Thorns and vows

🌹chapter four 🌹

Chapter Four

Shira walked through the door of her house, the weight of the world pressing down on her shoulders. The moment she stepped inside, the familiar scent of her stepmother's cheap floral air freshener filled her nostrils, an uncomfortable sense of foreboding washing over her. She had always loathed the smell, a constant reminder of the woman who had made her life unbearable.

“Shira! Is that you?” her stepmother’s voice rang out from the living room, filled with a false sweetness that instantly set Shira on edge.

“Yes, it’s me,” Shira called back, forcing herself to sound casual. She had been rebellious all day, vowing to stand her ground after the phone call. If her stepmother wanted a fight, she was ready to give it to her.

The living room was a spectacle of luxury, the kind that Shira's father adored. Rich fabrics, expensive furniture, and gaudy decor made it look more like a showroom than a home. She stepped inside, and her stepmother, dressed in a bright red dress that accentuated her figure, was perched on the edge of the couch, flipping through a magazine.

“Finally! I thought you were going to make us wait all night,” her stepmother said, barely looking up.

Shira felt the heat rise to her cheeks, her rebellion simmering just beneath the surface. “I had a meeting, remember? Some of us have jobs.”

Her stepmother looked up, a look of disdain washing over her face. “Excuses, excuses. You could have come home earlier if you really wanted to.”

“I didn’t want to, okay?” Shira snapped back, her voice laced with frustration. “I’m not going to drop everything just because you decided to have a dinner party.”

Her stepmother’s eyes narrowed, her lips twisting into a sneer. “You think you’re so independent, don’t you? But you’re just a little girl who needs to be reminded of her place.”

Shira took a deep breath, forcing herself to stay calm. “I know exactly where I stand, and it’s not under your thumb.”

“Shira!” her father’s voice boomed from the hallway. He appeared in the living room, a towering figure in his tailored suit, looking every bit the successful businessman. “What’s going on here?”

“Nothing, Dad,” Shira said quickly, her heart racing. She didn’t want to create more tension in the family, especially not in front of him. “Just a little disagreement.”

“Is that what you call it?” her stepmother scoffed. “Your daughter has no respect for this family or our guests.”

“I respect our family!” Shira shot back, glaring at her stepmother. “But I’m not going to sit here and let you treat me like a maid. I’m not your servant.”

Her father’s brows knitted together, his expression a mixture of concern and disappointment. “Shira, that’s enough. We’re having guests over tonight. I need you to behave.”

“Guests?” Shira’s heart sank. "Is it Uncle Sam that's always finding a way to steal from us?"

“Enough!” Mr. Giovanni said, his voice thunderous. “Go get ready. We’ll be eating soon.”

Shira turned on her heel, marching down the hall to her room. The moment she stepped inside, she slammed the door behind her, feeling the surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins. It felt good to stand up for herself, even if it was only for a moment.

She went to her closet, pulling out a stunning body-hugging dress that clung to her curves in all the right places. It was deep emerald green, a color that contrasted beautifully with her tan skin and made her feel powerful. She knew it would turn heads—especially the heads of those guests she had no interest in impressing.