Thorns and vows

🌹 chapter one 🌹

Third person pov

Shira stood in front of her full-length mirror, narrowing her eyes at her reflection. Her thick black hair cascaded down her back in soft waves, barely tamed by the effort she’d put into curling it. She twirled a strand around her finger, her dark almond-shaped eyes scanning her features. Twenty-one years old, and tonight, she felt every bit the rebellious "baddie" people assumed she was.

The dress she’d chosen, a form-fitting crimson satin, clung to her curves—just how she liked it. Her smooth caramel skin glowed under the soft lighting in her room, highlighting her features. Shira was naturally thick, something that seemed to irk her stepmother more with every passing year. But to Shira? She wore it with pride.

“Perfect,” she muttered to herself, turning sideways and giving her reflection one final nod of approval.

"Coming!" Shira called back, rolling her eyes. Silvia, with her tall, slim figure, perfect blonde bob, and designer wardrobe, was always dressed to the nines, but there was nothing warm about her. She looked at Shira like she was a stain on her otherwise pristine family, a reminder of her husband's past mistake. Silvia had made it clear from day one that Shira was unwanted, and in retaliation, Shira had become a master at handling her stepmother with finesse—always knowing how to push the right buttons without crossing the line.

Downstairs, the dining room was already filled with the rest of her family. Her father, Mr. Giovanni, sat at the head of the table, as usual. He was a stoic man, his face aged from the stress of running multiple businesses, but there was a kindness in his eyes reserved only for his family .

Claudia, who sat on the right of their father, was the only one who had ever shown Shira real affection. With her tall, statuesque figure and warm brown eyes, Claudia was the kind of person everyone instantly liked. She had taken on the role of the protector, always standing up for Shira, even when it wasn’t convenient.

Then there was Bianca, the second oldest, and Amelia, the youngest. Bianca was Silvia's pride and joy, with her sleek blonde hair, sharp features, and cold blue eyes that mirrored their mother’s disdain. She didn’t hide her contempt for Shira, always ready with a snide remark. Amelia, the youngest, was only three years younger than Shira. Unlike Bianca, Amelia didn’t genuinely hate Shira; she was just easily swayed, following Bianca’s lead in order to stay in the older sister’s good graces.

Shira descended the stairs with the grace of someone used to walking into hostile territory. The moment she stepped into the room, all eyes turned to her. Bianca and Amelia their eyes narrowing as they saw her. Silvia, their mother, was at the head of the table, sipping her wine like it was a casual evening, but Shira knew better. Every family dinner was a battlefield.

"Well, look who finally decided to grace us with her presence," Bianca sniped, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

Shira sat down, a smirk playing on her lips. "You were waiting for me? That’s cute, Bianca. Didn’t know you cared."

Bianca’s eyes flashed with irritation. "Care? I just like to know when the freeloaders show up. Makes it easier to track the handouts."

Shira arched a brow, grabbing a piece of bread from the basket. "Handouts? Sweetheart, if I were living off handouts, I’d be as miserable as you are. Lucky for me, I actually work."

Amelia, always Bianca’s sidekick, jumped in. "If you call whatever you do ‘work,’ then sure. Let’s pretend like your life has any real purpose."

Shira glanced at Amelia, unimpressed. "Wow, Amelia. That was... almost an insult. If only it made sense. But hey, you tried. Maybe next time."

Amelia’s face reddened, and she crossed her arms, muttering something under her breath. Bianca, however, wasn’t done. She leaned in, her eyes gleaming with malice. "You walk around this house like you belong here, but everyone knows you’re just a mistake that Father felt too guilty to get rid of."

Shira chuckled darkly, leaning back in her chair. "Oh, Bianca. I belong here more than you ever will. See, your entire existence revolves around pretending to be the perfect daughter, when deep down, you’re nothing but a bitter, insecure brat living in my shadow."

Bianca’s mouth opened, but no words came out. She hadn’t expected Shira to go for the throat so quickly.

Silvia rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, her voice dripping with venom. "Shira, enough. There’s no need to degrade yourself any longer. We all know you're not worth the effort." She gave a sly smile, eyes narrowing. "You should really save your energy for something more suited to you, like scrubbing floors or running errands for people who actually matter."

Shira turned her gaze to Silvia, the disdain in her eyes evident. "Oh, trust me, Silvia. I’m not degrading myself. I’m just speaking facts. You know, facts? Something you’re not too familiar with."

Silvia’s calm demeanor cracked, just a little. "You might want to watch your tone with me, young lady. After all, I’ve been far more generous than you deserve."

Shira rolled her eyes, picking at her food. "Generous? Oh, you mean using me as your personal maid while you parade around like you’re some sort of queen? Please. The only thing you’ve ever been generous with is your delusions."

The room went silent for a beat. Bianca looked like she was ready to explode, and Silvia’s grip on her wine glass tightened.

"You ungrateful little—" Bianca began, but Shira cut her off.

"Ungrateful? For what? For being treated like trash? For dealing with you, your psychotic mother, and your wannabe Mean Girls routine for years?" Shira laughed, shaking her head. "The only thing I’m ungrateful for is that I didn’t grow up being as bitter and hollow as you."

Amelia, trying to defend her sister, sneered, "You’re just jealous, Shira. Jealous that you’ll never be one of us."

Shira shot her a look of pity. "Jealous of what, Amelia? Of you? Honey, I’ve seen more personality in a damp napkin. The only thing I envy about you is your ability to be this irrelevant and still think you matter."

Amelia's jaw dropped, and she fumbled for a comeback, but nothing came out. Shira’s words cut deep, and everyone at the table felt the sting.

Claudia, the only one who had been quiet through the entire argument, finally spoke up. "Guys, this is ridiculous. Can we please just have one dinner without all this drama?"

Shira softened her expression slightly as she looked at Claudia. Claudia was the only one who showed her any kindness in this house, and Shira respected her for that. "You’re right, Claudia. I’ll stop. Just as soon as they stop acting like I’m the reason their lives are so miserable."

Bianca stood up, slamming her hands on the table. "You’re a disgrace! A walking reminder of everything wrong with this family! If it weren’t for you, everything would be perfect!"

Shira stood up as well, towering over Bianca. "Perfect? You think your life would be perfect without me? Newsflash, Bianca, your life is a mess because of you, not me. You’ve spent your whole life blaming me for your problems, but the truth is, you’d be just as pathetic even if I didn’t exist."

Silvia stood up now, glaring at Shira. "That’s enough! You will not talk to my daughter like that in this house."

Shira smirked, pushing her chair back. "Your daughter? I thought you didn’t acknowledge  mistakes, Silvia."

Silvia’s face flushed with anger, but before she could say anything, Shira walked toward the door, her heels clicking against the floor with every confident step. She paused at the doorway, turning back to look at them one last time.

"You can all keep pretending like I’m the problem. But deep down, you know the truth. I’m the only real one in this house."

With that, Shira left the dining room, leaving Bianca, Silvia, and Amelia seething in her wake. The sound of their laughter and insults followed her down the hallway, but Shira didn’t care. She’d won this round.