The Heir
1315 Words
Nico Vassallo hated weddings.
He hated everything about them.
The unnecessary attention.
The expensive decorations.
The smiling photographs.
The speeches.
The pretending.
Most of all, he hated the idea that his father had decided a woman was the final requirement for his succession.
He stood inside Vincent Callahan's study, staring at Adrian.
"Say it again."
Adrian's expression was murderous.
"You heard me."
"I want to hear you say it again."
"I should kill you."
Nico almost smiled.
"There he is."
Adrian stepped closer.
"You agreed to marry my sister."
"Yes."
"Why?"
Nico looked at him.
"Because I have to."
"That's your answer?"
"It's the truth."
Adrian's fists tightened.
"She's not a business deal."
"I know."
"Do you?"
Nico's expression hardened.
"I know exactly who your sister is."
Adrian laughed bitterly.
"No, you don't."
Nico said nothing.
Adrian had always been protective of Vivian.
Too protective, in Nico's opinion.
But Nico understood it.
Vivian was quiet.
Soft-spoken.
She had always stayed away from trouble.
Even as a child, she'd been different from the rest of them.
While Adrian and Nico had been learning how to shoot, negotiate and fight, Vivian had been somewhere nearby with a book in her hands.
She had never belonged in their world.
Nico had always made sure of that.
"She's twenty," Adrian said.
"I know."
"She's never been involved in this."
"Neither has my wife."
Adrian stared at him.
"You haven't even considered what she wants."
Nico's expression remained blank.
"Your father made the proposal."
"And you accepted."
"Because I need a wife."
Adrian looked at him like he wanted to put a bullet between his eyes.
"My sister isn't some convenient solution to your father's condition."
Nico stepped closer.
"Do you think I don't know that?"
"Then why?"
"Because your sister is the safest choice."
Adrian went still.
Nico continued.
"I know your family. I trust your father to honor the agreement. I trust you. And Vivian..."
He paused.
"What about Vivian?"
"She's quiet."
Adrian's eyes narrowed.
"She's not weak."
"I didn't say she was."
"Then don't mistake her silence for obedience."
Nico almost laughed.
"I've known Vivian for years."
"No. You've known of Vivian for years."
That sentence stayed with him.
But Nico dismissed it.
He didn't have time to analyze Vivian Callahan.
He had more important things to worry about.
His father's condition.
The coming war.
The alliance.
The future of the Vassallo organization.
He needed stability.
And Vivian offered exactly that.
She was familiar.
Predictable.
Safe.
He could protect her.
Provide for her.
Give her a comfortable life.
And in return, she would become his wife.
Simple.
Clean.
Controlled.
Everything Nico preferred.
Adrian moved toward the door.
"This doesn't mean I trust you."
Nico looked at him.
"You've trusted me with your life."
"My life isn't my sister."
"No."
Nico's voice became quieter.
"Which is why I would never intentionally hurt her."
Adrian stopped.
"You better not."
Nico met his gaze.
"I won't."
It was a promise.
And Nico Vassallo did not make promises lightly.
The formal dinner took place three nights later.
The Callahan dining room had been transformed.
Crystal chandeliers illuminated the long table. Candles flickered between expensive arrangements of white roses, and men from both families stood discreetly along the walls.
Vivian sat beside her father.
Nico sat across from her.
He hadn't spoken to her since that night.
He wasn't sure why he noticed.
He shouldn't have.
Yet his eyes kept finding her.
She looked different tonight.
Not dramatically.
She wasn't wearing anything provocative or designed to draw attention.
That wasn't Vivian.
She wore a simple dark green dress that fell elegantly over her petite figure, the neckline modest, her long black hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders.
She looked...
Pretty.
He frowned.
Why had he never noticed that before?
She was staring at her plate.
Probably nervous.
Nico understood.
Marriage was a major change.
Especially when it was arranged.
He watched her fingers tighten around her fork.
Then she looked up.
Their eyes met.
For some reason, she didn't immediately look away.
Her green eyes held his.
There was something in them.
Something he couldn't identify.
Then she blinked and lowered her gaze.
Interesting.
Matteo cleared his throat.
"To the future of both families."
Glasses lifted.
Vivian raised hers.
Nico watched her take a small sip.
The dinner continued.
Business was discussed.
Territory.
Security.
The approaching threat.
The alliance.
Eventually, Matteo turned toward Nico.
"You should speak to your future wife."
Nico's jaw tightened.
He hated being ordered around.
But he stood.
"Vivian."
She looked up.
"Yes?"
"Come with me."
Her eyebrows lifted slightly.
"Where?"
"Outside."
She followed him.
They stepped onto the terrace overlooking the gardens.
The night air was cool.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Nico leaned against the railing.
Vivian stood several feet away.
He studied her.
She looked nervous.
"Are you uncomfortable?"
"A little."
"Because of the marriage?"
She hesitated.
"Yes."
He nodded.
"I understand."
She looked at him.
"Do you?"
"Yes."
Silence.
Then Nico said the words he believed needed to be said.
"I want to make something clear."
Her expression changed.
"Okay."
"This marriage will be an arrangement."
Her face went still.
"There will be no expectations."
She swallowed.
"No expectations?"
"No."
He continued.
"I won't pretend this is something it isn't."
Vivian stared at him.
"Of course."
"I'll provide everything you need."
"I know."
"You'll have your own room."
Her fingers curled slightly.
"We'll live separate lives within the same house."
She nodded.
"And if you want companionship..."
He paused.
"I won't expect you to remain faithful to me."
Vivian's eyes flickered.
"And you?"
"I'll do the same."
Something crossed her face.
Pain.
So quick he almost missed it.
Then it disappeared.
"Of course."
Nico frowned.
"Is that a problem?"
"No."
"You can be honest."
She gave him a small smile.
"I'm being honest."
He didn't believe her.
But he didn't know why.
He stepped closer.
"When the time comes for an heir, I'll tell you."
Her eyes widened slightly.
"An heir?"
"My father's condition."
"I know."
"Then you understand."
"Yes."
She looked toward the garden.
"I understand."
Nico watched her.
For the first time, he noticed how quiet she became when uncomfortable.
He had always assumed she was simply reserved.
Maybe he was wrong.
But the thought disappeared quickly.
He had more important things to consider.
"Vivian."
She looked at him again.
"You don't have to be afraid of me."
Her expression softened.
"I'm not."
He knew she was lying.
And for some reason, that bothered him.
That night, Vivian lay awake in her bedroom.
The room was dark except for the small lamp beside her bed.
A book lay open in her lap.
She hadn't read a single word in twenty minutes.
She kept hearing Nico's voice.
There will be no expectations.
We'll live separate lives.
I'll do the same.
She closed the book.
Her chest hurt.
She had known.
Of course she had known.
Nico had never loved her.
But knowing something in your head was different from hearing it from the person himself.
She looked toward the ceiling.
Twenty years.
Twenty years of watching him.
Twenty years of quietly collecting memories.
The first time he'd smiled at her.
The first time he'd called her Vivian instead of kid.
The time he'd brought her a book from Italy because he'd remembered she liked the author.
The night he'd carried her inside after she fell asleep during a family party.
She had taken every small kindness and hidden it inside her heart.
She had turned them into something they had never been.
Love.
Or at least, she had believed they might become love.
Now she knew better.
She pressed a hand against her chest.
"You i***t," she whispered.
Her eyes burned.
She refused to cry.
She had spent too many years learning how to hide.
She wasn't going to stop now.
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