A Wife Needed
1323 Words
A Few Days Back!!
AUTHOR’S POV
Rowan Langston was halfway out of his office when his phone rang.
He had just shrugged into his jacket, his mind already shifting to numbers, timelines, and a client who hated being kept waiting. Meetings didn’t bother him. People did. Still, he moved with purpose, long strides carrying him down the hallway.
He had just left a meeting room and was heading toward another when his assistant hurried behind him, phone in hand.
“Sir, it’s from the estate.”
Rowan slowed.
He rarely got calls from there during work hours. His brows pulled together as he took the phone. The moment he saw the caller ID, his jaw tightened.
He answered without a greeting.
Whatever was said on the other end made his expression harden. His free hand curled slowly into a fist.
“I’m on my way,” he said and ended the call.
He didn’t explain. He didn’t need to.
“Head to the family estate,” he ordered as they walked fast toward the car.
“But sir, the client meeting in—”
Rowan stopped and turned his head slightly. Just a look.
The assistant swallowed. “I’ll inform Mr. Daniel to take charge.”
Rowan entered the car, adjusting his tie sharply like it had personally offended him. He pulled the cigar from his lips and flicked it out before the door shut. Then he reached into the side compartment, sprayed more cologne than usual, the scent filling the car.
“This better be serious,” he muttered.
———
The estate came into view, the enormous house rising ahead of him—the Langston mansion. A place Rowan had grown up in. A place he had learned to hate. It wasn’t just a house; it was the ground where he had been shaped, sharpened, and broken into the man he was now. The monster they whispered about didn’t appear out of nowhere. This place had made him.
Rowan stepped inside, his fists clenched without him realizing it. Servants lined the hall, bowing as he passed, their eyes lowered, their movements careful. He didn’t slow down. His presence alone parted the space around him as he strode toward the dining room.
It was already full.
Aunts sat stiffly in their chairs. His father was there. And of course, his ever-righteous stepmother, wearing that calm, superior look she never took off. Conversations died the moment he entered. Every head turned. Every gaze landed on him as he walked in, owning the room without trying.
Rowan nodded politely as he passed them, his attention fixed on one person.
His grandmother. The only person that mattered to him.
“Noona,” he said, stopping short.
Shock flickered across his face before he could mask it. She was seated upright, her back straight, eyes sharp despite the frailty of her frame.
The call had said she collapsed.
He bent immediately and hugged her. “I see you are alive and well.”
She chuckled, the sound dry. “Barely.”
Relief loosened something in his chest, though he didn’t let it show.
Before he could say more, hurried footsteps sounded behind him.
“Uncle Rowan!”
A girl rushed in, holding a glass of juice with both hands, her smile bright and eager. She was young, early twenties at most, her eyes sparkling as if she’d rehearsed this moment.
“Greetings,” she said sweetly. “I brought this for you.”
She placed the glass in front of him.
Rowan barely looked at it. He slid it aside without touching it.
“Mia, sit close to your uncle,” his stepmother said smoothly.
Mia’s cheeks flushed as she took the seat beside him.
Rowan’s fingers curled into his palm.
He turned back to his grandmother. “Noona, I have an important client waiting.”
Her brows lifted. “So if I’m not dying, you wouldn’t come see me?”
“That’s not what I said,” he replied calmly. “I have several projects. I was going to visit this weekend.”
She rolled her eyes. “You won’t. You’re too busy running away from your duty and gallivanting with different socialites.”
A few whispers rippled around the table.
Rowan forced a smile. “They’re work associates.”
She snorted. “Work associates that crawl into your bed without any seed.”
“Noona,” he said, his tone tightening. “That’s vulgar.”
“And truthful,” she shot back. “You say you’ll get a wife when you’re ready. Ready when? After my death?”
The room went quiet.
“I know you’ve already found a matching heart for my transplant.” His Noona’s lips trembled. “Take it back. I would rather be dead than stay alive and watch you waste your youth with no family, no wife, no child.”
Rowan moved closer, instinctively reaching out, his hand rubbing slow circles on her back. “I never said I wouldn’t get married,” he said quietly. “I just have things to put in place. I need time and…”
“Then let your cousin handle the company for now,” she cut in. “Focus on getting married.”
Rowan’s jaw tightened instantly at the mention of his cousin. His hand stilled.
“Noona, you know I don’t tolerate filth around me.”
Silence stretched. His cousin was practically staring daggers at him but Rowan didn’t care. He never had.
Then he exhaled.
“Fine,” he said. “I’ll find a wife. Can you stop delaying your surgery now?”
The table erupted in murmurs. Heads turned. Eyes widened. His stepmother exchanged a glance with one of the aunts.
His grandmother studied him for a long moment, then nodded. Tears shimmered in her eyes.
“You see?” she said softly. “It wasn’t that difficult. Your aunts and stepmother can help you.”
“Sure,” Rowan replied, already standing.
He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “I’ll see you later, Noona.”
“You’re not staying for dinner?” she asked.
“I have a client waiting,” he said. “Next time.”
As he turned to leave, an aunt spoke up. “Be a darling Rowan and Mia off on your way. We’ll be staying late. We don’t want to worry her parents.”
Rowan paused.
Then continued walking.
Mia was already on her feet, hurrying after him, a pleased grin on her face.
They got into the car. The door closed. The engine started.
“You know Grandma is very dramatic,” Mia said lightly. “She doesn’t understand that marriage is a big deal.”
Rowan didn’t respond. His head was tilted to the side, eyes closed, his patience thinning.
She swallowed, inching closer. “Not everyone is fit for you, Uncle.”
Her hand slid onto his thigh, slowly making its way up, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.
It didn’t get far.
Rowan caught her wrist mid-movement and pushed it away like it burned.
The car screeched to a halt.
“Get out,” he said coldly.
“But—”
He opened his eyes and looked at her.
She froze.
He pulled out some cash and pressed it into her hand. “This should be enough to get you home.”
Her throat bobbed. She had planned everything. Even arranged for a reporter to be nearby. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
As she reached for the door, he caught her hand again.
Hope flashed in her eyes.
“Say hi to your parents for me,” he said flatly, letting go.
She stepped out, tears spilling as the door shut behind her.
The car pulled away.
“Where to, boss?” the driver asked.
Rowan loosened his tie, breathing hard like it was choking him.
“To the club,” he said.
- Writer
