Chapter 6: I’ll Do It
(SASHA)
"I told you that the last time we talked about this." My father says, biting his jaw.
"I didn't think it was this serious," I say, looking for a trace of a joke in his face only to find none.
"Well, it is." He responds in a firm cold tone. "You have a few weeks to find a mate. If you don't, I'm afraid Angelo is gonna have to take your place."
"Angelo?" I hiss. "Why the hell would Angelo be the next in line?"
"Because your brother Jericho is way younger than you. If the men are worked up about someone as young as you taking over from me, imagine how much more they would be disappointed if they will be with Jericho stepping in." He clears his throat. "He's also single, that wouldn't help much. Angelo is older and married. The men may not like him but they will consider him stable."
Stable.
"Stable?" I retort, not realizing how my voice rises. "How is Angelo stable? He's a fucking moron and we both know that. How is that stable?"
My father stares at me for a beat then rubs his eyes. "Sasha, you keep acting like I want a part in this when the only thing I want here is for you to take over from me. That has been the plan all along, and nothing about it changed. Now you have to understand that this is what they require you to do. If you want to keep the job, then you'll have to get married before I die. There is no other way." He clears his throat and looks paler than he did when I first entered here.
I know certainly that I'm causing him extra strain, and for that, I feel a pang of guilt. But how am I supposed to help the situation? Of course, I don't want to get married. I haven't thought of it in what feels like forever. The very idea makes my skin crawl. What am I supposed to do with an omega who'll hang around me all the time? Especially one that I'm supposed to interact with as my husband?
"I've done all I can, son. Now it's your turn to do the rest. The best I can do for you now is to try to hang on for a bit longer. I don't know how long, but my state doesn't look promising." I can see his hands tremble and it then hits me that he's weaker than he lets on. "You have three weeks. Three weeks." He repeats as if I didn't hear him the first time.
The mention of that makes fear course through me. My father is the strongest man I know. He has always been. His presence always protected me, shielded me from the realities of our world. Much as I've been trained to be the next don, he's never left my side even for a day. The men did what I ordered them to do because my father backed me, well, for the most part.