HER LIFE

YOU!

Valentina's POV

Here I am, sitting in a private jet for what feels like an eternity. It's been six hours, though I can't say it surprises me; my biological family is loaded, and I've gotten used to the perks that come with that wealth. My friends have been blowing up my phone, asking if I've landed, if I'm okay, if I need anything. I can barely muster the energy to roll my eyes at their concern. "I'm fine, control your panic," I mutter under my breath. It's not like my situation is going to change with every message.

Ten minutes later, the air hostess glides down the aisle, her demeanor calm and collected. "We'll be landing shortly," she announces, her voice smooth like silk. I nod, barely registering her words as my mind drifts back to the family that's been absent from my life for so long.

When the plane finally touches down, I'm jolted back to reality. As I step off the jet, I'm greeted by a line of two sleek black cars surrounded by a cadre of guards, their expressions stoic and intimidating.

I reach for the car door, but a guard opens it for me instead. I slip inside, feeling the weight of resentment build in my chest. They don't even want to acknowledge the sister they left behind for years. My gaze drifts outside as we drive, anger bubbling just beneath the surface. My eldest brother, Andrew, was someone I used to admire; now, he's just a cold stranger. The memory of the day I was sent to the orphanage looms large in my mind. He didn't even bother to say goodbye.

Caught up in my thoughts, I don't realize we've arrived until the car comes to a halt in front of a grand mansion. It's an opulent sight, with guards stationed at every entrance, and I can't help but feel a twinge of disdain. This place should feel like home, yet it feels foreign.

As I step out of the car, I catch sight of Andrew standing at the entrance. He wears a cold, unwelcoming expression, as if someone shoved a stick up his backside.

"Welcome back, Valentina," he says, his voice devoid of warmth.

"What do you mean by 'back'? This is my first visit," I reply, matching his tone with my own icy demeanor. I can see his eyes narrow slightly, a flicker of confusion passing through.

"You don't remember me?" he mutters, almost to himself. I can tell his mask is slipping, just for a moment, before he hardens his expression again.

"No," I say bluntly, the word hanging heavily between us.

He motions for the guards to grab my luggage, and we begin walking inside. The opulence of the mansion is suffocating; high ceilings, lavish decor, and the distant echoes of a life I've been removed from. I keep my head held high, refusing to let them see how much I despise this situation.

As we enter the main foyer, I take in the grandeur around me. I feel like an intruder, a ghost returning to haunt a past that should have stayed buried. The atmosphere is tense, filled with unsaid words and hidden agendas.

"Let me show you to your room," Andrew says, his tone still clipped. I can sense the frustration simmering beneath the surface, but I feign indifference.

"Why don't you just let me wander around? I'm sure I'll find it myself," I retort, a smirk creeping onto my face.

He pauses, clearly taken aback by my attitude. "It's not safe for you to roam alone."

I chuckle, a sharp sound in the still air. "Oh, I didn't realize I was so valuable to you"

Andrew clenches his jaw, and I can see the internal struggle playing out in his eyes. I can't help but enjoy this little game. As we walk through the sprawling hallways, I take note of the family portraits lining the walls—each face a reminder of the life I was denied.

As we made our way through the grand hall, I took note of the similar doors lining the walls, each with nameplates. My room was at the end of the hall. Andrew opened the door, and I stepped inside, taken aback by the beauty of it. But I quickly composed myself.

"So, do you like it?" he asked, a hint of expectation in his voice.

"It's alright," I replied, feigning indifference.

"Good. You can rest; dinner is at 8 PM. Make sure to be on time," he instructed.

"Okay," I replied, closing the door behind him. The moment I was alone, I began to explore my room.

The bed was massive, the kind you could get lost in. A large television dominated the wall opposite the bed. I spotted a door and opened it, revealing an exquisite bathroom with marble finishes. Then, I found another door that led to an enormous walk-in closet stocked with the latest fashion—hair straighteners, curlers, you name it.

As I continued my exploration, I discovered a staircase that caught my attention. Curiosity piqued, I climbed the steps, and what I found took my breath away: a stunning indoor pool, its water glistening under soft lighting. I had always had a pool addiction; the sight of it ignited a sense of nostalgia. This place could be a sanctuary, but I reminded myself that this was also a prison of sorts, tied to a family I despised.

In my childhood, Elilah, one of the few who cared for me, had taught me how to swim. He had tried to convince our father not to send me away to the orphanage. The bond we shared made him one of the few family members I held any affection for.

As the time approached 7:50 PM, I decided to take a quick shower and change for dinner. I examined my outfit in the mirror, satisfied with the reflection staring back at me. "Damn, I look good," I thought.

After charging my phone, I made my way to the dining room, mentally mapping the layout of the mansion I had memorized during the flight. Arriving early, I took a seat at the long table, scrolling through Instagram to pass the time.

Minutes later, the room filled with my biological family, though three chairs remained empty. The clicking of heels caught my attention, and I turned to see a woman entering—my mother, Isabella. Beside her walked my father, Victor, and Andrew.

Victor took his place at the head of the table, while Isabella settled on his right. Andrew approached, and I realized I was sitting in his seat.

"Valentina, sit there," Victor commanded, pointing to the chair at the far end of the table, which was another prominent position.

I walked over and took my place, observing as maids entered to serve our meal. To my annoyance, they didn't set a plate in front of me initially.

"Where is her plate?" Isabella asked, her tone icy.

"She can't eat that; it contains garlic, and she's allergic. I informed the chef to prepare something different," Elilah replied.

Isabella's expression shifted, revealing disappointment. She didn't remember my allergy—hardly surprising, considering the time we hadn't spent together.

Finally, my plate arrived, and I began eating while the conversation flowed around me.

After we finished, Isabella turned to me. "Val, we need to discuss something in the morning. Please join us in the meeting room."

"Sure," I replied, my voice devoid of enthusiasm.

"Okay, everyone can head to their rooms now. We'll reconvene tomorrow. Good night," Victor announced, and the others echoed the sentiment. I remained silent as I walked back to my room and slipped under the duvet.

Midnight came, and I still couldn't sleep. Frustration bubbled within me. Suddenly, I heard footsteps approaching my door. I quickly shut my eyes, pretending to be asleep.

The door creaked open, and footsteps entered my room. A figure approached my bed, and I sensed the air shift. Then, I felt a droplet of water land on my face—someone was crying. I felt gentle fingers caressing my head, followed by a kiss on my forehead.

"It's good to have you back, Princess," a voice whispered.