Chapter 3

(Jonathan's POV)  

  I sat on the edge of my bed as I dial the caretaker's number, my mind filled with the events of the past hour. Dealing with Bryan is always draining.  As the phone rang, my eyes drifted to the framed photograph on my bedside table.   It was a picture of my son, Bryan Jr's father and his wife, smiling and happy.   They were the picture of perfection, the embodiment of everything I had worked for.  But all that had been taken from me in an instant, in the blink of an eye, in the crash that had claimed their lives and left me a broken man.   "Good afternoon sir." The caretaker's voice echoed through the phone.   I swallowed hard the rising thoughts of my dead son, recollected my thoughts and focused on the task at hand.   "Good afternoon," I replied, my voice terse and businesslike. "I need to discuss a matter of some urgency."  The caretaker, accustomed to my no-nonsense tone, quickly agrees to meet with me. "Of course, Mr. Rodriguez," he answered. "Is there anything I should be aware of?"  I hesitated as my hand gripped the phone tighter. "My grandson will be staying at the townhouse for an undetermined amount of time,"   "Oh!" He uttered softly after a brief pause on the other end of the line.   I could almost hear the unspoken questions. Why is Bryan staying at the townhouse? What's going on?  But the caretaker, a devout and loyal employee of mine for many years, knows better than to ask. He always left me to my discretion.   "The townhouse will be ready for him," he replied instead. "I will ensure that everything is in order for his arrival."  I nodded, relieved. "Good. And please make sure that the security is increased. I want to ensure that my grandson is safe and secure while he's there."  "Okay sir," The caretaker voiced in agreement, just before I hung up the phone.   As I sat in the silence of my room, my thoughts raced. Was I making the right decision?   No! I was. I reaffirmed myself.  Bryan Jonathan Rodriguez was my only living descendant, and is my last chance at carrying on the family name, the family legacy. And I will do whatever it takes to make sure that legacy is preserved even if it means subjecting his spoiled self through a hard life and even getting him a wife.    But as I stared at the photograph of my son and his wife, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was  betraying their memory, sacrificing their son for the sake of the family name.  **** I sat in the back of my limousine, gazing out the window as we drove through the city streets.   Beside me, Bryan fiddles with the buttons on his jacket, his face a mask of annoyance and displeasure.  "This place is a dump," he grumbles. "You really are not serious about me living here, right?"  I turn to face him, my expression steely.   "Unfortunately, I am."  "You will live here, and you will learn to appreciate it."  "Yea, right!" he answered with a sneer on his lips.  "One more thing," I added, my voice low and serious. "The girl you're marrying, her name is Emelda and she knows nothing of your family or your wealth. As far as she's concerned, the man she is getting married to is a regular man, living a regular life.  Bryan scoffs. "Why the secrecy? If she knew who I was, she'd be begging to marry me."  I shook my head. "You've missed the point, Bryan. I'm tired of the numerous ladies you bring home every night. They are obviously all mongers. I want a lady who would love you genuinely, not for what you have.   Bryan rolls his eyes, unconvinced. "Whatever,"   I smiled, my expression grim. "Remember, getting married to Emelda is one part of the deal. The other important part of the deal is to get me an heir."   "How am I to do that? What if I don't find this so-called wife attractive?" Bryan asked, rolling his eyes.   "Then you will have to learn to find her attractive," I replied, my voice sharp and clear. "And if you can't, well, that's when the real test begins."  Bryan looks at me, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. "What are you getting at?"  I ignored his question, my gaze steady. "I'm leaving you here to settle in."   "Settle in?" Bryan exclaimed. "There's nothing to settle into! This place is a dump! Just look at the environment."  I reached for the door handle. "Be that as it may, this is your home now. You better begin to love your new life, if you don't, you will remain in it for a long time.   Bryan glared at me through the opened door. "I'm not some prisoner," he said. "You can't keep me here against my will."  I smiled again, my lips curling into a cruel, tight smile. "Oh, but I can, Bryan. And I will."   "I'm going to pick up Emelda," I announced, my voice hard and unforgiving. "And when I bring her back here, I expect you to behave like a gentleman. Show her the respect she deserves, and some light affection. Remember, your inheritance is on the line" I added.  Bryan's jaw clenched, but he said nothing.  "Good," I replied, just before turning to the driver. "Take me to the bus park where I can take a commercial bus.  Then afterwards, you can leave. I will call you when I need you."  The car engine roared smoothly as the driver turned on the ignition.   As we drove away from the neighborhood, I glanced back at the townhouse, a cold satisfaction filled me.   Let the game begin, I said softly with a smile on my lips.