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Treacherous
Treacherous
Author: Sia Brown

Prologue

Alan's POV

“Well, I can’t say she’s the best choice for you, but I do know that she’s better than most of our other options.”

Seated across my father, my mother gazed out of the glass that separated the street from the inside of the restaurant with evident disappointment etched on her face. For a couple who were always perceived as being like-minded, my parents surely weren't on the same page on several occasions. Today was no different.

Realising that he was nowhere close to winning her approval on the matter, his shoulders slightly slumped down. He looked visually defeated but he was much prideful to give up so soon. I reckoned that was something I always had in common with him and I was yet to be sure if it were a good or a bad thing.

“I don't have a good feeling about this, Kevin.” She said, refusing to look at any of us. “He’s in such a dangerous and tiring field already. Don’t you think he deserves to choose his own wife? Someone, he’ll be spending the rest of his life with?”

“Given the circumstances, Nat, I think it’s a sacrifice he has to make if he wants to keep his life.” My father forced the words out of his mouth, declaring how he disapproved of my circumstance just as much as my mother did.

Heaving a loud sigh, her light green eyes flickered back to my father, who was nervously tapping against his wine glass. Seated by his side, I had a clear view of my mother's indignation. The softness in her eyes that generally oozed of motherly affection just about vanished that instant.

"What you-" Her eyes flickered between the both of us, "-are suggesting is immoral and unfair to the people involved. You can't save yourself by offering another."

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Natalie, nobody is dying!" My father pushed the glass aside and grew rigid beside me. "The whole point of this scheme is to ensure everybody stays safe. I am not doing this because I think it's right. I'm doing this because I think it's necessary."

"Why, it must be convenient for you to solely think of our son in this situation. Are you even remotely guilty of what you're going to inflict on that poor girl? I like her, Kevin, she's lovely. I would've loved to have Alan marry somebody like her but not like this. I can't allow it. She doesn't deserve it."

"I do not understand it - how are her parents okay with this?" My sister, Sasha, probed.

"They don't care, darling. As long as we're wealthy, they simply don't care."

"I'd say it's a win-win because she's obviously not going to find anybody better than our son given her good-for-nothing father." My dad scoffed.

Mom's eyes widened and a look of disbelief took over her, "I can't believe you said that. What is wrong with you? You are not doing her any favour by deceitfully getting our son married to her. The fact that Alan is an amazing man doesn't make up for anything."

"Can you stop pretending as though I'm the villain here? I told you - we have no choice. If I could, I would avoid it. But we literally have no choice left. Alan has to stay on this mission. For once, can't you see the bigger picture?"

"Of course, you always play that card," Sasha muttered from beside my mother and scoffed.

Utterly dejected, my father leaned back into his chair and grumpily looked out the window. He might lure an entire terrorist gang into a trap but his power stood no chance against these two women seated before us. My mother and sister were the two forces that I would label as invincible.

This was the conversation we had been having for over a week now. This was precisely why I didn't ever want to get married. In a family, you cannot make decisions for yourself, it's no longer about just you. While I'm thankful for the family that I've got, I knew that my line of work demanded solitude.

I did not need any hindrance in my path. It was my life, and I wanted to live it on my terms. There was simply no room for weakness. I couldn't afford to fall prey to that.

I ran my eyes over the three of them and realised that they were indeed at a cross junction where everybody believed that they were right in their own place. I couldn't blame them for making this an inconvenient family meeting. This argument was about me, all of them were merely looking out for me. The least I could do was try to resolve it on my own.

"Would it help if I said I have no problem with getting married to her?"

I didn't need to hear a verbal answer when two pairs of glaring eyes shot toward me.

"Oh, come on, do you have a better idea?"

"Well, for starters, if you're so hell-bent on getting married," Sasha started, "I would suggest you find a nice girl, take her out for dinner and see if you're interested in the same kind of future. And then, if all goes well, you fall in love and get then married."

I glared back at her. "Yes, well, it's a great plan, but I need to be alive for all of that to happen."

"It's not like you're dying now."

"Not right now, but soon, if the word gets around that I lied to him about it. If he discovers that I'm not married, Sasha, you might as well consider me dead because he will stand anything but dishonesty."

"Alan, what have you gotten yourself into?" My mother grabbed her temples and gently rubbed on them. Gone were her anger and vexation, instead, she was now beginning to show signs of utter worry and sadness.

My heart fell. I hated seeing my mother like this. She could be strong like a rock but when it came to things she cared deeply about, like her family, she had absolutely no control over her emotions. I can always count on her to imagine the worst outcome in any situation and purposefully inflict unnecessary pain on herself.

When asked to change that habit of hers because it was both unhealthy and self-destructive, she merely stopped being vocal about it. That was an even worse thing.

My father had perhaps noticed the sudden change in her mood because before I could offer any comfort, he reached out to clasp her hands within his. Giving them a gentle squeeze, he ran soothing circles over her skin. "Honey, it's going to be alright. We got this."

"No, we don't." She groaned, "This is bad news. Really bad."

"I know," I said in a low tone. "But Mom, we always survive. This is nothing compared to what we've fought against in our past."

"I know we'll survive." She gave me a blank look, "But will she?"

"She's strong." I said, "If it's a matter of survival, then yes. I will take a bullet for her if I have to."

"But morally speaking, it is very, very wrong." Sasha moaned in disapproval, "Can you please, for a second, consider it from her perspective? When she comes to know of it, she's going to be devastated. She likes you, Alan. She might even agree to marry you if she's talked into it, but she's going to hate you forever. You'd be exploiting her feelings for you."

"I know, I know." I clasped my eyes shut and grimaced. When I opened them, I couldn't help but look annoyed, "I hate it too, Sasha. I care about her too. I know she's going to hate it, but I'm trying to see the bigger picture here. It took me a lot of time to ignore all the red flags, but I've made up my mind. I need to do this. You know how important it is for me to stay alive and finish what I started."

"Mrs.Hedger, what a surprise!" A familiar voice greeted my ears from a distance and I didn't need to look back to know who was approaching us. Shit.

"Mrs.Windsor, how lovely to meet you." My mother grinned from ear to ear, gazing over my shoulder to acknowledge Mrs.Windsor's arrival.

"Likewise," I heard her say and her voice was much louder this time than last time, it only explains that she was closer to me now.

Once she came to stand by our table, I noticed that her lips were already pulled into an enthusiastic smile. If I didn't know her better, I would've believed that that smile was indeed genuine.

"We thought it'd be great for all of us to have a family brunch, you know, as it had been so long since the four of us went out like this." My mother said.

"Of course! Rachel loves family brunches too." She said. "We really miss her when she's away and whenever she comes to London, we make sure she has a wonderful time with us. Rachel is quite fond of spending time with us too."

"Of course," I smiled at her in approval but inwardly, I could feel myself shaking my head at her.

I knew Rachel enough to know that she absolutely hated being with her family and all the love that Mrs.Windsor was trying to portray for her daughter was nothing but an act. A poorly executed one. But luckily for me, Mrs.Windsor admired me too much to detect the sarcasm in my voice.

"Alan, how nice to meet you." She said, "Rachel can't wait to see you tomorrow. She's clearly holding her breath."

"Is she?" I highly doubted that after my previous encounter with her.

"Of course."

"Well, I can't wait either." I smiled.

"We'll see you tomorrow then?"

"I'll pick her up at 8."

"I will let her know." She nodded enthusiastically. There was a different gleam in her eyes now, as though she had been victorious. It was only then that her intention of running into us was clear to me. She needed reassurance that I was not backing out from this. "Well, it was lovely meeting you all. I hope to see you all very, very soon."

"Likewise," My father added. Thankfully, Mrs.Windsor seemed satisfied with what she extracted from us and left us after politely paying her regards. When she was out of hearing range, I heard my mother groan.

"I hate that woman." My mother muttered and went for her glass of white wine.

"Me too." My sister asserted and rolled her eyes at Mrs.Windsor's retreating figure. "Poor Rachel. Having to oblige her every word."

"I can't say I'm not thankful for that when I know that's what is getting her married to Alan." My father said from my side. It was a poor joke on his end and this time, I joined my mother and Sasha to glare at him. Realising what he had done, he held his hands up in surrender, "Only joking. Sorry."

"Bad joke, that was," Sasha said before her eyes flickered over to meet mine. Raising her brow as if she was challenging me, she asked, "So it's happening then? You're going to do this?"

"I am, yes."

As a sign of absolute defeat, I heard my mother mutter under her breath, "Well, let's all pray we don't end up in hell for this."

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