: ̗̀➛ 𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 Victoria Miller's world is upended when she learns her life as the Pogue Princess is over. No longer surrounded by her group of friends, she's forced to adjust to a new, unfamiliar reality as a Kook. After a year of her not so...
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VICTORIA LAID ON JJ'S CHEST, her head nestled against him as he absentmindedly played with her hair. The calm of the moment was interrupted when John B stepped out of the bathroom, glancing at the pair with a smirk. "Hey, lovebirds," he clapped loudly to get their attention. "Couldn't you at least make it to the couch?"
"Huh?" Victoria stirred, sitting up and reaching for her phone. "What time is it?"
"Uh..." John B walked toward the kitchen, where the only clock in the house hung on the wall. "11:20."
"Shit," Victoria jumped to her feet, hastily tossing her things into her backpack.
JJ rubbed his eyes, still groggy. "Whoa, whoa, what's the rush?" He slowly rose, running a hand through his messy hair.
"I promised my parents I'd be home an hour ago," she explained, throwing her bag over her shoulder and heading toward the door.
"Come on, V, can't you stay?" JJ collapsed back onto the couch, his arms folding behind his head. "It's not like Sierra and Nick care."
A smile tugged at the corner of Victoria's lips. "Not this time, J." She twisted the doorknob and, just before shutting it behind her, threw a playful "Goodnight, boys."
The Miller house was only a few minutes down the road from the Château, but Victoria preferred staying at John B's. It was calmer there. At home, her parents' constant bickering had a way of eating at her. The walls were thin, and no matter where she went, she couldn't escape the shouting, the insults, the constant noise.
The Château, though... it felt like a second home. John B was like a brother, someone she trusted deeply. Big John, too, treated her like his own daughter. He even made space for her in his life, giving her a drawer for her things, and always sharing stories about his research into the Royal Merchant. But there were boundaries—he never allowed her into his office, a place of mystery and untold secrets.
As Victoria approached the porch of her house, she hesitated, taking a deep breath before reaching for the door. But just as she was about to step inside, the sound of glass shattering echoed from within, followed by muffled shouts. She froze.
One part of her wanted to rush in, to protect herself or her parents from whatever was happening, but another part urged her to stay back. She pressed her ear to the door, straining to make out the voices.
