Stuck With Me

Dominic had always known one truth: control was everything. It wasn't just the key to business-it was the key to life. In a city like Nirvana, where success was measured by influence and power, he had it all. Aurelia International, his brainchild, was a testament to that power. He was the King-and the world treated him like royalty. But, as always, the throne was lonely.

He'd managed to perfect the art of detachment-especially when it came to women. Relationships were a game. Contracts with a set expiration date. No strings, no emotions. Easy.

That is, until the night his father, Alex, decided to drop a bombshell on him.

The door to Luxe Life Villa creaked open, and Maurice stepped inside, shedding the weight of his day. His crisp suit was slightly rumpled, his face marked by the kind of exhaustion only a man who lived in his office could understand.

"Hey, Mom," he called out as he removed his shoes. "I'm late, I know. The day got away from me."

Josephine appeared almost instantly, a soft smile on her face as she closed the distance between them. "You're just in time. Your father's waiting for you in the library."

Dominic nodded, offering her a brief but genuine smile. His mother's warmth was always a comfort in the midst of his chaos. But as he walked toward the library, something gnawed at him-an unshakable feeling that tonight wouldn't be like the others.

When he entered, his father was sitting in his usual armchair, the shadows of the evening falling across his face. There was no welcoming grin, no usual gesture. Just a folder in his hand, a silence that stretched too long.

Dominic raised an eyebrow. "You wanted to see me?"

Alex didn't respond right away. He just gestured to the chair opposite him, an invitation that felt more like an order.

Dominic's steps were slow, deliberate, as he took his seat, but something in the air felt... wrong. His father wasn't looking at him. His gaze was focused on the folder, and Dominic felt the tension crackle between them like an electric current.

Finally, after what felt like hours, Alex spoke. "It's time, Maurice."

He frowned. "Time for what?"

Alex didn't look up, but his words were firm. "For you to face reality. For you to stop running from it."

Dominic shifted in his seat. He hated vague answers, especially from his father. Alex had always been a man of few words, but when he spoke, it was usually to tell him something he didn't want to hear. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Alex sighed and pushed the folder toward him. "You need to get married."

Dominic stared at the folder as if it might explode at any moment. "Married?" His voice was incredulous, too loud for the otherwise calm room. "Why would I...?"

Alex interrupted him with a sharp look. "Because it's time. You've built an empire, Dominic. And that's fine. But you can't keep living this way. Work, work, work. You can't do it forever. You need something more. You need a family."

Dominic let out a harsh laugh, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet room. "Family? You're telling me I need a family? Is that what this is all about?"

His father's eyes finally lifted from the folder, meeting his son's gaze. The usual sternness in his face had softened-replaced by something Dominic had never seen before: vulnerability. "Yes, Dominic. I need to know that when I'm gone, you won't be alone. That you won't waste everything I built by drowning yourself in business. You need someone."

Dominic shook his head, disbelief written all over his face. "I'm fine, Dad. I don't need someone to complete me. You taught me that. I can manage perfectly well on my own."

The silence in the room grew heavy, like a storm cloud ready to burst. Finally, Alex's voice was quieter, but there was no denying the seriousness in his tone. "No. You're wrong. You're not complete. And you won't be until you have someone by your side. I'm asking this for me. For your mother. And for you."

Dominic's throat tightened, and for the first time, he felt the weight of his father's words sink into him. But still, he couldn't accept it. "I don't want to get married, Dad. It's not for me. It's a distraction. I can't afford distractions."

Alex didn't blink. "Then what about Freya?"

Dominic froze. The name felt like a slap in the face. Freya-his childhood friend. The girl who had broken his piano when they were younger. The piano his uncle had given him-the only link to the man who had truly understood him.

"You're out of your mind," Dominic spat. "Freya? Are you serious? After what she did to my piano? After everything?"

Alex's gaze softened, but there was no trace of apology in his expression. "You've known her your whole life. She's always been there. I think you're afraid of what's right in front of you. You can't keep running from the things that matter, Dominic."

Dominic's chest tightened. "Freya and I are not a thing. She's a mess. She's careless. And I'm not... I'm not marrying someone like her."

Alex leaned forward, his tone changing. "You have five days, Dominic. Five days to figure this out. I don't care who you choose-but I need you to do it. If you don't come back to me in five days with someone-anyone-I will hold you to your word. You'll marry Freya."

Dominic's blood ran cold. "You can't be serious."

"I am," Alex said simply, the finality in his voice leaving no room for argument. "You'll marry her. Or you'll marry someone else. But you'll do it."

Dominic stood up, fury simmering in his veins. He couldn't believe this was happening. He couldn't believe he was even hearing these words. But there was no arguing with his father now.

"You've got two days, Dad. Not five. Two. If I don't have someone by then, you can consider it done." Dominic turned sharply on his heel, his pulse thundering in his ears.

Alex's eyes followed him. There was no smile, no sign of victory. Only a quiet sadness. "Two days. And if you don't, Freya will be your wife. You have my word."

Dominic slammed the door behind him, the echo reverberating in the empty house. He was already heading to the Luxury Bar, where his best friend, Jake, would be waiting. He needed a drink. Or several.

Tonight had just become the first of many battles he didn't want to fight.