Your replacing her

I shook my head, running a shaky hand through my hair. “No. No, this is insane. Sabrina is dead, and out of the blue you telling me that I am going to get married to Alessandro, replacing her like she was a pawn in this ga.....",

"That’s enough.” My father immediately growled cutting me short in mid sentence.

“No, it’s not enough!” I snapped. “You’re not even mourning her. You’re standing here, making plans like she was some bargaining chip you can swap out for a better deal. And I am a male, you now want me to get married to a fellow man” My voice broke on the last word, man... the weight of everything pressing down on my chest.

His jaw clenched, but his voice remained dangerously calm. “Sabrina’s death does not erase the responsibilities of this family. You think I want this? You think this is easy for me?” His eyes darkened, sharp as a blade. “This isn’t about you, Nikolai. It never was. It’s about ensuring our survival. You will do what is necessary.”

I let out a harsh breath, my hands curling into fists. “And if I refuse?”

His silence was my answer.

I swallowed hard, my pulse roaring in my ears. He wasn’t giving me a choice. I had known my father was ruthless, but this, this was something else entirely.

I was being backed into a corner.

And for the first time in my life, I had no way out. He wanted me to get married to a fellow man.

The reality of it slammed into me like a freight train. There was no room for grief, no space to process the fact that my sister, the one who was supposed to be standing at that altar was gone. My father had ripped away even that.

I sucked in a sharp breath, my throat burning. “You can’t just decide this for me,” I whispered, but even as I said it, I knew how useless my words were.

“I can. And I have,” my father said coldly. “The wedding is happening. You will honor this contract.”

The finality in his voice sent a chill down my spine.

I wanted to fight back, to demand why, to scream that this was wrong. But the look in his eyes told me it didn’t matter. My grief, my reluctance, my very identity, none of it mattered in the grand scheme of this deal.

This was bigger than me.

Bigger than what I wanted.

My chest felt tight, and my hands shook as I clenched them at my sides. “This isn’t about survival,” I said quietly, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. “This is about control. About your power.”

His gaze didn’t falter, cold as ever. “It’s about doing what must be done. You will do what is necessary. If you refuse, you’ll destroy everything. Your sister’s death will have been for nothing. Our family will fall apart.”

I exhaled sharply, my breath coming in ragged gasps. "And Alessandro will he accept...?" The very thought of him, standing there as if this marriage were just another business transaction, made my skin crawl.

“He will. You will marry him,” my father said firmly. “Your personal feelings don’t matter. The contract stands. You will keep our family intact. You will do your duty.”

I looked at him one last time, searching for any trace of the man I thought I knew. But the mask he wore was impenetrable, and I could see nothing but the cold, calculating eyes of the patriarch.

My heart felt like it was crumbling, piece by piece. How could it have come to this? How could I be reduced to this, without a say, without a choice?

I turned away from him then, my mind swirling, my body shaking with the realization of what was to come. There was no escaping it. Tomorrow, after Sabrina’s burial, the wedding would happen.

.....

The burial was set for the evening. A rushed affair, as if putting Sabrina in the ground quickly would erase the weight of her loss. It didn’t feel real. None of it did.

I stood near the open grave, my hands clenched at my sides, fingers stiff from the cold. The air smelled like damp earth, the sky painted in dull shades of gray, as if the universe itself had dimmed in mourning. But there were no tears. No wails of grief. Just silence. Heavy. Suffocating.

My mother wasn’t here. She hadn’t left the house since Sabrina died, shutting herself away in her grief, unable to face this moment. Maybe I envied her for that. My father stood at the head of the grave, rigid as ever, his face carved from stone. To anyone else, he looked composed, but I knew better. The tension in his jaw, the way his fingers twitched at his sides this loss affected him more than he would ever admit.

People had come, of course. Family members, business associates, people who barely knew Sabrina but had to be here for appearances. They whispered among themselves, their voices hushed, their pity like knives in my skin. What a tragedy. So young. So unexpected.

Unexpected?

I stared down at the casket, polished and pristine, a stark contrast to the dirt it would soon be buried under. Sabrina should have never ended up here. I should have stopped it. Should have done something.

The priest spoke, his voice a dull hum in the background, reciting words that meant nothing. Prayers for the dead. Promises of peace. I doubted Sabrina had found any.

When it was over, when the last shovelful of dirt was placed over her grave, people began to leave. One by one, they walked away, their duty fulfilled, their condolences spoken.

My father lingered.

I did too.

He stared at the grave for a long time, his expression unreadable. Then, finally, he spoke, his voice low. “Go and get prepared for the wedding.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I stood there, my feet glued to the cold, hard ground, staring at my sister’s grave as if somehow, I could change what had just happened.

"We have no time to waste", He added.