Burning Desire, My fiancee's Father

2

Michael Rudding.

I was born into a world of privilege. A conglomerate family that mapped out my life long before I even took a first breath. Every detail, from education to my future in the family business—it has been meticulously planned. As a Rudding, we are an empire, a dynasty whose wealth and influence has spanned through generations.

As a young boy, the head of the Rudding empire was my father, David Rudding—a man with an iron will and unyielding discipline. He had built our family’s fortune into a billion-dollar juggernaut. He ruled not just over the business, but over the lives of his sons. I and the rest of my brothers were groomed from birth to take on a role within the empire. We were molded into extensions of our father’s vision, expected to play a part in that would ensure our family’s dominance for generations to come.

I, being the youngest, was the outlier—the hard-headed one, the stubborn last born who chafed under the strict control that my father exerted. While my brothers fell in line, taking up their appointed positions, I resisted. The more my father pushed, the more I pulled away, refusing to be just another cog in the well-oiled Rudding machine.

Our family’s oil empire is the crown jewel, a billion-dollar enterprise that spans across continents. As Ruddings, we control not just the extraction and refining of oil, but its distribution and sale, making us a key player in the global energy market. The sector alone brings unimaginable wealth, and with it, immense power. Our family’s reach are extended into the corridors of political power, where we lobby for policies that will protect and expand our interests.

My mother once said that my spirit was too wild, too untamed to be so easily caged. I grew to be the black sheep, the rebel who refused to be molded into what my father wanted. At eighteen, I reached my breaking point. With nothing more than a hastily written letter, I walked away, abandoning everything and enlisting into the army.

In training, I was taught to fight in hand-to-hand combat. Techniques from Krav Maga, Sambo, Savate, Jeet Kune Do, Aikido and more brutal martial arts focused on neutralizing opponents quickly. I learned to throw punches, to strike at vital points, to disarm and disable enemies before they could do the same to me. These were training that left me with drills, bruised and battered.

In Iraq, I fought in urban warfare, moving through bombed-out buildings and war-torn streets. In Afghanistan, the terrain was different but no less deadly. The mountains were a maze of rocky outcrops and hidden valleys, perfect for ambushes. I and my unit would trek through the harsh landscape, always on edge, always aware that the enemy could strike at any moment.

I rapidly ascended through the ranks, earning promotion after promotion as my superiors recognized my potential. I gained the reputation of a soldier who would go to any lengths to save his men.

However, the Rudding empire began to demand my attention and my father saw me as his rightful heir. When the time came, I was forced to make a difficult decision. The Rudding empire needed a strong hand at the helm and my father decided that I, was that hand. Therefore, I stepped away from active military service.

And now, I guess my job is to watch my foolish son who cannot even control a f*****g gun!

Under me is a young woman whose skin is a rich tapestry of butter, a delicate dusting of peach colors her cheeks—where did Lucas find her? He has brought many women into the mansion but there has never been one like this. Her hair is as black as a raven's wing, parted neatly down the middle and framing her face in perfect symmetry. Her eyes are large and luminous as sapphires, one that could ensnare hearts. I swallow, looking down at her lips, full and ripe as cherries.

And her nose, a delicate aquiline shape. When I first laid eyes on Elena, I was struck by a sensation—a faint, unwelcome in my chest. I barely recognize my own heart beating. It rarely leaped for anything, much less for a woman. But this one looks like no ordinary woman. An intoxicating blend of a vixen's allure and an innocent dove's purity. Her presence demanded attention, yet her poise is understated, elegant—classy. I think she is the most attractive woman I have ever seen.

Elena Carter’s knee raises, inadvertently pressing against my groin, causing a sharp, unexpected jolt from me. My breath is caught in my throat and I feel an undeniable heat—one that pushes my disciplined control to the edge.

We both freeze.

She gasps. Her knees remain in place, caught in the awkwardness, unable to move either up or down. The weight of my heavy groin rests unyieldingly against her—the contact is far too close, far too intense.

Quickly, l push myself off her and I turn sharply toward Lucas, who is looking at me in shock—still gripping the rifle.

“Dad, I’m sorry... I didn’t know it was loaded...” Lucas stammers, trembling as the realization of what just happened has begun to sink in.

I grab the rifle from Lucas's hands and I throw the weapon towards the butler, Caruso who catches it effortlessly, as if trained for moments like this.

“You—you’re...” Lucas’s voice falters as he points to my arm. I look down and I see blood on my arm, the bullet grazed me.

Before Lucas can say more, the door bursts open, and a flurry of footsteps follows. Two of my brothers, followed by their wives rush in to the noise of the gunshot.

“What happened?” Thomas, one of my brothers demand, his voice is tight with worry.

Cecily gasps when she sees the blood on my arm, her hand flies to her mouth in shock.

“Help your fiancée up!” I seethe at Lucas and he regains focus, rushing past me.

“Michael what—” Bruno tires to ask.

“I am fine. It is just a graze.” I say, dis-alarming them.

“Who shot the gun?”

“How?”

I do not bother to answer that question. Just as I move forward, a voice cuts through. A voice I know all too well.

“Who is this!?” Rebecca, my sister demands.

I turn.

Elena is still shaken as Lucas helps her stand. She straightens her posture, instinctively smoothing her skirt, trying to maintain a semblance of calm. What she doesn’t know is that this family is far from calm.

“Who is this little dove?” Rebecca points her finger, directly referring to the young woman who does look like a little dove.

“She’s my fiancée, Elena.” Lucas mumbles.

“You’ve got a fiancée?” Thomas asks.

“She looks like Rapunzel. Are you sure she is real? Are you sure you didn’t pay her to come here?” Rebecca asks and I begin to walk away from the circle.

“Rebecca!” Cecily tries to stop my sister’s sharp mouth.

“Oh, sorry—what young woman doesn’t want to be a part of the Rudding family? It’s a blank cheque. And also, what happened here?” Rebecca asks, realizing that there is a problem in the room.

“Michael, are you hurt?” She asks and I stop for a short while.

“Sir, we have to check your wound.” Caruso says, looking at my arm.

“I will do it myself. Clean this place first.” I order.

“It was my fault. I inadvertently knocked the safety off while holding the gun. Dad, I didn’t mean to—” Lucas says, and I look at him.

“You should be apologizing to her. You would have no fiancée if I didn’t block her.” I let him know.

“I am sorry,” Lucas mumbles to Elena who refuses to meet my gaze for even one second. Yeah, I get it. She didn’t think she was coming to the Rudding mansion to feel her boyfriend father’s balls.

“I apologise, Elena.” Cecily, my sister in-law says, meaning it from the bottom of her heart.

“Thank you.” Elena mutters.

“I will set up a table for lunch and we can all get to know you. Are you fine with that? I promise, this family doesn’t shoot at each other.” Cecily insists.

“Oh, do not lie to her, Cecil. We are worse.” Rebecca crosses her hands and my lips lift in a chuckle.

“Sure, I would love that.” Elena answers softly.

With that being said, I stride out of the room, needing a moment to clean the new wound—one of many. When she walked in here, I didn’t think I was going to get a wound. It has been years since a bullet grazed me. If I were superstitious, I would take it as a warning. But I am a man of the wild, so, I take it as a challenge.