The sight of the mansion, my father's home, always struck me as a fairytale castle. Every visit, it seemed like a grand, magical place, though I was never truly welcomed inside. I wasn't the Cinderella of the story, rising from a cursed childhood to enter the castle. Instead, I was the illegitimate child born from a fleeting, convenient romance—my father's infidelity and my mother's abandonment had marked me as an outsider.
My one hope was to ensure that I would never give myself to someone I didn't truly love.ANd even if the romance between us would be short lived, and If I were to be abandoned, at least my child would be proof of a love I had. I vowed to provide my child with the love and adoration I had never received, to make sure they felt like they had a place to return to, even if the world rejected them. I wanted them to feel a sense of belonging and security that I had always lacked.
The weight of my emotions began to spill out all at once. I could tell by my heightened emotional state that my period was approaching, making me feel like one of the most pitiful people on the planet. I knew that these feelings would pass in a week, so I tried to convince myself it was just a temporary low.
Wiping the tears from my eyes, I picked up my bag and headed toward the mansion. The guards opened the doors for me, a surprising gesture given my usual invisibility. The walk from the entrance to the main doors seemed interminable. The wealthy often used cars to navigate their sprawling estates, but I was too poor for such luxuries and had to rely on my own two feet. It took me a good five minutes to reach the main doors, and as I approached, a dark, unsettling aura seemed to envelop the place. Something felt profoundly wrong, gnawing at my gut and making me uneasy.
The maid, who had clearly been waiting for my arrival, clicked her tongue in annoyance and cast me a disapproving glance. "You are late," she said curtly.
I knew I was late; I didn't need her to be so disrespectful. I kept my thoughts to myself, aware that any response from me could be twisted and used against me within the house. They needed reasons to defame me in my father's eyes, so I learned to speak as little as possible. I knew my place well, especially knowing that the maids were often regarded with more respect than I was.
I nodded silently and followed her through the grand hallways. As I walked, memories from my childhood resurfaced. The last time I had been here was probably three years ago. I was led into the living room, a vast space designed with minimalism that somehow oozed opulence. They truly were wealthy.
In the room, my grandfather sat on a single sofa, his face perpetually etched with a frown, the lines on his forehead seemingly permanent. To his left was a younger version of him—my father. He was undeniably handsome, a trait that had drawn my mother to him. But she failed to see his true nature, an annoying trait I am left to bear. Next to him sat his wife, a strikingly beautiful woman with a kind, motherly demeanor. She had aged like fine wine, and sometimes I wished her nurturing side was available to me. I longed for the comfort of a mother's embrace, like Fleur's. The woman's gaze was fixed on me, but it felt cold, as if she were scrutinizing me rather than offering any warmth.
My eyes shifted to the two people seated across from them: my two older half-siblings, Magnus and Mavis. Magnus seemed indifferent to my presence, while Mavis wore a cunning smile, clearly ready to provoke me once more. This was my family, my "loving" family.
"Do you know what time it is?!" My father exploded, his face flushed with anger as he stood up from his chair. I glanced at my watch and nodded nervously. "It's 4:45," I replied, feeling a wave of unease wash over me. The presence of these people made me lose my common sense and confidence. I had no idea how to respond, especially when I knew he was using the time as a metaphor for my tardiness.
Mavis smirked at my discomfort, clearly amused by my nervousness. My father, meanwhile, scrutinized me with a cold, assessing glare before he bared his fangs.
"I had an interview," I said, hoping it might help explain my tardiness.
"Is that more important than family?" he growled.
Did he just say family? I had to look up at him in shock. After treating me like a punching bag, it was astonishing that he now considered me part of the family.
"Sit down, Max!" Grandpa's authoritative voice cut through the tension, and my father turned to him as if pleading for another moment to humiliate me. Thankfully, Grandpa's intervention prevented further degradation.
"You sit down as well," Grandpa said, his voice leaving no room for argument. I noticed that there were no more seats available, but Grandpa seemed to expect me to join my so-called siblings on the couch. Are they for real? The idea of contaminating their air felt absurd, but the sudden shift in their behavior was unsettling.
Mavis shifted closer to Magnus, leaving me with a heavy heart and some space on the couch.
"Now that you're all here, I have an important announcement to make," Grandpa began. I looked in his direction, trying to show that I was paying attention.
"We are considering expanding our business. For that, we will be—"
Why am I here for this family meeting? Shouldn't this be a personal matter? They never included me in their usual meetings or important discussions, so why now? Distracted, I missed some of the details, but since I was looking straight at Grandpa, he assumed I was engaged.
"So? What do you all have to say about it?" he asked Magnus first.
Shit! How did I zone out at such a crucial moment?
"Grandpa's decisions are always the best. I have nothing to add and will follow your instructions," Magnus responded, his words barely helping me understand the situation.
(continued)