contracted to carry his Heir.

The Weight of Legacy Lita Pov Have you ever had one of those days where you feel like you are not doing enough but to others you are doing more than enough, well that is what is happening now. I feel like I've done all I can do to save this bakery but it is not enough, it is missing something or perhaps a puzzle I can't seem to lay my hand on. The air in the back room of Gonzalez Bakery was thick and sweet, smelling of It was a comfortable, familiar stink, the scent of a hundred years of love baked into the very walls. I stood next to the old, industrial mixer, which always hummed faintly, even when off, gripping a crisp, white envelope that smelled of cheap paper. My mother, Sofia, was cleaning the countertop, she had a sad look covering her face, a face that once had bright smiles and genuine joy but now it is filled with pain. Her skin looked blemished and wrinkled from years of hard work. “Mija, leave that,” she said softly, not looking up. “It’s signed. The lawyers have done everything they could. We can’t fight Ivanov Global.” “This isn’t about the lawyers, Mama,” I argued, my voice too sharp. I instantly softened it. “This is about a loan from a bank they own, and a notice that says we have forty-eight hours. Forty-eight hours to pay a debt that’s inflated by twenty percent or lose everything.” She looked at me, with a sad smile. “My dear, I believe things happen for a reason and we know the kind of person Vasily is, he is not the type you can just go against, I say we let it be and look for somewhere else or something else” I shook my head vigorously, “ I rather die than let him win, I can't just let this go without actually trying mum, we all know how he sees everyone beneath him but I feel I just need to bring him from that high place, down to my level to talk some sense into him.” “My sweet girl, I know you are determined but nothing can be done here” she said while placing her hand on my shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. I smoothed the folded paper with a trembling thumb. The bank’s logo was small and discreet, but the parent company name was stamped in bold at the top: Ivanov Global. “Vasily Ivanov,” I spat the name out with so much bitterness. “He doesn't know what this bakery means. He doesn’t know what ‘legacy’ is. He sits in his glass palace and signs foreclosure notices without even seeing the address, without knowing that my abuela made the world’s best coconut flan right here.” “He’s a businessman, Lita,” my mother sighed, resting her head against the cool wall for a moment. “He sees a failed business. He doesn’t see our life. That’s just the way their world works.” “Then his world is broken,” I whispered, turning away before she could see the sudden sting of tears. I shoved the notice into the pocket of my jeans. “He needs to see it. He needs to see the faces behind the numbers he’s crushing.” I walked into the front of the bakery. The morning rush was long over, leaving a few regulars nursing coffee and the warm silence that settled in the afternoon. The shelves were still full—lemon tarts, almond croissants, and the signature tres leches cake—all baked with a love that felt utterly worthless right now. What will be of this peaceful place if it falls a victim to Ivanov, will I be able to live with myself if I don't do something even if it may not change anything Oh God help me, I don't know what to even fathom again, what should I even do when I see him, how do I talk sense to a senseless man? How do I show him the light when he is darkness himself? I shook my head, took my light jacket, put it on to have some form of solace, the jacket smelled of the bakery and if I was to enter an enemy's territory, I needed a familiar comfort. I walked out of the bakery, luckily for me I saw a cab on time, to take me to my doom. Well the earlier I do this, the better I get over it. I settled into the cab, my thoughts running but my fear palpable. “Where to ma?” The voice of the driver pulled me out from my thoughts. “Well I'm going to the Ivanov company, it is down St Mary's street, opposite –” “Don't worry ma, I don't need a description to know where the Ivanaov enterprises is, we are all in New York, so as a driver, it will be a shame I don't know about the devil himself,” he chuckled hard immediately he was done talking. I gave him an awkward stare, yeah that's it, the devil. You may think I'm exaggerating but no, New York has felt the shake and anger of Vasily Ivanov and I know I'm a fool now, walking straight to someone I know will not give a s**t what I'm about to say. After 20 minutes of silence, we arrived, the building was looking as tall as it did in the news, the sight of it alone is quite intimidating and attractive, well what do I expect from a billionaire and a business tycoon. I paid the driver and walked out, standing in front of the door, my reflection ., maybe I shouldn't have worn something that makes me look like a child, maybe something more matured because me on this cloth, with my knee length socks and shoes, showcasing my thick thighs and short legs… urgggh, I don't have time for this I opened the door, putting behind my fears and facing the devil himself, even if it will cost me something that I'm not prepared for.