## Killian's Perspective##
Life has a way of throwing curveballs when you least expect them.
It's been an arduous journey for me, a relentless quest to carve out my identity in a world that seems to oscillate between what I desire and what fate has in store.
I thought I was navigating the murky waters of young adulthood with some semblance of control until the universe decided to intervene dramatically.
Just moments ago, I received the gut-wrenching news that my father had been shot while attending a conference meeting. My heart is heavy with fear and dread, but let's push that aside for now; it's a burden I'll have to carry later.
Allow me to introduce myself: I am Killian Drakes, the heir to the illustrious Drakes Conglomerate, a family legacy steeped in wealth and ambition.
The reality is, I was born into privilege, an inherited fortune that guaranteed I had every material comfort imaginable. Nevertheless, money has never been the defining aspect of my life.
At just 20 years old, I've already graduated and launched my own engineering firm, paving my own way in a realm dominated by towering expectations.
As an architect, I pour my heart and soul into my work, which has led some to dub me a "workaholic." They also brand me as a ladies' man, but let me clarify: I'm no playboy.
When it comes to those relationships, I'm more of a spectator than a participant.
### AT GOLDEN HEALTH HOSPITAL ###
Speeding towards Golden Health Hospital, I felt like a dejected and lost puppy, a far cry from the confident son of a mogul people might envision.
Once I reached the VIP section, my worst fears were confirmed.
The heavy atmosphere enveloped me as I saw my mother, grandmother, and cousin Liam, their faces streaked with tears, caught in an emotional battle against despair.
"What's going on, Mum?" I asked, my voice trembling as I grasped her shoulders, desperate for answers.
She couldn't respond; grief painted her features, rendering her speechless. My heart raced with a mix of fear and confusion. Turning to Liam, I demanded,
"Where's Dad?" Intensity bubbled within me as I felt my anger rising, ready to explode at any moment.
Just then, Uncle Dan and Auntie Vivian burst into the room, wide-eyed and frantic. "Edson!" they called out, their voices laced with panic.
"Where's Eddie?" Auntie Vivian's sobs filled the air, deepening the somberness that blanketed the room.
"If anything happens to Dad, I swear, I'll kill those motherfuckers!" I yelled, each word fueled by a raw, uncontainable rage.
Time seemed to crawl as we sat anxiously, waiting for news from the surgery.
When the doctor finally emerged, we all surged towards him, propelled by a collective hope and anxiety.
"What's wrong with my father? Is he okay?" I shouted, panic clawing at my throat.
"He's out of danger for now, but he needs rest. I advise you to leave someone with him while the rest of you return home." The doctor's calm demeanor contrasted sharply with my chaotic emotions as I tried to process his words.
"I'll stay with him," I declared, my gaze fierce and resolute. Red from anger and worry, I felt unyielding in my decision.
"Killian, you should go home. I'll watch him," my mother implored gently.
"No thanks, Mum. I'll remain here with him. The rest of you can leave," I commanded firmly, an invisible wall of determination building around me.
They wheeled my father back into his room, placing him delicately on the hospital bed. A chill ran down my spine as I sat there, observing the frail figure that was once the commanding presence in my life.
His face, a mirror of my own, elicited a wellspring of emotions I couldn't fully comprehend.
Just that morning, he'd announced his conference plans to the family, a seemingly mundane detail now laced with foreboding implications.
Was this the machination of a traitorous family member?
Suddenly, I noticed the subtle movement of my father's eyelids as he stirred in his unconscious state.
"Dad," I called softly, rushing to his side.
"Are you okay?" My heart raced, desperate to help him but at a loss for how.
"My boy," he murmured, a pained expression clouding his features. The reality settled hard in my stomach: he had been shot in the heart.
A wave of horrifying anger swelled inside me. "Dad, I swear, I'll kill whoever did this to you!" I promised vehemently.
"Listen here, son. Bad things happen sometimes," he managed to smile weakly, a bittersweet curve of his lips that broke my heart.
"I have to tell you something, someone is trying to kill you," I said, urgency punctuating my tone.
"I know. There are many out there." He coughed, a rattle that sent chills through me. "Listen to me carefully. I want you to get married. It has to be done immediately. I'm not sure how much longer I have."
"Dad, no! I can't do that! I'll get the doctor!" I interjected, fear creeping in like an unwelcome shadow.
"No need for that. There's no time. Get married tomorrow. Bring the certificate to me directly, but don't tell anyone about it until I have transferred everything to your name." His whisper was filled with urgency, each word weighing heavy on my heart.
"But Dad, I'm only 20 years old! I'm too young for that?" I argued, panic washing over me as tumultuous thoughts raced in my mind.
"I understand. But I was married by 18. You can do this. You must." The weight of his conviction pulled at me.
"Pass me my phone," he commanded, and in a daze, I handed it over. He dialed a number with trembling fingers.
"Get the marriage certificate by tomorrow," he said urgently.
"Hurry, you have only three days left. Find a strong girl." His tone left no room for dissent.
I stood there, utterly lost. Marriage was the furthest thing from my mind, yet the reality was looming over me like a storm cloud.
I had no idea where to even begin, and a sense of devastation enveloped me.
"Go find her. Nick can stay with me," he whispered again, referring to his most trusted bodyguard, a man I had come to trust as well.
Dad had never taken marriage seriously before; what storm was brewing beneath the surface? I couldn't even wrap my mind around the urgency of it all, yet here I was, faced with an almost impossible task.
**How could I find a bride in such a tumultuous moment?** Should I keep this secret? My blood ran cold as I realized that trust was an elusive currency in my world right now.
I had to find a bride myself, but I couldn't even trust the people closest to me.
The weight of responsibility settled heavily on my shoulders.
A seemingly simple mission had morphed into an urgent quest not only to safeguard my father's legacy but also to navigate the treacherous waters of family loyalty, betrayal, and the unknown.
Time was ticking, and with each second, the gravity of the situation anchored me deeper into a harsh reality.