The CEO's Twins

CHAPTER 4

Change of Plans

Mauro's POV

Today was not just any other day. It was my younger brother Franco's wedding day. However, that didn't mean work had to come to a halt. The world doesn’t stop, and least of all, neither do I.

"What are you doing here, Mauro? I went to your family's estate where the wedding is taking place, and they told me you're nowhere to be seen. Don’t tell me you stayed up working all night in the office?"

"Money and prestige don’t come easily, Mirko, but that's enough for today," I said as I loosened my tie and reached for a drink.

"You sometimes exaggerate, Mauro. As I keep saying, you need a woman, but I know you won’t listen to me. Anyway, we have to hurry. Your brother's wedding is the event of the year, and you don’t seem to care. Besides, the press is constantly speculating about who the groom is. I think your grandfather is keeping it under wraps. It’s incredible."

"It's my brother's wedding, of course I care, Mirko. And as for the secrecy, you already know how my grandfather is. He likes to attract the press's attention by creating an air of mystery."

"Yes, but this is too much," he said, showing me the wedding invitation and speaking sarcastically. "‘We invite you to the union of our children, The Warrens and the Sunnaks.’” He burst out laughing.

I couldn’t help but agree with him. My grandfather should have included the names of the bride and groom on the invitation instead of leaving it to the imagination. Although, of course, everyone knew there were only two heirs: Franco Warren, my younger brother, who fails to take on the responsibility he should, and me, Mauro Warren, the one tasked with elevating the Warren name to the top. We were the best in the construction industry—everyone wanted to do business with us. Only the Favres were above us, but I was determined to surpass them and ensure our name was recognized as the best in our field. On the other hand, the Sunnaks were a different story. They had only one daughter and were despicable beings—partners in my grandfather’s company, interested only in money and responsible for the death of...

"Mauro!" Mirko shouted, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"Don't shout. What do you want?" I asked, noticing he was pointing to the door.

"Grandpa?" I hadn’t heard him come in.

"Mirko, boy, you look great."

"It’s the latest trend, Mr. Warren. And you don’t have to mention it. One of your grandchildren is finally getting married, and you are more than happy—it shows. Congratulations."

"I appreciate it, but now you can leave me with my grandson. I need to talk to him."

Mirko nodded and left, leaving me alone with my grandfather. What could he possibly want now?

"I thought you were already at the farm, making sure every detail was perfect," I said, taking a sip of my drink. I noticed my grandfather had a worried expression. "What’s wrong?"

"There’s a problem."

"Problem? You know that word doesn’t exist for me. Problems are solved—nothing should stop us."

"I’m not talking about work, Mauro." He sat down, and my concern grew.

"And what is it? Today should be a happy day. Your youngest grandson is getting married. Isn’t that what you wanted?"

He remained silent, which only deepened my unease.

"Let’s see, Grandpa. What’s wrong? If you came to see me and left the farm without anyone to run it, it must be something serious."

"And it is, Mauro." He sighed and looked at me with a grave expression. "Your brother has disappeared."

He must be joking. I grabbed my cell phone without saying a word, but of course, Franco had turned it off.

"Damn!" I whispered under my breath, frustration mounting.

"Mauro, we have the international press waiting, some high-ranking guests, even the Favres and Reagans are here."

"And?" I responded, still unsure where this was heading.

"You know what will happen when they find out that the groom—my grandson!" He emphasized this, visibly upset. "Did he run away because he didn’t want to get married?"

Of course, I knew about Franco’s reluctance, but I had hoped to avoid mentioning it. I was the one who had invited the Reagans from Germany and the princes of Arabia, given my responsibility for building them a palace to their liking.

"Look, Grandpa, give me some time. I'll search for him under the rocks if necessary. But Franco is not going to make us endure this embarrassment. It will affect us greatly—he’s tarnishing our good name!"

I was resolved to drag him back myself if needed. He was going to get married; it was non-negotiable.

"Don’t even think about mobilizing the guards, Mauro. I’ve already done that quietly, and nothing has come of it. In a couple of hours, the ceremony must begin. If you take such action, the press will become suspicious. Do you want that?"

"O-of course not."

"Then you know what you need to do."

I could tell from my grandfather's serious expression that he was not joking, no matter how improbable it seemed.

"I don’t understand you," I said, struggling to grasp his request.

"Mauro, you are my greatest pride. When your father left, abandoning us, you were my rock. Now, I need you once again."

"What do you mean?" I asked, a sinking suspicion forming.

"You must marry your brother's fiancée. It’s the only way to preserve the Warrens' good name and maintain order."

I laughed, thinking he must be joking. The last time he tried to force a relationship on me, it was traumatic, and I had warned him never to meddle in my personal life again. I believed he was honoring that promise.

"I’m serious, Mauro."

"Grandpa, I clearly warned you that I would never commit to anyone again, and you gave your word that you would not interfere in my life. Did you forget that?"

"No, I haven’t forgotten. I’ve respected your wishes all these years, but this is an emergency. Our last name is on everyone’s lips. Do you want us to become the laughingstock, with our name ridiculed?"

"Grandfather..."

No, this couldn’t be happening.

"Mauro, listen to me. All you need to do is go out, present a positive image to the press, and show that you're happy. That’s it."

"And then what? Do you think I’m unaware of the contract you made with those dreadful Sunnaks, Grandpa?"

He fell silent, acknowledging the truth of my words.

"Listen, I'm not going to force you to fulfill the contract entirely. I’ll give you the time you need. Maybe you’ll come to like that girl."

"Grandpa, please..."

"Mauro, right now, the reputation of our family name depends solely on you. If you don’t want to, I won’t force you, but you already know the consequences."

Hell no! The company I’ve dedicated myself to, my reputation, the Warrens’ good name—it’s all at stake. Franco is going to pay for this when I find him.

I walked out and saw Mirko still flaunting his new outfit in front of the maids.

"Mauro? Wait, what did your grandfather want?"

I headed toward the car, and Mirko followed.

"Are you going to go to your brother's wedding like that? Tell me you’re joking."

"Mirko, can you drive and let me think? I’m about to make the worst mistake of my life." And all to preserve our family name.

"The worst mistake of your life? What are you talking about?"

"Mirko..."

"Okay, but where are we going? To the farm?"

"No, take me to a*****e that sells wedding suits. I need one."

"You're right, absolutely right. You can’t show up to Franco's wedding like that."

I didn’t respond, as I was really angry and didn’t want to take it out on him. Mirko took me to a*****e I don’t usually frequent, and I asked to see all the wedding suits they had. Mirko was clearly surprised.

"As a boyfriend?"

"Yes, Mirko, as a boyfriend. Didn’t you hear?"

I tried on several suits until I found one that I liked.

"Let’s see, let’s see. I don’t understand. Did you just buy a wedding suit? Why?"

"Why do you think, genius? While you figure it out, you can drive to the farm. Time is running out, and I don’t even know that woman."

"Which woman?"

Mirko stood there, deep in thought. As my friend, I felt he should know what was about to unfold, even if it would become public knowledge in a few hours.

"I'm going to get married," I said reluctantly, getting into the car before him.

"Ah, you're going to get married. You should have started with that. And when?" he asked, getting behind the wheel.

I checked my watch. "In one hour and 30 minutes, to be exact. So speed up."

"Huh?"

"Mirko, get moving. I don’t have time; you know I hate being late. I at least want to talk to that person and make things clear."

"What! Wait, that’s not what I think, is it?"

"Yes, that’s exactly what you think, so drive before I change my mind and take the first flight to another continent and never come back."

Mirko drove to the farm, still clearly shocked. He followed me, and while I changed into the wedding suit, he kept asking uncomfortable questions.

"And Franco? Where is Franco? He was supposed to be the groom. I don’t understand."

"What do you think? The i***t did what he always does—ran away from what he doesn’t like."

"I don’t believe it."

"But one day he will have to show up, and believe me, he’ll pay dearly for his audacity in putting our name at risk. And me, for ruining my single life."

"I know you, you hate betrayal, even from your own family, but now you..."

"I have no choice, Mirko. I don’t have a choice!"

"But it’s a Sunnak. Are you okay with that?"

I paused. It was the worst part of all—that I was marrying the only daughter of that abominable family, the ones responsible for Maya's death. I imagined their little girl was just like her father.

"You still have the open wound from Maya’s death, and they’re to blame for that. Are you really going to marry their daughter?"

I slammed my fist on the desk. Of course, I hated them, even though I hadn’t met her yet. I already despised her.

There was a knock at the door. It was the wedding organizer, who informed me that the bride was already on her way and that I needed to leave. I thanked him with my best forced smile, and now, all I had left to do was go through with this farce.

"Mauro, you still have time. You know this wedding isn’t going to work. You hate the Sunnaks. Mauro!"

"Will you shut up, Mirko? I’m finishing getting ready; there’s no turning back now."

"You’re stubborn and obstinate. You have a legion of women dying for you, and you’re going to marry the daughter of your worst enemy—all to protect your family name."

"Don’t worry, this won’t last long, Mirko. I assure you of that."

"But what about the contract? Didn’t it say it was for 10 years until they gave your grandfather a great-grandchild? Hey, Mauro! Did you hear me?! Mauro!"

I ignored him and walked out to the patio. Many guests were already there, waiting for the mysterious bride and groom. As soon as they saw me, flashes of cameras illuminated the space, and applause followed shortly after.

My grandfather approached, placing a hand on my shoulder for encouragement.

"Relax, everything will be fine. The bride is beautiful; I’m sure you’ll like her."

A Sunnak? Ha. Even if she wore the finest clothes, she could never compare to Maya.

The sound of the bride's arrival began to resonate, marking the start of my personal hell—or rather, the beginning of that woman’s hell. I was determined to make her suffer for everything Maya endured. If I had that murderer’s daughter in my grasp, I would ensure she paid for the pain she caused us. I vowed to Maya that I wouldn’t rest until the Sunnak name was erased from the city of New York.