The Don's Captive Bride

Chapter Four

The Unforeseen Bride

Five Years Later

"Thank you for agreeing to meet me Alexander, your father said he won't be available and since you're the boss, whatever decision you make is final" Harold Olson said while observing the grand hall of the Conklin mansion gleamed with elegance.

Alexander Conklin leaned back in his high-backed leather chair, a glass of brandy in his hand. His piercing blue eyes were locked on Harold Olson, the aging patriarch of the Olson Cartel, who sat across from him.

Harold shifted uncomfortably, his gray suit slightly wrinkled. He rubbed his temple before speaking again. "Alexander," Harold began, his voice had a tone of desperation and caution, "our... predicament has forced us to seek an alliance. I trust you understand the importance of unity in times like these."

Alexander swirled his brandy, the corners of his mouth lifting into a smirk. "An alliance," he repeated slowly, his tone dripping with amusement. "Tell me, Harold, why would the mighty Olson Cartel come crawling to me for help?"

Harold's jaw tightened, but he forced a polite smile. "We had a setback—some of our shipments were intercepted. It’s a temporary issue, but we need a strong partner to ensure stability in Miami."

Alexander’s gaze never wavered. "And what do I get in return?"

Harold leaned forward, his palms pressed together. "Marriage, it will be beneficial for both our cartel, and I really need this alliance, Alexander,” Harold Olson declared, his tone clipped, but his hand steady as he swirled the amber brandy in his glass.

“You’ve had your share of troubles lately, haven’t you?” Alexander remarked, his tone as cold as the ice cubes clinking in his own glass.

Harold’s jaw tightened. “We did. The DEA raid was unfortunate, but it hasn’t crippled us. We still hold influence.”

Alexander’s lips curled into a faint smirk. “Influence isn’t enough in this game, Olson. Strength is.”

Harold straightened, his weathered face hardening. “Which is why I’m here. The Olson Cartel and the Conklin Cartel together would be untouchable.”

“An alliance through marriage,” Alexander said, his tone now neutral, as if he hadn’t already pieced together Harold’s plan. He knows Harold Olson had no male heir and at his demise his son in-law would be in charge of the Olson cartel which is a good thing for his cartel.

“Yes.” Harold placed his glass on the table, leaning forward slightly. “My daughter, Lina. She’s smart, ambitious, and loyal. She’ll stand by your side as a worthy partner.”

Alexander arched a brow, his expression unreadable. He gestured to the side with two fingers, summoning one of his men. The man, a tall, lean figure, approached swiftly, holding out a silver tray with a phone on it.

“A picture?” Alexander asked.

Harold nodded and pulled up a family photo, handing the phone to Alexander.

The photo showed Harold flanked by his two daughters. Lina stood tall, her dark hair sleek and her expression sharp. She had the poise of someone well-versed in this dangerous world. But Alexander’s gaze didn’t linger on her.

His eyes shifted to the younger woman seated beside their mother—a woman with jet-black hair that framed a face he could never forget. Her deep brown eyes, even in the stillness of the photo, seemed to hold a fire that was both mesmerizing and haunting. Zoey.

Alexander’s grip on the phone tightened.

“Who is she?” he asked, his voice lower, steadier, but laced with a dangerous edge.

Harold frowned. “Lina?”

“No.” Alexander turned the phone, pointing to Zoey. “Her.”

“That’s Zoey, my younger daughter.” Harold waved a dismissive hand. “She’s…different. She’s not suited for this life.”

Alexander’s jaw tightened, his mind flashing back to five years ago. The inn. The pain in his chest, both physical and emotional. The kindness in her hands, the fear in her eyes when she found out who he was.

“Your proposal,” Alexander said, his voice like steel, “I accept it. But not with Lina.”

Harold blinked, taken aback. “What do you mean? Lina is the better choice. She—”

“I will marry Zoey,” Alexander interrupted, standing to his full, towering height.

Harold’s face went pale, his eyes widening. “Zoey? She’s—she’s not fit for this world, Alexander. Lina is more competent, more experienced. She’s dedicated to the cartel.”

“Dedicated,” Alexander repeated, his tone mocking. “Yet your cartel needed to crawl to me for help.”

Harold bristled but didn’t respond.

Alexander stepped closer, the intensity in his gaze making Harold instinctively lean back. “Zoey or no deal.”

“You can’t be serious!” Harold’s voice rose. “Lina is everything you need in a wife. Zoey wouldn’t last a day in this life. She’s…a liability.”

“Then it’s settled,” Alexander said with finality, ignoring Harold’s protests. He turned to his right-hand man. “Get my car ready.”

Harold’s face twisted into anger and desperation. “Lina—”

“Lina means nothing to me.” Alexander’s voice was blunt. He glanced back at Harold, his gaze ice-cold. “If you want my protection, my resources, and my alliance, it’s Zoey. Not her sister.”

Harold rubbed his temples, his frustration evident. “She won't agree to it”

Alexander smirked, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “She won’t have a choice.”

Harold’s fists clenched on the armrest of his chair. “This is my family, Conklin. I have the final say, so you should marry the eldest, your father would see eye to eye with me on this.”

“You have the final say, yet here you are, begging me for an alliance,” Alexander shot back, his voice calm but cutting. “You don’t have the leverage to negotiate, Olson. Either you accept my terms, or you walk out of here with nothing.”

Harold glared at him, his face red with suppressed rage. “Lina—”

“Is irrelevant,” Alexander snapped. He poured himself another glass of brandy, the sound of the liquid filling the glass punctuating the silence. “Zoey. Or no deal.”

Harold’s shoulders slumped slightly as he realized the futility of arguing further.

As Harold left the room, the door closing with a soft click, Alexander stood in silence, his mind consumed by the thought of the woman who had haunted his dreams for the past five years.

“Zoey Olson,” he murmured, his lips curling into a determined grin. “You’re finally mine.”