The Price Of Freedom

Alessandro's POV

The alarm on the nightstand suddenly jolts to life, piercing through the quiet atmosphere and unfortunately, that of my eardrums.

I groan in pain and still with my eyes shut, struggle to find it as it only got higher in pitch. And when I eventually do, I nearly stumble out of the bed as I slam on the button hard.

What a stupid piece of—

I take a deep breath and bite my lips to stop myself from finishing that curse word. Now isn't the moment, Alessandro, you have a way better agenda ahead of you today.

Today, I finally turned twenty-six.

A huge grin spread across my lips as I stretched my sore muscles.

I can't recall how long I'd been up all night just to countdown to this big moment of my life. And what's so special about this, you say?

Well, it's the moment where I get to finally have a taste of freedom like my father had promised.

"On your 26th birthday, you'll have your freedom." He had told me one random evening while I was out on the front porch staring intensely across the courtyard, savoring the night breeze that whipped through the garden, like it was the most interesting thing I'd seen all day.

However, the truth was it was far more than that. Deep down, I was silently plotting just how high I needed to be to be able to climb over that damned fence.

And I didn't know whether he saw that right through me that night, or he just had the instincts of my eagerness to live a normal life.

But it was safe to say that, the guards outside the courtyard were tripled and I wasn't allowed to move around without my father or any of the bodyguards.

A groan escapes my lips at that memory. Yeah, he definitely saw right through me.

I narrow my eyes when something shifts in the atmosphere. It smelled sweet and a bit familiar—almost like a blend of fruits and some chicken. The same kind I had on my 18th birthday.

I blink in surprise, thinking I'm imagining things, but then as if on cue, three knocks resonated on the door, pulling me out of the bed at once.

I look down at my boxers and quickly avert my eyes around the room for my robes, throwing them over me like it was a safety precaution I needed against an incoming hazard.

"Come..." I grit through my teeth when the last button doesn't tug and let out a sigh of relief when it finally does, "in."

The door opens immediately at my command, revealing my father in a three-piece suit and a smile on his lips, which doesn't reach his eyes.

Excitement surges through me at once. He remembers. I thought he wasn't going to remember like the last three times, but he did.

But just as I'm about to say something, he clears his throat when he beckons on someone behind him, making me prompt my head to the back to peek at two maids shifting to the sides.

With their heads tucked down, they stroll into the room, bowing as they greet me. One places a tray full of smoothies and mouthwatering delicacies of all kinds, while another places three big boxes wrapped with bows on a stool.

"Whoa, what's with the foods and...boxes?" I ask with a hearty laugh, turning to my father who's dismissing the maids.

The door behind him clicks, and it's just the both of us now, the awkward silence between us finally making itself known.

Well, this is not awkward at all.

Or did he forget?

With a loop-sided grin, I reach out for the warm coffee on the table, inhaling the warmth that coats over my nostrils and cheeks.

"Congratulations, Alessandro." My father finally said, stalking over to the bed with both hands in his pockets.

I blink, a brow raised in confusion at the weird message. "Umm, thanks? Is something wrong, dad?" Maybe he doesn't have anything for me yet and feels guilty. Yes, that must be it. "It's okay if you're not throwing any grand party or—"

"Oh, of course we're having a grand party, Alessandro."

Happiness beams through me at once, but I hide it with another sip from the coffee.

"Why won't we have a grand party for your engagement?"

I choke halfway through my drink, patting my chest for the oxygen to reach my lungs again. "Enga—what are you talking about?"

"You didn't receive the email last night? Hmm, strange, I thought it went through." He asked in a cool tone like he'd just not delivered the most terrifying news known to the kind of the Morettis.

"You're joking." I point at him, bursting into laughter. "That's a good one dad. You can stop the pranks now, you really got me with that one."

Wiping a stray tear, I turn to look at him, half expecting him to see him chuckling like he'd been caught red-handed, but he just looked at me with this unimpressed, cold-stone look that sends shivers down my spine.

"What?! Engaged to who?!"

He doesn’t even look at me as he answers. “Sandra Duvall. You met her once. The blonde with the almond-shaped eyes. Her father and I finalized the deal yesterday.”

A deal.

That’s what this is all about.

My heart breaks into a million pieces at the realization.

"What...what about the—"

His eyes moved to the stool, like he knows what I'm about to say, "Those are gifts from the Duvalls. A gift for your birthday."

I laugh, but this time it sounds bitter and cold even to my own ears. "So you know what today is and you still chose what? Not only sell me off for some stupid deal, but act so indifferent like today was just any other normal day."

"Aless—"

"No, you listen to me!" I yell, throwing my hands in the air, heart racing with each word that sank into my head. Engaged to a woman? A woman that I barely even knew?

"You promised." I choked out the words, walking towards him with hatred and pain gleaming in my eyes.

He looked down at me, a muscle in his jaw ticking as he restrained whatever words he had at the back of his throat.

"You promised that I'll get my freedom today, dad!" I spat out, my eyes threatening to spill out the tears that stung from inside.

He blinks and exhales softly, finally. The gesture is cold. Impatient. Almost like he couldn't keep this up any longer. "For goodness sake, Alessandro! You’re the heir to a billion-dollar empire, not a lovesick teenager. You don’t get to choose what you want in life," He snaps, slamming his fists on the table, forcing me to jolt into silence as he continues, "Not when you represent the Moretti legacy.”

"And what if this isn't what I want? What if..." I swallow. "What if I don't want to be engaged to Sandra?"

His eyes darken at my words. "Then consider yourself not my son anymore."

My eyes widen, my hands trembling as they reach out for him as he turns his back against me, "Prepare yourself. Everything has been arranged, and will hold soon. A week from now perhaps."

Muscles throbbing, I clench my teeth, hard, feeling the tears rolling down my cheeks as I didn't find the right words to tell him.

Not after years of being shut down and reshaped to fit the son he always wanted and never the person I'd always wanted.

I'd always wanted to get engaged to someone in the future, but not just to a woman, to a….man.

My father doesn't care who I like, he doesn't even know that I don't like women at all.

Because the truth was, I'm gay.

No one knows about this secret of mine. Not even father. I planned to keep this secret until my freedom.

Until the time was finally right.

But looking at this, in my situation, there was never going to be the right time. And I'm tired…

I'm tired of hiding, pretending to be someone I wasn't.

I'm tired of hiding who I truly am.

And now I’m marrying someone I barely remember, just to keep the company blooming and free from rumours that I was in fact gay.

What an irony.

For my father, the heir to a billion-dollar corporation being gay would be a devastating scandal.

But I'm too tired to fight him. To me, it doesn't matter who I marry, it's all the same.

I sniff and rub my arm against my reddened cheeks, "Might as well spend the last of my bachelor's days tonight in a bar."