained fixed on me, a cold, calculating stare that made my skin crawl.

"So, you're the wife my father arranged for me?" he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt.

"What's your name, anyway?" he asked, his eyes still on me.

I tried saying a word but my memory failed me, as I forgot my name due to the tension, I tried stopping my fingers from shaking I finally managed to say a barely audible word

"Ara..."

" Never mind and I don't care to know whatever you are called?" he said "but listen up, I do not want anything to do with you. I hate you, simply because you look...like this." His eyes raked over me, leaving me feeling like a revolting insect under a microscope.

"So, try as much as possible to keep your distance from me. Do I make myself clear?"

I nodded, as I bit my lips trying to control the tears from falling and I said with my voice barely audible and my head bowed

"Y-yes, sir."

"Now, let's get this over with," he said,

"Be a darling and put on a smile, go call our parents that we are done with our formal meeting."

I felt little of myself, as I tried to force a fake smile on my face.