Queen of Steel: Throne of Lies

Chapter 2

ONE YEAR AGO

I found myself in a luxurious boutique filled with rows upon rows of dazzling shoes, each pair more exquisite than the last. The air was filled with the scent of fine leather and the soft tinkling of fancy chandeliers overhead.

As I glided through the aisles, my fingertips caressed the supple suede of a pair of crimson stilettos, the iconic red sole gleaming in the soft glow of the boutique. I slipped them on, feeling a surge of confidence—

BZZZZ—but I was interrupted.

BZZZZ—by a noise.

BZZZZ—I snoozed my phone and tossed it to the other side, wanting to go back to my pleasant dream.

"Miss Tahlia, it's time to wake up! You don't want to be late on your first day," Helga chirped with her squeaky morning voice.

"Leave. Now," I snapped, burying my face deeper into my silk-covered pillows and dismissing her with a wave of my hand. I heard her scurry away obediently. Good girl, she knew who sent her paychecks.

I took my time freshening up and going through my morning beauty ritual. A 'queen' must always look her best to keep the commoners in their place. When I finally made my way to the closet, I faced a dilemma—what to wear on this momentous day?

My eyes settled on a smart black Versace pantsuit with a lacy white blouse. Hm, much too safe and boring for someone of my stature. I was no basic bimbo. A sly grin spread across my face as I spotted the perfect skirt—a fab Gucci pencil skirt with edgy silver details and a slit cut just high enough to tantalize. Paired with my favorite red Louboutins, I would slay.

Click-clacking down the staircase, I felt powerful as my honey-blonde hair waves bounced with each step. In the dining room, the chirpy maid informed me, "Your father left a message. He wishes you good fortune today and asked if you can remind your mother about this month's board meeting."

"How thoughtful of him to pass along a message through the help," I retorted sarcastically. "Did Father say anything else?"

"No, miss."

"And has Mother called?" I asked, though I already knew the answer. No. There had not been any direct communication from the elusive Mommy Dearest. Big surprise. Her 'royal highness' hadn't had time for me since her latest scalpel treatment.

"No, miss, she hasn't." I noticed a brief pang of pain on the rosy pale face that was staring back at me. I guess most commoners would be confused by my situation and even get the outrageous idea that they should, um, pity me. Nothing could be further from the truth.

"You're excused," I announced coldly before she could drone on. Poor naïve girl, she would never understand the burdens of being me – Tahlia Clarisse Steelman, proud heiress to the Steel Conglomerate empire.

I liked to think of myself as a modern-day Paris Hilton. My life had been meticulously planned since before my conception. I was born to one day rule our family's multi-billion-dollar steel empire with an iron fist. So naturally, I relished playing the part of queen bitch.

I shot a text to my mother asking how the French Riviera was treating her majesty and if she would actually attend this month's board meeting. No response, as expected. I had learned to accept that she was just not what you would call mother material.

With a toss of my honey-blonde waves, I grabbed my Prada handbag and walked out to the circular driveway where my flawless blue Bentley Continental shone like a royal chariot awaiting its queen.

Before getting into the luxurious ride, I stopped to admire my reflection in the side mirror. The well-dressed socialite looking back at me exuded confidence and power. A satisfied smirk graced my lips. "Seriously, I'm too fabulous for the plebs," I said to my reflection.