I Want Him

The main hall of the Mercer family was imposing, with tall columns that extended from floor to ceiling, giving the impression that the ceiling was floating in the air. The black and white marble floor was perfectly polished, reflecting the light that entered through the tall windows. Behind the throne, two vortices met in a bright symbol, representing the union of the forces of nature.

Along the walls, there were tapestries with images of legendary battles and past conquests of the Mercer family. The furniture was luxurious, made of noble woods with dark red velvet upholstery. Large crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling and emitted a soft light, creating an atmosphere of sophistication and elegance.

Darya was sitting in one of the armchairs, next to the throne, with her legs crossed. She looked around the hall with a little apprehension. Even she, who grew up in this luxurious environment, could not get used to all that pomp and circumstance.

Darya's father entered the room with heavy steps, his intimidating aura making everyone silent and bow their heads in respect. He stared at Darya in silence for a few seconds, as if looking for something in her. From Darya's perspective, she felt as if he was analyzing her strength, but in reality, he was concerned about her well-being, observing if she looked well and healthy.

He was majestic and cruel, with long white hair that fell to his waist, and black skin like all members of the Mercer family. His eyes were cold and calculating, and his posture was imposing, like that of a king who rules with an iron fist. He walked to the throne and sat down, without saying a word.

Darya stared at him, trying to read the expression on his face, but as always, he kept a mask of indifference. She stood up and approached him with a bow, as expected of her position as the leader's daughter of the Mercer family.

"My father," she said, with a respectful tone. "I am glad to see you again."

He simply nodded, saying nothing. Darya felt a shiver run down her spine, as if she was facing an unpredictable monster.

"Who dared to attack my daughter?" The voice of the white demon echoed through the hall, now filled with elders of the Mercer family who hid behind the throne. A deadly silence followed his scream as everyone looked at each other, afraid to speak.

The white demon began to emit his energy, in a display of overwhelming power, his presence seemed to increase in every moment. Still, the people remained silent, fearing the consequences of answering.

"None of you know!?" Darya's father growled low and menacing, echoing through the hall, leaving all present tense. It was evident that something very serious was happening.

Darya looked up and looked directly at her father. "It's not that they don't know, it's that they can't speak," she said in a firm and determined tone. All the present elders seemed to hold their breath.

Darya's father seemed to notice something in his daughter's expression and decided to give her a chance to continue. He loosened his grip and signaled for her to proceed.

"It was my brother, Vlad, who tried to kill me," Darya said in a low but clear voice.

He remained silent for a few seconds, the expression on his face tense as he tried to process what his daughter had just said.

"What mistake do you think he made?" He asked, his voice low and dangerous, like a warning sign.

Darya felt a chill run down her spine, but she kept her composure. She knew she needed to answer honestly if she wanted to maintain her father's trust.

"Being caught," she replied firmly.

Her father continued to stare at her, probing her mind for more information.

"Elaborate," he demanded.

"Assassinating for the throne war is not allowed, at least not openly," explained Darya, her voice trembling slightly due to the tension in the air. "If he hadn't been caught, he could have killed me and continued to fight for the throne with impunity."

The hall fell silent, with everyone present waiting for Darya's father's reaction. She kept her eyes fixed on him, trying to read the emotions on his face as she waited for his response.

Darya had hardly spent time with her father since she became aware of his actions. And despite her sixteen years of life, she had never seen him smile. But at that moment, she noticed something different on his face: a slight curve on his lips, which could go unnoticed by many, but not by her. It was a sign of relief, of a concern that had finally been alleviated. The tension that had dominated the atmosphere now seemed to be dissipating, and the young woman felt a mix of emotions: relief, happiness, and even a hint of sadness for having gone so long without seeing this expression on her father's face.

"Interesting point of view, Darya. You're right, the throne war is a battle fought in the shadows. Those who risk being caught are the ones who end up losing. Your brother wasn't smart enough to keep his assassination attempt a secret."

He snapped his fingers impatiently as a man emerged from the shadows behind the throne, bowing respectfully in his direction.

"My lord," the man said humbly.

"What is Vlad's current situation?" asked the white demon, still staring intently at his daughter.

"Your eldest son is currently managing the artifact shop that was confiscated from the Booker family."

"From today, he is banned from equipping his men with any artifacts from the family," ordered the white demon as the servant nodded in acknowledgment. "And inform the Asher family that from today until Darya turns 18, all profit they obtain will be delivered to her."

"Yes, my lord," replied the man, bowing again before disappearing into the shadows.

The tension in the room decreased a little when the man left, but the silence still hung heavy. Darya tried to decipher her father's expression, but his countenance remained impenetrable. Finally, he turned to her, a small smile appearing on his lips.

"With that, begins your entry into the competition, my daughter," he said, rising from his throne. "As a gesture of courtesy, I will grant you a wish, whatever it may be."

Darya felt the weight of responsibility on her shoulders as she pondered her weakness. She knew she needed help, but she didn't know who to trust. None of the 12 families supported her, unlike her brothers. She wondered if she could win this war alone.

Suddenly, a familiar face appeared in her mind, the boy who had survived with her. Darya felt a sudden flash of hope. She looked at her father with determination and said, "It's him that I want. He's my choice." The words came out of her lips with a firmness that she didn't know she possessed. Now more than ever, she was willing to fight for her goals. "The boy who survived with me."

Her father stared at her in silence as a whirlwind of thoughts passed through his mind. He pondered his daughter's decision, trying to understand what led Darya to choose that particular boy.

His expression was serious and focused, but at the same time, there was a sparkle of curiosity in his eyes. He wanted to know more about the young man who had been able to survive alongside his daughter, and who had now become her choice.

"If that's your choice, so be it." He snapped his fingers and the servant nodded, taking Darya out of the room. A few moments later, the servant returned and bowed again before the white demon.

"Has the boy awakened?" Darya's father asked.

"Yes, my lord. His treatment ended a few hours ago," the servant replied.

"Bring him here. I want to see the boy who saved my daughter," ordered the father, curious to meet the one who had helped save his daughter's life.

****

"Hey, do you speak my language?" I asked the man who was leading me somewhere.

I'm not going to lie, I've been thinking about this moment throughout my entire treatment. Should I tell the truth or withhold information?

The most logical answer would be to withhold information, but what if someone from these families has the ability to detect lies? Or worse, force me to tell the truth?

I swallowed nervously trying not to show my nervousness. I had no idea what awaited me, and to make matters worse, this strange man seemed to be mute.

"Curse it, what am I going to do?" I murmured softly as I was led somewhere. I began to analyze the main wing of the Mercer family and was impressed.

"Honestly, if someone told me the Mercer family is a royal family, I'd believe it right away," I thought to myself, observing the sumptuous details of that imposing mansion.

The main wing of the Mercer family was imposing and luxurious, with an air of grandeur that did not go unnoticed. The walls were lined with a cream-colored wallpaper with golden floral patterns, and the heavy, thick curtains were a dark red. There were crystal chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling, illuminating the hallway with a soft and sparkling light.

On the floor, a high-quality dark red carpet extended all the way, softening each step. The furniture was made of dark wood, finely crafted with golden ornaments, and looked old but well cared for. There were several framed oil paintings on the walls, all depicting countryside scenes or natural landscapes.

At the end of the hallway, I could see a large wooden door decorated with intricate sculptures, giving access to a spacious and bright hall, where a giant dining table with red velvet seats awaited the guests. The feeling of opulence and power emanating from that place was undeniable, and I felt small and out of place, like an intruder in a world that didn't belong to me.

We continued walking until we arrived in front of a large door adorned with the Mercer family crest in gold. The man accompanying me stepped forward and opened the door, revealing a majestic hall, where a long-haired man was sitting on a throne.

A unique aura surrounded him, and I immediately knew he was the leader of that family. The man who escorted me took hold of my arm, and we walked together until we stood right in front of the throne. Then, he bowed in a sign of respect.

"Here he is, my lord." He pointed to me still bowed. "Mr. Kian Mercer."

With a wave of his left hand, the man on the throne made the person who brought me disappear into the shadows. His penetrating eyes stared at me, and I felt like I was being analyzed thoroughly.

He observed my body up and down until his eyes stopped at my chest, focusing on my heart.

"Your nexus." He spoke, making me feel a chill run down my spine. "It's damaged."

"I know."

I clenched my fists reluctantly as I felt the pressure increase. With just a glance, he identified my greatest weakness, and my value must have decreased considerably because of it.

"You saved my daughter," he said as he stood up from the throne and began to descend the steps. "How?"

With each step he took, his assassin's aura intensified.

"How did you manage to exhaust your mental energy?"

His pressure began to spread throughout the room, causing a sharp pain in my legs.

"How did you manage to save her?"

Each question that came out of his mouth increased the pressure on me even more.

"And most importantly, how did you manage to force the growth of your core?"

"I did what was necessary." I replied firmly, trying to maintain my posture despite the overwhelming pressure he exerted on me.

The man stopped in front of me, studying me with a penetrating gaze. It was hard to resist his imposing and intimidating presence.

"Interesting." He finally said, taking a few steps around me. "You have courage and determination, but you are also reckless and rash."

He stopped again in front of me and looked me directly in the eyes.

"Don't do anything without my permission." He said with a harsh and authoritative voice. "Or there will be severe consequences."

I nodded my head, knowing it was pointless to argue with him. The man clearly had immense power, and I needed to be careful about how I acted in his presence.

"You saved my daughter, and for that, I will grant you a wish," he said as he began to walk back to the throne. "What do you want?"

My heart raced. This was my chance to get my Nexum fixed. I knew the doctor had told me it was impossible, but I had to try. I gathered all the courage I had and answered without hesitation: "I want my Nexum to be repaired."

Silence filled the room as I waited for his response. I looked into his eyes, silently pleading for him to help me. Finally, he answered, his voice filled with disbelief and skepticism: "That's impossible."

I felt the ground give way beneath my feet. All I wanted was to have my Nexum back. It was the only thing I had left. My hopes faded before me, leaving me helpless and empty.

I lowered my head, too weak to look him in the eye again. For a moment, pain and disappointment consumed me. "Shit..."

"So help me get stronger," I pleaded, desperate.

He waved indifferently. "That's impossible too. Since you can't think of anything, then I will define your reward. From now on, you will officially be a son of the Mercer family. You will be given a house in Pavilion 3 and become one of Darya Reynarus Mercer's men."

I fell silent, perplexed by what I had just heard. I hoped for a reward that could help me strengthen myself, but instead, he gave me something I never asked for. The feeling of having lost control over my own life left me frustrated and powerless.

However, I knew I couldn't question his decision. It was an honor to be considered a son of the Mercer family, but I couldn't help feeling like I had lost a valuable opportunity.

"Now go." He waved his hand. "You have a lot to do."