"No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man."

― Heraclitus

Avyanna's POV:

Vulnerability was a vice I didn't wish upon anyone, not even my worst of the enemies.

Vulnerability is consuming, soul-eating. A crippling feeling of helplessness,  a little girl trapped inside a box while playing hide and seek and with no way out.

The palpitation of the heart machine and the white wires linked to my dad's vegetative body said more than the doctor's pitiful face ever could. It screamed in the void. It said, "Look! You are going to be alone in the truest sense."

"I am sorry," The doctor said in a small voice, his face a mask of calmness, "He is at the brink. We tried everything we could."

Exactly how does one react to that?

The numbness seemed to get even deeper, hollower, cutting through my very soul. The silence around me was deafening. The room seemed to have gotten smaller as it consumed me entirely.

"Are you sure?" My voice was a faint hum to my ears. It was unrecognisable, detached. Void of any emotion.

"I am sorry again, miss," He repeated again, this time, having the decency to look down, "He is going in and out of consciousness, it is better if you meet him now."

My eyes sought out my father, a man of power but weak in front of the shadows of death. Barely breathing, his graying moustache peeking through the foggy oxygen mask.

A chaos of black and white unfurled as it drowned the world of colors in its bleakness.

A sharp ring broke through the chaos. Roman the screen glowed.

I remember leaving him there, abruptly, flabbergasted by the news.

I pocketed the phone, slowly walking closer to the bed.

If I could fight whatever threatened to take him from me, I would.

A tear escaped me as I slowly entwined my fingers with his. So many needles under his frail skin, covered by heavy bandages. I wiped the droplet of tear away, kneeling in front of him.

"Dad?" I softly called out, hoping that he would recognize my voice.

Cold skin beat faintly under my warm one. Another droplet of pestiferous tear inadvertently trailed down my cheek.

I seldom cried, having likened myself to a rock so that I could be that phoenix my dad wanted me to be.

The only person who never gave up on me. The only man who taught me the meaning of true power.

Seeing the same man vulnerable and weak only added to the nefariousness of the realisation of my own fragility.

I was weak. Powerless. I couldn't fight with death.

I could only watch as he was engulfed by its eternal nothingness.

"Y-Yana," he mumbled, so softly. I brushed a strand of his grey hair back, his eyes were still closed, "Maya."

My dad had a special name for me. Maya, he called me.

"It means illusion," He smiled brightly.

I had only frowned, questioning the absurdity of the name itself, "I don't like it."

"Well, I do," He placed a kiss on my cheek, making me frown deeper, "You are like a phoenix. One that doesn't know how strong she is."

"I am here," I whispered, caressing the back of his hand.

"Yana," He spoke softly, "D-Did you eat?"

The infernal tears cascaded down my cheeks as I cried silently, the lump in my throat became more painful, more prominent.

"I did," I squeaked pathetically.

He opened his eyes. Light, joyful. Dim, but still jolly. The eyes that resembled mine although mine had lost its lights years ago. He gave me a soft smile.

"Dad?"

"Don't cry, sweetie," He barely got those words out, "God has a plan."

"Don't go," I pleaded desperately, clinging onto his hand, "I won't be able to handle this alone. Please dad."

"Yana, you are so smart," He tapped my hand twice. He always did when I was sad and needed reassurance, "You will do fine."

"I am lost already," A sob tore through my body. I was only a weak, helpless child, "I work hard but they think I have it handed over to me. I am trying my best to save the company from bankruptcy and they doubt me at every step. I won't be able to handle the shitstorm, daddy. Please don't leave me."

"Sweetheart," The clinch in his fragile voice was heartbreaking, "After your step-mother's death, I felt the same way. I felt as if the world crumpled and it shattered into half," His deep brown eyes shone with tears.

"Luckily, you were a good child. I didn't have any difficulties raising you. I didn't have to wane off boys, I didn't have to teach you the bad sides of drinking irresponsibly, I didn't have to worry about you failing your classes," He let out a deep, quivering sigh as I stroked the back of his crinkled hand soothingly.

"But now that I think about it, Yana, I probably should have," A solemn tear escaped him. I shook my head, wiping it carefully.

"Dad no-"

"Let me finish, love," He wheezed out, "You should have stayed out late. You should have let yourself be irresponsible once in a while. You didn't have to stay in your study, awake all night, drawing blueprints when your peers were out partying into oblivion. You did. You understood that if you are not capable and strong, you will not be respected."

"Dad, I did what is best for me," I pleaded desperately as his words cut through my soul like a sharp knife, "I did it for me, dad but also in the back of my mind I always knew I did everything to make you proud."

"But my love, you grew up too soon," His voice was barely coherent, a small whisper laced with agony, "So fast, burdened with the duties you should not have been given."

"Dad..." I shook my head, patting his hand desperately, "Don't blame yourself. It is the life I chose for myself. It is the life I want to lead."

 "Sometimes you have grown so much that I feel like you are older than me. You didn't have to take a degree, you didn't have to take over the company, you could enjoy your life for a while yet you did. Despite all that."

"Dad, I do like the company," Despite myself, I smiled, "I love managing it."

"Tyranting over them you mean," He chuckled softly, "I hope you aren't exerting them too much."

"Just a little bit," I rolled my eyes, "They'll get over it."

His tiny smile was veiled by profound sadness, "You are the reason I have lived so far, Avyanna," He stroked my hair, like he always did when I was anxious, "But I can't be here forever, my love."

"Stop saying negative shit" A crack in my voice, a moment of silence, "Dad please. We will find a better doctor. I will fly you to Asia if needed-"

"You were always a stubborn woman," He sighed, "I still remember the day you were born. The doctors had to coddle you greatly to make you cry. You were born with that arrogant nose of yours and refused to cry even as an infant."

I rolled my eyes, hmphing, "I was not!"

"And then you barely ever cried. When you wanted food, you would make a slight sound of displeasure, like I would imagine a royalty to do so," I laughed through my tears, lungs burning in anguish, "And remember when you broke that boy's nose because he refused to-"

"I can't lose you dad, please," I begged, whimpering pathetically, "I will be left alone. I have no one else and you know this better than me."

"I suppose so, my love," His eyes were baleful as he slowly stroked my cheek, "I wish you let your inhibitions loose, just a little bit. You are young. You have your whole life ahead."

Dried tears itched on my cheeks as I cried silently, closing my eyes, "I am where I am supposed to be dad. Please."

"I wish I was a better dad to you," He whispered to the wind, "It breaks my heart when I search for my 22 year old daughter and see a senile woman of 80."

I lowered my head. In shame? Pain? Sympathy? I had no idea. My dying father's bidding words pierced me like needles on my skin. I did not know what gave him the idea that he was a bad father and how to undo it.

It cut deeper than I had imagined.

I could not let him carry an untruth belief to his grave.

"Dad," My voice stuck in my throat like a peril, "You are an amazing father. You gave me the freedom I always desired and tended to me whenever it was needed. It is me. It was always me that restricted myself from many pleasures because I have always wanted to make you proud. I wanted to be a daughter that would make you say, "That woman is my daughter and she did not need my help to be successful.""

"Oh, Maya," Tears fell freely from his eyes. I wiped them with my handkerchief, suspecting that I had said the wrong thing.

"I would never ever claim otherwise even if you weren't up to the standards you built around yourself, Avyanna. I have always been proud of you. The first time you drew a line with your green crayon when you were 3? I was so so proud of you, my love. I have always been."

"Oh dad," I cried like a child, an imperious feeling of heartbreak curving in my guts, "What am I to do without you? How am I ever going to live knowing there will be no one to pick me up when I fall? I will be alone and miserable."

"That is the funny thing, Yana," He smiled, "You have always picked yourself up."

I stare at him, shock coursing through me in crass waves. "Dad?"

"You have never needed my assistance, Avyanna. You were always so quick to pick yourself up and go on as if nothing ever happened. I have never doubted you once in my life, in fact, your resilience inspired me in many ways."

I stroked a hand through his greying hair, his moustache was greying too. Many people said I resembled him, except for his burly nose.

I slowly touched it, bopping it like I always used to.

Our eyes met, for a mere moment and the truth etched on my mind.

He was truly leaving me.

It could not be denied anymore. I saw it in his slightly deeper than usual wrinkles, his trembling, blue lips and his hollowed eyes.

"I will miss you," I wiped my tears, only for fresh tears to cascade down my cheeks, "Every day of my life, every single minute and every single step I take."

"My child," He sighed, a lilt of melancholy tainting his ever present smile, "Death is a truth none of us can avoid. It will happen someday. To every one of us. I will miss you too."

I shook my head, the world beating in front of my tired eyes in blaring black and white. This is what grief felt like. Something I have never felt.

Even when that bitch died.

"Come here," He extended his arms. I engulfed him in a hug, his comforting smell only making me cry harder in his chest, "It is time to let your old man go."

His voice reverberated through his chest. I shook my head as he patted my head like I was a child.

"It breaks my heart to say this, but I have a last wish."

I lifted my head, grasping his quivering hands in mine, "Anything, dad! Tell me, what do you want? I will do everything to make it happen."

He smiled sadly, "I want you to marry someone, Avyanna."

My hands clasped around his tightly, shock gripping my core.

This couldn't be happening.

No.

My breath came out in soft pants as I let the statement sink in.

He wants me to get married.

"Dad?" I mumbled, hoping that he would brush it off as a joke.

"Throughout your life, you have barely made any friends. You were always so immersed in your world of domination and pride that you failed to meet your match. It is imposing but I have a feeling that if I do not push you, you will remain alone forever."

"Dad, hold up," I shook my head, the tears gone, "You want me to marry because I am lonely?"

"Yes exactly."

"This is blackmailing," I mumbled, "You know I would never deny your wishes."

"I know," A sly look entered his frail features, "I am your father after all. You had to get all those from somewhere."

"But-" Who do I marry? How do I get married? That too, in a couple of days? "Do you have anyone in mind?"

"I was hoping you would," My dad merely got the words out, "Is there a boy you like? Or maybe-"

"Dad-"

He must have seen the despair on my face because his smile slipped so quickly, "You truly don't, do you? Oh god, did I add to your predicament? It's fi-"

I grabbed his hand, silencing him with a hard look, "You didn't do anything dad," I didn't want to add to his guilt he was seemingly carrying, "I do have someone in mind. If you wished for the mountains to be moved, I would have made it happen. This is a comparatively small wish."

Smile crinkled in his teary eyes as he patted the back of my hand, "The boy you like, does he have a name?"

I took a sharp breath, "He does. Why don't you meet him? I will bring him by tomorrow."

"I have always dreamed of seeing you in a beautiful lahenga as I married you off," Tears slipped from his eyes, "You are marrying a man that would love you like his next breath. A man that would put up with your anger and resilience. A strong match, just for you. A man that would always make you feel full and content."

His voice quivered with something akin to fear and I understood where it came from.

He feared that I would die lonely, wishing that my father hadn't left me early.

He feared that one day I would break so much that I wouldn't be able to pick myself up.

That day, I would search for him and he wanted me to have a groom so that I felt less broken.

"Don't cry, Yana," He wiped my tears, "You look so broken when you cry. It is so rare, it shatters my heart."

"No one is going to replace you dad," I spat angrily, "If you think me marrying someone will make me forget your absence, you are fucking wrong!"

"Yana," He narrowed his eyes, mustering his best dad voice he could when he was on his deathbed.

"No one is you, dad," I whimpered, "No one."

"Don't say that," He patted my head, "Even the strongest one of us needs love and attention. You will have someone that will love you more than me, my prayers are with you."

I sniffled, wiping my tears.

"Now go, it is time for me to rest," He let out a sigh, "Bring the boy tomorrow. I need to talk to him."

I nodded, wiping his face and placing a kiss on his forehead, standing up.

"Yana?"

I looked back.

His smile was so bright and pure, "Remember to eat and sleep well, if you don't want me to haunt you that is."

A chuckle left me as the second wave of fresh tears overtook me.

____________________________

"Ms. Mikhail!"

"Ms. Mikhail, is it true that Mr. Mikhail might not make it?"

"Please answer us!"

"Did Mr. Mikhail go into a seizure due to overwork?"

"Is it true that you are pregnant?"

"Are you taking over your father's company?"

I raised a hand, effectively silencing the reporters that cluttered around me like a herd of sheep. Their cameras flashed everywhere.

Suddenly, I was thankful for the dark sunglasses I had worn.

"Mr. Mikhail," My voice was so hollow, it was unrecognisable, "As you know, went into a cardiac arrest three weeks ago. The operations were successful but it resulted in a rupture that could not be fixed and is proving to be fatal. Thank you."

I walked in front as my bodyguards, pushed them aside, making my way to the car. Several unnecessary questions were thrown at me but I decided to ignore them.

Putting my earpiece in, I called Jenna, swivelling the car around.

"Ms. Mikhail good-"

"Find me a groom, you have 12 hours."

A moment of silence pertained from the other side of the phone, so deafening, for a moment I thought the line had cut off.

"Wh-What?"

"Did you not hear me?" I hissed, "FIND ME A FUCKING GROOM! PAY THEM, BLACKMAIL THEM, PERSUADE THEM, I DON'T CARE! FIND ME A GROOM IN A SUITABLE AGE RANGE!"

"O-Okay, mam, I will see what I can do-"

I cut off the phone.

I drove straight to the office, pissed and heartbroken. I was in a mood to burn the whole building down. I did not know why I yelled at the poor woman. She was not a dating website that had suitable bachelors at her whims and commands.

I entered the building, feeling everyone's curious gaze. They saw that I had left in a frenzy of despair. They knew their CEO, the actual one, was on deathbed.

I could not meet their eyes. They were employees that worked hard for the past two weeks since our original blueprint was leaked. I couldn't tell them the news when I knew they loved and respected my father as their mentor.

Rauf Mikhail was loved by all.

"Jenna," I called out as the elevator brought me to the top floor, walking over to her desk, "Did you find anything?"

"Two candidates so far mam but no one is willing to get married within a day."

"I don't have time," I let my vulnerability shine on my face, "Isn't there anything we can do? I will write him 20% shares of the company."

"We can hire an escort but then again, marriage is kind of heavy and-"

"Ms. Mikhail!" I turned to find Roman who looked more dishevelled than anything, "Are you alright? I called you."

What if I-

An idea sparked in my head, like a lightning bolt, hitting me and shaking me to my core.

It amazed me how fast my mind worked.

Of course it does. I am a fucking genius.

I knew it was an impulsive decision but it felt right. Roman was caring, he cared for the cat, he was pleasing to eyes and not to mention had submissive qualities to him.

I could lure him with wealth and a stable career. Make him sign a contract. Maybe a temporary solution but nonetheless, a solution.

It would be a business deal. I put him out of his misery and vice versa.

Actually it is a perfect plan now that I think of it.

It would be difficult to persuade him but what is life if not a bit of challenge, eh?

"You!" I point to him, making him stop dead in his tracks. Jenna must have sensed something because she frantically shook her head, her eyes widened like a deer in headlight.

I gave her a smug smile that said "Watch me."

She gave me a pleading look that said, "Please don't."

I slowly walked to him. He fidgeted, as if sensing the shift in the space-time. I stopped until I could feel his slow breaths fanning my forehead, the spicy scent of his cologne and the ropes of his bulging muscles were visible through his shirt.

I looked up, giving him a smile.

The sapphire turmoil in his eyes fastened to a raging storm. It was done. My mind had been made, there was no turning around.

"You will marry me. Today."

The sound of something falling resonated loudly around the empty hall.

____________________

BOOM

There's your marriage of convenience trope 😌

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