Game of fate

Prologue The last thing Douglas Portman saw was the fate of his future hanging in the threshold of the wind, forced to tip the scales of his own destiny. --- August 15, 1995 It was a blissful day for everyone, especially for the Portman and Lane families as they expanded their relationship and enterprise through the union of their children, Douglas Portman and Vivian Lane. As elites, it was a wedding of the century—at least for Vivian. I watched the two-faced heiress put on her best smile as usual, playing the role of an angel as she walked down the aisle. My stomach churned in disgust. I knew Vivian had a way of getting whatever she wanted, but this was by far her best victory. What was I thinking? She is the only child of Christian and Penelope Lane. Don't get me wrong, Uncle Lane is an angel and has always been my role model, but he was unfortunate to have a witch of a daughter. Finally, at the altar, Vivian flashed me a smile of satisfaction. This marriage was Vivian's idea. She was the golden child no one ever doubted. Vivian knew convincing my dad wouldn't be a problem as long as it involved expanding the Portmans' influence and staying at the top of the social circle. He was down for it. I got distracted from my thoughts as the priest said, “Do you take Vivian Lane as your lawfully wedded wife, in health and in wealth?” I interrupted the priest, saying, “I do.” I wasn't interested in the cringeworthy words because I would be lying if I said I cared about Vivian in the slightest. As the priest came to the end of the vows, I growled in frustration—there was no going back from here. As the priest said, “I pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss your bride,” I looked at Vivian. She flashed me a mischievous smile of satisfaction and accomplishment as she leaned in to kiss me. The urge to wipe that smile off her face was strong. As much as I hated Vivian, I couldn't deny the fact she was an attractive young lady with her eyes and blonde hair. But that was all there was to her. --- Wedding Reception The wedding reception was a spectacle: Tables adorned with fine china, crystal glasses, and crisp linens. ,Candelabras and flower arrangements that seemed to defy gravity. ,A majestic ice sculpture that shimmered like diamonds. ,A live band performing on a gleaming stage. A champagne fountain that flowed like liquid gold. ,A decadent dessert table that rivaled a pastry shop,A dazzling light show that synchronized with the music. Guests indulged in a gourmet feast, savoring dishes crafted by world-renowned chefs, paired with fine wines and champagnes. The dance floor was a whirlwind of glamor, with designer gowns and tailored suits twirling to the rhythm. I couldn't help but think to myself, did I make the right choice picking my inheritance over my lover? As the orchestra began to play "Somewhere My Love" by The Ray Conniff Singers, I smiled at the thought of Christine in a floral dress, her ginger hair dancing and twirling to the rhythm. Her hair moved in sync with the music, smiling like a gentle breeze on autumn leaves, her smile as bright as the summer sky with a fresh fragrance like that of lavender—calming and soothing. The smell of sweet, rich caramel with a hint of cinnamon lingered in the background, a perfect combination of fall and winter—warm, cozy, and peaceful. I was distracted by my thoughts as I heard Mr. Lane calling my name from a distance. “Douglas,” he said, “come say hi to the guests.” Time went by, and the wedding was finally over. I was still married. My parents had booked us a honeymoon vacation in Venice. We finally arrived back at Portman Manor in the beautiful refinement of Mayfair. I was still learning to tolerate Vivian. --- A Year Later It had been a year since I last heard from Christine. After I called her into my office to end things, she was left heartbroken, tears rolling down her face as she dashed out. Watching her that way made my heart ache, but I convinced myself my sacrifice would pay off. Now it had, but a part of me was still missing. Christine was a beautiful young lady, exuding grace and elegance. Her features were defined and delicate; she carried herself with poise and confidence, making everyone around her feel at ease and joyful. She was everything I ever wanted in a woman. Despite her average background, she did not hunger for fame, wealth, or power but for the simplest things in life. My father didn't approve because she was a mere secretary, not an elite. --- A Letter from Christine One day, my secretary walked in. “Sir, you have a letter from Christine Armstrong.” I snatched the letter and read through it. December 10, 1996 _I hope this letter finds you well. I am writing to share some significant news with you. As you know, our relationship ended some time ago, but I have since discovered that I was pregnant with our child. Our son, Dominic, was born on June 15, 1996, and has brought immense joy to my life._ _I have made the difficult decision to relocate to the United States, specifically to New York City, in pursuit of a better life for myself and our child. This was not an easy choice, but I believe it is in the best interest of our child's future and well-being._ _I understand that this news may come as a shock to you, and I want to assure you that I am willing to facilitate communication and updates about our child's life. If you are interested in being a part of our child's life, I encourage you to reach out to me and we can discuss the details._ _Please know that I wish you no ill will and hope that you can find it in your heart to be supportive of our child's well-being, even if we are no longer together._ _Yours faithfully,_ _Christine Armstrong_ --- An outburst of excitement filled my heart, but just as quickly, a cloud of sadness overshadowed it. I would not be part of my son's life. This was to keep Christine and Dominic safe because if my father found out, I didn't know what his reaction would be. I couldn't help but wonder what he looked like. I hoped he took after his mother's beauty. I received a call. It was Vivian. My excitement faded away as anger and disgust filled my stomach. God, that woman was a demon sent from hell to ruin my life. I took the call and then responded to the letter. --- Years Passed Years went by, and Vivian and I had two children—a boy and a girl. Christine and I kept communicating because of our child. I made sure Dominic never lacked anything. Although he went by his mother's name, Dominic Armstrong, he knew he had a rich father somewhere. I ensured he lived the life of a trust fund kid. For his 17th birthday, I got him a brand new black Ferrari 458 Italia. On that day, I also told Christine I wanted to be part of his life and bring him back to Portman Manor on his 18th birthday. She was reluctant at first, but eventually, she gave in. --- Dominic’s 18th Birthday A year later, on his 18th birthday, the day had come to bring Dominic into Portman Manor to claim his rightful place as the son of Douglas Portman, Chairman of Portman Enterprises and Group. I felt a rollercoaster of emotions—my heart soared with joy but also ached with sadness. I was excited about what was next but also nervous about the unknown. I had spent years apart from my son, and now my emotions were playing a game of tug-of-war, pulling me in opposite directions. I was trying to find the balance between excitement and fear, embracing the ups and downs that lay ahead.