Four

Sebastian’s POV

I sit in my office, my gaze shifting to different parts of the office as I tap the heels of my right foot repeatedly on the tiled floor.

Different thoughts racing in my mind but it’s not about the stack of organized files sitting on my desk in front of me.

I look again at the walls lined with dark mahogany rich and polished to a gleam. Shelves filled with leather-bound books, many of which had likely never been opened, loomed over the massive desk at the far end of the room.

My eyes shift to the grand portrait of my father hung above the desk, his stern expression serving as a constant reminder of the legacy I’m expected to uphold.

Despite the large breathable space of the office, I feel suffocated.

Everything in the office screams wealth and power almost in an oppressive way.

It's something I grew up with, something I’m used to but even after how many years sometimes it feels suffocating.

And I am soon to inherit all of it, that is if I comply to their request.

The atmosphere of the office grows thicker by the minute as I’m reminded of what I have to do in order not to lose my inheritance to my brother Andrew.

I reach for my tie, loosen it, unbutton the first two buttons of my shirt and hoped it would do something to stop my throat from feeling like the air inside me was being squeezed out of my lungs.

After months of excuses, my parent’s patience ran out pretty quickly and they propose that I marry, Clara the daughter of a business partner.

“She’s such a sweetheart and would make a good wife for you Sebastian” my mom said the day Clara dropped by to introduce herself on my parent’s request.

I would rather die alone than marry that cunning little woman. Her innocent smile is full of mischief and masks the wicked thoughts in her head however she cannot hide it from me.

My parents gave me and one week ultimatum to provide a bride for them or I would be forced to marry Clara in order to keep my inheritance.

Unfair if you ask me but I’m at their mercy and now I’m forced to look for a miracle before Sunday which is when the ultimatum would run out.

It's already Wednesday and I’m getting anxious. I told Dice, my best friend about my predicament and he suggested we hire someone to play pretend.

I despise Clara so much that I’m willing to marry a stranger to avoid walking down the aisle with her.

I suck in a deep breath and stop tapping my foot nervously. I lean forward on my desk and rest my head on the large desk in front of me.

A wave of grief mixed with guilt wash over me as the thought of my one true love Elizabeth cross my mind. Elizabeth, the love of my life was taken to soon from me.

If she hadn’t died so soon we’d be married already and I wouldn’t have to even think of hiring a fake girlfriend.

I raise my head and drag my palms across my face rubbing my eyes that felt like they were burning as tears threatened to form.

My heart ache again at the thought of her. Elizabeth’s smile, her body, her hair, voice, smell everything was so perfect. I exhale exhaustedly trying to calm my hurting soul but it is hard.

It’s been month since she died and every day since feels incomplete without her.

I leaned back in my chair, staring blankly at the ceiling, and the memory of her laugh came flooding back. A soft, musical, like the wind through an open window on a summer day.

I could almost see her now, sitting across from me, smiling that playful smile that made everything feel lighter. She’d always tease me when I was stressed, reach across the table to take my hand, and say, “Sebastian, you take everything too seriously.”

God, she was right. With her, nothing ever felt too heavy. I could breathe when she was around.

I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing I could hear her voice again. The last time we were together, we sat in the park, her head resting on my shoulder as the sun set, casting the world in a warm, golden glow. “Promise me we’ll do this forever,” she whispered.

And I had. I’d promised her forever. But forever had ended the moment she didn’t come home that night.

The thought twisted the knife of grief deeper into my chest.

“ If she were still here, I wouldn’t be in this mess. We would’ve been married by now. I wouldn’t have to face this ridiculous ultimatum or even think about Clara. I’d have Elizabeth, my Elizabeth and everything would’ve been perfect”. I mumble with my head hung low.

But instead, all I had was the hollow ache of what could have been.

My painful train of thought is brought to an halt by the sound of my phone ringing. It is Dice calling.

Stephany’s POV

It’s another exhausting day as I wake up and prepare to go to work. The café, where I’ve worked for years, is my saving grace. It’s the job that keeps Elise and me afloat—barely. But even as I pull on my uniform, the weight of our situation presses down harder, like a hand tightening around my chest. It’s not enough. It’s never enough.

I woke up earlier than usual today, so I decide to kill some time by searching for more jobs. Something, anything to keep Don Mario’s goons off our doorstep for another month. I settle on the couch, my laptop balanced on my knees, and crack open a can of Monster. The cool bitterness does little to wake me up, but at least it helps drown out my growing sense of dread.

I scroll through endless job listings, ones I’m not qualified for or ones that clash with my current schedule. I sigh and drop my head back on the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling. The anxious feeling is creeping in again, tightening in my chest like a slow, inevitable storm.

I squeeze my eyes shut and whisper a quiet prayer. God, if you’re listening… please help me. I don’t know what else to do.