A COMMAND

004

Inside Sarkhel’s mansion in Silicon Valley, Nick threw a wild, indulgent party meant purely for his own pleasure and satisfaction. The night revolved around his personal celebrations, including Calla’s pregnancy and the finalization of his divorce from Clara.

For Nick, it was a moment of triumph and release. He celebrated his newfound freedom from Clara and what he believed had been a forced marriage, one imposed on him by her father, savoring the feeling of finally living life on his own terms.

A scatter of the guests consisted of Nikolai’s personal bodyguards and staff, but the majority of the crowd were Calla’s fellow models.

By the poolside, Calla and Nick were lost in their own world, having the absolute time of their lives.

They were locked in a relentless, breathless embrace, trading heavy kisses without a single pause. The temperature soared even higher when two other women slipped into the scene, eagerly melting into their increasingly steamy, uninhibited display.

As the music carried on through Sarkhel’s mansion, the atmosphere shifted in an instant when Ignazio Sarkhel arrived.

Nikolai’s father stepped in with a heavy, commanding presence, his shadowed security men trailing behind him like a silent warning. The laughter around the pool died out as Ignazio walked straight toward his son, his expression cold with controlled rage.

Without hesitation or a word of warning, Ignazio struck. Nikolai was driven backward and thrown into the pool, the impact shattering the surface into a violent splash. Water surged as panic rippled through the guests.

Calla and the others recoiled in shock, confusion turning quickly into fear as chaos broke out across the poolside. Guests scrambled to distance themselves, heels slipping on wet stone, voices rising in alarm.

In the same breath, Ignazio’s shadowed men moved with precision. Weapons were drawn, the metallic sound cutting through the air and freezing everyone in place. The once lavish celebration dissolved into tense silence and scattered panic, as the power in the room shifted completely under Ignazio Sarkhel’s control.

“Don Ignazio, what is the problem? You came unannounced and kicked me,” Nikolai grunted like a boy.

Ignazio gritted his teeth. “Clear my house of the trash you brought in, Nikolai, and follow me immediately to my office,” he commanded, his voice laced with absolute authority and imperious control. “We’re going to discuss some serious shit you’ve done, my idiot son.”

Nikolai, though already twenty-eight, still flinched under his father’s presence like a cornered kitten. Without protest, he obeyed, following Ignazio’s command in tense silence, the weight of old fear overriding his pride as he moved away from the shattered party scene.

Calla, dressed in a daring two-piece bikini, stepped directly into Nikolai’s path, blocking him before he could get back inside the mansion.

“Hon, this is the time I’ve been waiting for,” Calla said ambitiously, stepping closer into Nikolai’s space. “Are you finally going to introduce me to your father so we can talk about our wedding soon?”

“Just go home, Calla,” Nikolai said sharply, his voice strained. “I need to deal with my father this time.”

“But Nick…” Calla protested, her voice breaking with frustration.

Nikolai didn’t stop. He gently but firmly pushed past her, his focus fixed on the tense situation ahead, leaving no room for argument.

Calla stood frozen for a moment, humiliation and anger flashing across her face before she turned away. With sharp, angry steps, she stormed off to get dressed, her heels echoing through the halls of Sarkhel’s mansion as she prepared to leave.

Nikolai entered his father’s office wearing only a bathrobe, water still clinging to his hair and skin from the chaos outside.

Ignazio was already waiting. He sat in silence, perfectly composed, but his clenched fists betrayed the fury he was holding back.

The tension in the room was suffocating. Ignazio’s gaze locked onto his son with cold disappointment and restrained rage, the kind that made it clear Nikolai was only spared because of blood. If he had not been his biological son, Ignazio’s patience would have ended without hesitation.

“Where’s Clara, you damn imbecile?” was Ignazio’s foremost question the moment Nikolai stepped into the office, his voice low, controlled, and already brimming with restrained fury.

“I divorced her,” Nikolai said flatly. “She got pregnant with another man’s child and left. I have nothing to do with her anymore, Father.”

Ignazio clung to the last shred of his patience, maintaining a terrifying calmness before snapping. Moving with lethal deliberation, he reached into his desk drawer, pulled out his gun, and fired a warning shot that grazed his idiot son’s ear, embedding the bullet deep into the wall behind him.

“Father!” Nikolai froze as the color drained from his face, fear taking hold. He trembled under his father’s dangerous warning, then slowly lowered himself into the chair, sitting stiffly.

“I know you are a fucking idiot, Nick, but not this much of an imbecile to do things like that without my guidance, you son of a bitch. We’ve come this far for you to marry Cassian’s daughter,” Ignazio said sharply, his voice low with restrained fury. “But with your damn foolishness, you let Clara slip away.”

“Father, we don’t need Clara anymore,” Nikolai said, forcing steadiness into his voice. “The real purpose of that marriage was to secure an heir through a Morcant bloodline, but I failed to make her pregnant.”

Nick swallowed hard before continuing. “Still, I will give you a grandchild. An heir to Mor-Sark. Calla, Cassian’s other daughter, is pregnant with my child.”

“So you think you outsmarted our situation with what you did, boy?” Ignazio said coldly, his gaze sharp enough to cut through Nikolai. “Well, here’s your reality check. That Calla girl is not biologically related to Cassian Morcant.”

Ignazio leaned back slightly, his voice tightening with control. “Calla is only the daughter of the woman Cassian once loved in the past, who happens to be Clara’s biological mother. In short,” Ignazio finished with finality, “Clara is the only true Morcant daughter you had access to. And you let her slip away! You had it within your grasp, and yet you still let it fall through your fingers, dumbass!”

It made Nick’s mind spiral into chaos.

All this time, he thought Calla was also a legitimate daughter of Cassian Morcant. A world-famous supermodel hidden behind a masked identity, kept out of the public eye because Cassian Morcant never allowed his name to be exposed through her.

Calla had lived under an alternate identity in the public sphere, her true lineage concealed, yet Nick knew exactly who she was. He pursued her deliberately, drawn to her allure, captivated by her presence. She was everything Clara was not in his eyes, and far more intoxicating—far more desirable than Clara had ever been.

“Don’t make me spell it out for you, my boy. You know what you should do. Bring Clara back and make her carry your child. That child is our only way into the Mor-Sark organization. You are the next Lord of Mor-Sark if you can give Clara a child,” Ignazio said firmly. “Then we will control the majority of Mor-Sark’s businesses. Once Cassian wakes from his coma and learns you divorced and dishonored his precious daughter, our position will collapse. Our family bloodline will be completely diminished. While Cassian is still in a coma, act now! Bring Clara back and marry her again.”

“But Father, Calla is pregnant,” Nikolai said tensely. “She’s carrying my child.”

Ignazio pulled a document from the hidden pocket of his black coat. Without a word, he stepped forward and slapped it against Nikolai’s chest, forcing it into his hands.

“Read it,” he said coldly.

The paper in Nick’s hand contained a medical record.

It stated clearly that Calla could no longer conceive due to a serious reproductive condition. She had already suffered two miscarriages years ago, and the damage had made a future pregnancy impossible.

Nick’s expression darkened as he absorbed the information in tense silence, the implication sitting heavily in his chest. Yet the memory of Calla’s insistence about her pregnancy surfaced sharply in his mind.

A disturbing contradiction formed at once.

Either the report was false, or Calla had deliberately deceived him.

“This should be the last time you disappoint me, Nikolai,” Ignazio said coldly, his voice low and lethal. “Or I will kill you with my own hands.” Ignazio said firmly while pointing his gun to Nick’s forehead, his voice leaving no room for argument.

“Bring Cassian Morcant’s only daughter back by hook or by crook. I don’t care how you do it, Nikolai. Drag her back if you must, but make sure she stands before me before Cassian ever opens his eyes again.”