EPISODE FIVE
1291 Words
LINA'S PERSPECTIVE
When I entered the room, there was still smoke rising from the fireplace. Like the past snatching its way back into the present, it smelt of secrets and burnt wood.
The lengthy table resembled a battlefield. With his dark eyes and steepled fingers, my father sat at the head. tense. made a decision. This was not a war of bullets, but rather one of readiness. The silent, signature type
Everyone was already there: my mother, poised and aloof, looking at the empty chair next to me as if she already knew who occupied it; Uncle Roland; my older brother, Emil, with that familiar frown; and two strangers in fancy suits.
Before anyone spoke, I sensed it. It was a gut-wrenching twist in my stomach. There was an instinct that danger wasn't approaching, a feeling that comes just before something breaks. It had already arrived.
The door then opened.
Then he entered.
Weber Niklas.
He was dressed in black. No tie. As if this were merely another business meeting rather than the start of the end.
Halfway through my throat, my breath caught.
He didn't even give me a look. Not once. I simply gave my father a nod, acting more like coworkers than rivals. then took a seat. Be calm. Written. chilly.
The father cleared his throat.
"Lina." The Webers will be signing a contract with the König family," he stated. It's a political partnership. An essential one.
What?
My voice was tight as I blinked. "A contract?"
Emil folded his hands and leaned forward as if he were the voice of reason. "A contract for marriage."
My heart thumped.
I looked back at Niklas. So far, there has been no response. He has not yet acknowledged me. He sat as if I weren't real, as if this were all business.
A contract for marriage?
To him?
I wanted to chuckle. Or shout. Or toss something. However, I didn't. I sat motionless.
"Why him?" Even though I already knew, I asked.
Father stated in a flat, emotionless voice, "Because the Webers control the military side of our operations." "We're bleeding out without them. On one stipulation, Niklas consented to the union.
Everybody looked at him.
Niklas turned back to us after standing slowly and moving to the window as if he had endless time.
"I desire complete authority over the König family's private properties. Every export. Every penny. No enquiries were made.
My jaw fell open. What I was hearing was unbelievable.
"No," I said, trembling. That's all there is to it. Our ancestry is there. Our heritage.
At last, Niklas's eyes met mine. Sharp and cold.
"Then refuse," he said. "Go now. But when your empire fails, don't come crashing down.
Emil hit the table with his palm. Lina, this issue isn't about you. The issue has to do with legacy. about preserving what belongs to us.
Without even glancing at me, my father continued, "This is about survival."
The floor seemed to have disappeared beneath me. Like a storm, my thoughts were loud, relentless, and unstoppable.
I am a pawn. a price label. A customised solution.
Niklas doesn't even want me. He desires authority. He desires retribution.
I gazed at the contract as if it were a death sentence. The contract was clean, crisp, and unaltered. My name is already on the queue and is awaiting a signature.
"Why me?" I muttered.
Niklas's mouth clenched. Something flickered through his eyes: anger, regret, something. However, his tone remained icy.
"Because five years ago you destroyed me." And now? You'll assist in fixing it.
I felt sick to my stomach.
It wasn't business.
It was a personal matter.
I got up and raised my voice. "You believe your pride will be restored by marrying me?"
He moved slowly and deliberately across the room. His voice sounded like a slap despite being low.
"No. The game is won by marrying you.
Across the table, I slapped the contract. "This is extortion."
He didn't recoil. "It's business."
My father yelled, "Lina."" Sign it."
"What if I don't?"
"You're not here."
As simple as that.
My relatives. My name. Everything I was brought up to defend.
Lost.
I grabbed the pen.
My hand trembled.
I put my signature there.
I had the impression that I was engraving my name on a tombstone.
Slowly, the room drained. Emil walked away silently. My mum didn't turn around. After whispering something to Niklas, the strange men vanished. My dad didn't even stay long enough to bid me farewell.
Niklas remained motionless.
Numb, I stood there.
Silence fell hard when we were alone. He had not yet approached.
At last, I said something. "Are you punishing me with this?"
Then he turned to face me. looked closely. This time, don't smirk. A long, unreadable stare.
Hold on.
The smirk then appeared.
"No," he replied. "My goal is to win."
Then he was gone. As if I had already been forgotten.
I sat with the window open in my room later that evening. I didn't close it even though the chilly air pricked my skin. I needed the sting. Something tangible to help me stay grounded.
I repeated what he had said. His gaze. He appeared to possess everything as he stood there. As though I were merely a pawn in his scheme.
Perhaps I was.
I reflected on that summer. It was five years ago. The one who made all the difference. I prioritised my family over him. I told him that he wasn't sufficient.
Perhaps I assumed he would move on.
Perhaps I believed I had time to correct it.
Niklas, however, never forgets. And now I was the one who had to pay for it.
He couldn't hate me forever, I told myself.
However, tonight... I wasn't entirely certain.
There's a knock.
I went cold.
I remained silent.
Still, the door opened.
Niklas.
Like he belonged, he stepped in. As if he didn't require authorisation.
I got to my feet. "Your room is not here."
"No," he said coolly. "But it will be."
"What are you looking for?"
"To converse."
"Then speak."
Leaning against the door as if it were a simple negotiation, he closed it behind him.
He declared, "I remember everything."
"I do, too."
He moved in closer. "Remember what you said when we last shared a kiss?"
I took a deep breath. "That my family would always come first."
"Yes," he said, his voice now darker. "You did."
He approached. Too near. In my chest, my heart beat like a war drum.
"Will you kill me or kiss me?" I enquired.
He grinned. "Perhaps both."
He then gave me a kiss.
Hard. Furious. As if he detested every moment of it.
I returned the kiss.
As if I still desired him. As if it didn't matter that it was a bad idea.
As if he couldn't decide whether to push me away or draw me in, his hands tightened around my waist. Mine clung to his shirt as if he might disappear once more.
Then abruptly he retreated.
Taking deep breaths. My eyes met his.
He cautioned, "Lina, don't fall for me again." "Because this time, I'm not falling with you."
And he left as before.
No farewell. Without hesitation.
Simply gone.
Two weeks from now is the wedding.
Furthermore, I'm not sure if I'm marrying the ghost of the boy I once loved, my adversary, or my punishment.
However, I am aware of this:
Niklas has changed.
Nor am I.
We're not going down the aisle in love.
We're heading in a completely different direction.
Furthermore, I'm not sure if we'll survive.
Because we could burn everything down if we're not careful.
even before we say I do.
- Writer
