Fate
1223 Words
Hasan sat alone in his darkened room, the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the tall windows. His broad shoulders tensed beneath his black shirt as he leaned back against the headboard, his mind racing.
He couldn’t stop thinking about her.
Alina.
The girl he had bumped into earlier in the hallway.
Her delicate face, those wide, innocent brown eyes, and the soft curve of her lips — it had been burned into his mind from the moment their eyes met.
Hasan’s hand brushed across his jaw. He let out a frustrated breath, his brows furrowing.
Why the hell am I thinking about her?
It didn’t make sense. He had met countless beautiful women — models, heiresses, actresses — but none of them had ever made his heart skip the way it had when he saw her.
But he went back to a thought that his father will marry Alina.
Hasan’s jaw tightened. He sat up and rubbed the back of his neck, his muscles coiled with tension.
Just then, a soft knock sounded on the door.
“Come in,” Hasan said.
The door creaked open, and the housemaid Rusing peeked inside.
“Sir Hasan, your father requested you to join him for breakfast tomorrow morning,” she said politely.
Hasan’s expression darkened. “Did he say why?”
Rusing hesitated. “He said… it’s about Alina.”
Hasan’s eyes narrowed. “Of course it is.”
Meanwhile, Alina sat nervously in Mr. Drawson’s grand office.
The room was lined with dark wood paneling, shelves of leather-bound books, and large glass windows overlooking the lush garden. Mr. Drawson sat behind his mahogany desk, a warm smile playing on his face as he stirred his coffee.
“Would you like some coffee, Alina?” he asked kindly.
Alina hesitated. “I… don’t really drink coffee, sir.”
Mr. Drawson chuckled. “Tea, then?”
Alina nodded. “Yes, please.”
He gestured toward Aling Cora, who quickly left the room to prepare the tea.
Alina sat stiffly on the edge of the leather chair, her heart hammering. What does he want from me?
Mr. Drawson’s gaze softened as he studied her. “You’re very beautiful, Alina. Just as beautiful as your mother was.”
Alina’s eyes widened. “You knew my mother?”
“I saw her once in a picture brought by your father when he first step in the casino, a long time ago,” Mr. Drawson said.
Alina’s chest tightened.
Mr. Drawson leaned forward. “Do you know who Hasan is?”
Alina’s gaze lowered. “He’s… your son.”
“Yes,” Mr. Drawson nodded.
“My only child.”
Alina bit her lip.
“Why did you bring me here sir?”
Mr. Drawson’s eyes darkened slightly.
“Because Hasan needs a wife.”
Alina’s heart jumped. “A wife?”
“I’ve already decided,” Mr. Drawson said calmly.
“In three years, you will marry Hasan.”
Alina’s breath hitched. “But why me?”
Mr. Drawson’s gaze remained steady.
“Because you’re perfect for him. Hasan needs someone… gentle. Someone who isn’t after his money or power. Someone who will give him stability.”
Alina’s head spun. “But he doesn’t even know me…”
“He will,” Mr. Drawson said with certainty.
“And you will give him what he needs.”
Alina’s chest tightened painfully. “And what if I refuse?”
Mr. Drawson’s smile didn’t fade. “You won’t.”
Alina’s hands curled into fists.
“So… that’s why you brought me here?” Her voice trembled.
“To marry your son?”
“You’ll have a good life here,” Mr. Drawson said softly.
“And I’ll make sure you finish your studies.”
Alina’s breath caught. “What?”
“You can continue your nursing degree,” Mr. Drawson explained.
“But you’ll need to transfer to a more prestigious school — one owned by a business partner of mine.”
Alina’s heart pounded. “You’re… sending me to school?”
“Of course,” Mr. Drawson smiled.
“I know how hard you’ve worked. You deserve to finish your education without worrying about money.”
Alina’s eyes softened. He’s… helping me?
But suspicion still lingered in the back of her mind. Her gaze sharpened.
“Don’t you have any plans of selling my organs?” she blurted out.
Mr. Drawson froze — and then burst into deep, hearty laughter.
“Who told you that?” he chuckled, shaking his head.
Alina’s face flushed with embarrassment. “I… just thought—”
“I’m a billionaire,” Mr. Drawson said, amused.
“I don’t need to sell organs, Alina.”
Alina breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh…”
Mr. Drawson’s smile softened.
“You’re safe here, Alina. No one will hurt you.”
Alina lowered her gaze. “Thank you, sir.”
Mr. Drawson stood, walking around the desk. He gently touched Alina’s shoulder.
“Be patient with Hasan,” he said softly.
“He’s not easy to understand. But he’s a good man underneath.”
Alina’s chest tightened. “I… don’t think he likes me.”
Mr. Drawson’s gaze darkened slightly. “He will. Eventually.”
Meanwhile, Hasan sat in his room, facing the small silver-framed photograph on his desk.
It was a picture of his mother — dark-haired and elegant, her smile soft and warm.
Hasan leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees.
“Can you imagine mom, Dad is planning to marry a minor, what a shame”
he muttered while talking to his mother’s photo frame.
“He’s insane.”
His gray eyes darkened as he ran a hand through his hair.
“But… she’s beautiful,” Hasan whispered under his breath.
His gaze hardened. It doesn’t matter.
Hasan put his mom’s photograph aside and stood. His muscles tensed as he walked toward the tall window overlooking the moonlit garden.
It doesn’t matter how beautiful she is.
It doesn’t matter how innocent she looks.
Dad is losing his mind.
Hasan’s hands curled into fists at his sides.
But as he stared out into the darkness, the image of Alina’s soft brown eyes and trembling lips refused to leave his mind.
Damn it.
When suddenly the door opened, pulled him from his thoughts.
Mr. Drawson entered, his expression calm and composed. He walked toward the window, his hands tucked into the pockets of his tailored suit.
“I wasn’t expecting you,” Hasan said flatly.
“I thought it was time we had a more… honest conversation,” Mr. Drawson said. His eyes narrowed slightly.
“It’s about Alina.”
Hasan’s gaze darkened. He sat up, his jaw tightening.
“I know, Dad. If you want to marry her, then go ahead.”
“Be happy with a young wife,” Hasan added, his tone sarcastic.
Mr. Drawson laughed.
“You fool,” Mr. Drawson said.
“You are talking nonsense.” His gaze sharpened.
“It’s not me who will marry Alina. It’s you.”
Hasan’s eyes widened. “What?”
Mr. Drawson’s gaze remained steady.
“In three years, after she finishes her degree and turns 21, you will marry her.”
“She’s studying nursing,” Mr. Drawson added.
Hasan’s chest tightened. His father’s words echoed in his head.
Marry Alina?
- Writer
