Lines We Cross

Chapter 17

YN and Elizabeth sat on the edge of the bed, both aware that this was the last quiet moment they'd have before YN had to face her family. Elizabeth's hand rested lightly on YN's leg, her touch grounding, though there was an unspoken tension in the air.

Elizabeth broke the silence first, her voice teasing but gentle. "You look like you're gearing up for a battle."

YN exhaled, running a hand through her hair. "Feels like it."

Elizabeth's expression softened as she leaned in slightly, her voice low. "You know you don't have to take on the world all by yourself."

YN managed a small smile, her eyes flicking to Elizabeth's. "I think that's the only way I know how to do it."

Elizabeth smirked, leaning forward to press a kiss to YN's forehead. "Well, just remember, you've got someone in your corner now."

There was a moment of quiet, the room filled with a sense of calm intimacy. But YN knew it couldn't last. She had to go—had to face the expectations waiting for her at the estate. She stood, grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder before turning back to Elizabeth.

Elizabeth gave her a soft smile, but there was something playful behind her eyes. "So, about that paper..."

YN groaned, rolling her eyes. "You're really going to bring that up now?"

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying herself. "Just because we're..." she paused, searching for the right word, "closer, doesn't mean I'm going easy on you. That paper better be ready."

YN shot her a sassy look. "It's done. You think I'd risk not impressing you?"

Elizabeth chuckled, standing to walk her to the door. "Good. Now go before we both get in trouble."

YN stole a quick kiss, her lips brushing against Elizabeth's for just a second before she pulled away. She gave one last look at Elizabeth, a mixture of fondness and nerves swirling in her chest. "I'll text you when I'm back," YN said quietly.

Elizabeth nodded, her eyes lingering on YN. "Be careful."

YN slipped out of the room, moving quickly down the hallway and taking the private elevator to the garage. She slid into the black Ferrari, the engine rumbling to life as the car pulled out of the hotel and onto the quiet street.

———

The estate came into view like a reminder of everything she was supposed to be—grand, imposing, steeped in legacy. As the car rolled through the gates, YN could feel the weight of expectation settling onto her shoulders. She was the Sterling heir, after all. It didn't matter if she'd snuck away or wanted a break from it all. It never did.

Inside the drawing room, her parents were waiting. Alexander Sterling stood by the fireplace, his posture as commanding as ever, while Claudia sat primly in one of the high-backed chairs, her gaze cool but attentive. YN could tell they were both less than pleased with her.

"You decided to show up after all," Alexander said, his tone clipped, cutting straight to the point.

YN forced a tight smile as she stepped further into the room. "I didn't realize I had to check in every second of the day."

Her father's eyes narrowed, his expression hardening. "When you leave an event like that—our event—without a word. People noticed, YN."

"You left us to explain why our daughter, the Sterling heir, vanished," Claudia added, her voice cold but measured. "That's not something we can afford."

YN's jaw clenched, the frustration building as she glanced between them. "You act like I owe everyone my time. Like I'm not allowed to just... disappear for a minute."

Alexander's tone sharpened. "This isn't just about you. This is about what it means to be a Sterling. You don't get to walk away when it's inconvenient."

"That's all it ever is with you two, isn't it?" YN shot back, her voice rising. "It's always about the image, about what people think. What about what I want? What about the fact that I'm constantly trying to live up to your impossible standards?"

Claudia's gaze turned steely, her voice firm. "You've always known what's expected of you, YN. We've never asked for more than what you're capable of. This is your responsibility."

YN felt the words cut deeper than she wanted to admit. Responsibility. Duty. Perfection. The familiar weight pressed down on her, but this time, something inside her snapped. "I'm tired of it," she said, her voice breaking slightly. "I'm tired of always being the perfect daughter, the perfect Sterling. Do you even care what I want? Or is it just about making sure the Sterling name stays spotless?"

Alexander took a step forward, his voice lowering, but his words sharp. "We've built a legacy. One that you benefit from, whether you like it or not. Do you think we got here by being careless? By putting our personal feelings first?"

"I'm not saying you were careless," YN shot back, her hands balling into fists at her sides. "But I'm not you. I don't want to live like this forever—constantly under a microscope, constantly having to be perfect. I want something else."

Claudia's eyes flashed with a rare hint of anger. "And what exactly do you want, YN? Do you want to throw everything away? Walk away from this family, from what we've built?"

"I don't want to walk away," YN said, her voice strained. "I just want to breathe. To figure out who I am without you telling me every step of the way."

There was a tense silence, the air in the room thick with unspoken words. YN's chest heaved, her heart pounding as she held her parents' gaze. She expected more pushback, more arguments, but for once, neither of them spoke. Her father's jaw tightened, his expression unreadable, while her mother's lips pressed into a thin line.

Finally, Alexander spoke, his tone quieter but still firm. "You've never let us down before, YN. We expect you won't start now."

YN swallowed the bitter taste in her mouth, the anger simmering just beneath the surface. "Maybe you should start expecting less," she said, her voice cold. "Because I'm done trying to be everything you want."

Without waiting for a response, YN turned on her heel and walked out of the room, her heart still pounding in her chest. She needed air—she needed to get away from the suffocating pressure that always seemed to follow her here.

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