Surrogate for Hire

The essential rule of survival is to keep your fears hidden; displaying them only serves to give them greater power over you.

Dreads settles in as he descends the stairs.

I am aware of what I have done, but unless he threatens my life, he will never be able to control me.

I took a trembling breath in an attempt to calm my racing nerves, but I should have known that he would never compromise my life.

He came to a halt by the stairs and gave me a disgusted look.

"Leave; you are no longer my child."

After saying that, he pivoted and went back upstairs.

I stood there in shock, unable to believe what I had hoped he had not said, but given my father's tendency to follow instructions, those words seemed like a rock being thrown at me.

I am his only legally recognized heir. He would not throw me out, would he?

I cleared my throat and headed to his room.

My father's guards, James and Roy, were at the bottom of the stairs, but they made no attempt to stop me, permitting me to proceed; not that I needed it, but in this situation, it was necessary.

I took in a shaky breath and willed my legs to stop shaking as I stepped onto the first staircase.

"Where do you think you are going?" It came from the voice of someone I hoped was not around.

I halted and turned to face my stepmother, Roseline, with her naive daughter, Vivian, who is a perfect replica of her mother, standing behind her.

"You may have forgotten that only family members are permitted upstairs, but you are still coming upstairs after hearing your father just now. Ella, I will tell you to leave right away if you do not want to be pulled out of here," she said, her naive expression belying her words of resentment.

Roseline was not always like this; it started when Dad set up my marriage with the man she would always want for Viv.

"Come on Mom," Viv said, scolding her mother with a stern expression.

I am not sure who was more shocked- her mother or me- but the shock was evident on her face.

She was angrier than her mother when the incident occurred.

She approached me, looking as petite as ever.

Her chubby face was covered in delicate make-up that made her look like a Disney princess, and she was dressed in a white crop top and a matching pink mid-thigh flare skirt, her lips tinted with baby pink gloss, and her hair packed in a high ponytail adorned with various hairpins.

Her mom dresses exactly like this but with a longer skirt and the opposite of how I dress. If only she had not looked so much like Dad, one would have thought they were twins.

Since I am Ella Rodrigo, my father's heir, I never received any of those. I can not afford to waste time getting dressed up when I should be overseeing the family's business and marrying a powerful man who is appropriate for our family in the near future. If I have not ruined my father's plan, it will be in two weeks.

As powerful as that name is among people like us, I must marry a man of his choosing or not at all.

Although the world is changing rapidly, he continues to believe in arranged marriages. His was successful, and he believes his children will be as well.

My father refuses to move forward, and I refuse to leave his house for a man's house to live the same way, training my ass every day to avoid harm to my family.

We are both stubborn in that regard.

She placed her small palm on my shoulder and smiled, "I am sure you will need some of your black clothing; you can get some upstairs, as well as any other items you may require because you will not be able to stay this time."

I glanced down at my so-called "black dressing," which had saved me so many times. I wore a long-sleeved black leather jacket with three gold and four silver buttons, black pants with nearly ten pockets to hold my various weapons and black leather boots.

I look up at her mother and notice she now has a smug look on her face with no trace of her once-stunned expression.

Vivian moved closer to me and whispered quietly.

"You messed up this time, and I will make sure you never get to return," she said, smirking.

She yanks her hands off me and dusts her palms as if she had just placed them on dirt.

"John, assist her with whatever she may require and ensure she does not take what does not belong to her," she summoned the errand boy she employs because she has always been afraid of the guards with guns.

At that moment, I "almost" regretted not carrying out my father's wishes.

I took a step forward, standing beside her, slightly taller than she was. I traced my hand down the helm of my trousers to my side pocket, retrieving my short gun while maintaining eye contact with her.

They might as well receive a gift from me if I were to depart today.

I pulled it out and gave it a cock.

I refer to it as "killer."

With a wide grin, I placed it on the side of her head, keeping my gaze fixed on her expression.

It did not take long for her startled expression to change to one of fear.

She looked like she was about to pee her pants, which only made my grin wider.

I noticed her mother squinting back out of the corner of my eye.

In this world where they live, we do not do the talking; our weapon does, and it is a fact they can never deny; they knew it, but they pushed for it.

They understand that I could shoot them and bury their supporters alongside them.

The fear in Viv's eyes was palpable, and it gave me the strength and determination I needed to kill them but...

Deep down I knew I would not kill them but the illusion of it alone gave me the satisfaction I wanted, even though I might get buried today by my dad for trying to kill his favorite daughter