Aurelia grew up without much love from her mother, and she never thought her real dad would ever come into her life. But then, he did. Now, she wonders if it's too late for him to rescue her from the darkness her parents left her in, or if there's s...
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The day has come. I've been dreading it for the past three weeks. In that time, I've slowly distanced myself from all of them. Not that we were ever particularly close—but still, we'd begun to warm up to one another. Some more than others.
Now, standing in front of the mirror, I barely recognize the person looking back at me.
This uniform is a joke. A royal blue skirt that ends just a few inches above my knee, white high stockings with royal blue and Bordeaux red stripes at the top, and to tie it all together, a Bordeaux red vest with a golden lion embroidered on the right breast. Underneath, a pristine white dress shirt. Every inch of it screams wealth, power, tradition.
It doesn't scream me.
I look utterly ridiculous. And worse I feel ridiculous. As if just wearing this uniform is a betrayal of everything I actually believe in. I don't belong here. I don't want to belong here. I don't want to be associated with people who think having last season's handbag is a tragedy, or who complain about their imported skincare shipment being late as if it's the end of the world.
They live in a bubble of luxury and privilege, and I've been shoved into it like an unwanted guest. Their lives revolve around meaningless status symbols and shallow perfection, and somehow, I'm expected to blend in. Smile, nod, be agreeable. Be grateful.
But I'm not grateful.
Pulling me out of my thoughts, Lorenzo appeared in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame like he owned the space.
"Not looking too bad," he said with a crooked smile. "But between us? I always hated the uniform. The guys have fewer options than you girls do—so chin up, kiddo."
I didn't respond right away, just gave a small nod, not trusting myself to speak without sounding bitter.
He paused for a moment, eyes flicking to the mirror behind me as if searching for something he couldn't quite say. Then, with a lighter tone, he added, "Come on. Breakfast is ready."
I hesitated. But I followed.
"Are you excited, mi hija?" Santiago asked, his voice warm and full of pride as he looked up from his newspaper.
No. I wasn't. Not that it mattered to anyone.
I hated the very thought of being in a room full of these fake people, pretending like everything was perfect. Pretending like I belonged. I didn't.
Instead of answering, I shoved a spoonful of cereal into my mouth and kept my eyes on the bowl. Silence was easier. Safer.
From across the table, Christìan was watching me. He always does.
Since I arrived, I've had this unshakable feeling that he can see right through me—like he's reading pages I never gave him permission to open. And as much as I'd never admit it out loud, being seen is terrifying. Especially in a world where you've spent so long hiding pieces of yourself just to survive.
Lorenzo broke the silence with a playful scoff, tossing a grape at Fernando, who didn't even blink. "She's clearly thrilled," he said with a grin. "Can't you see the joy radiating from her spoon?"
Santiago chuckled.
Ramòn, of course, didn't bother looking at me. He hadn't said more than a handful of words to me since I got here—and none of them had been kind. The air around him always felt colder, tighter, like I was a mistake that hadn't yet been corrected.
I looked back down at my cereal, the milk already turning warm.
In this house, the table is full—but I've never felt more alone.
"Come on, I'll drive you to school," Christìan said, fishing his car keys out of his pocket.
"Don't forget the guards," Santiago added, not looking up from his cup.
The reminder made my stomach twist with unease again. It was one thing to feel out of place—it was another to be followed like some fragile thing that might break.
Christìan glanced at my face and, without hesitation, said, "They can come in a separate car today."
Santiago nodded in quiet approval.
Then he looked at me. "Come here, peanut," he said, beckoning me over with a small smile.
I stepped forward, unsure, but when he wrapped his arms around me, I let myself sink into the embrace. It was warm, solid, grounding. Something inside me cracked open.
Tears stung the corners of my eyes. My heart swelled and ached all at once, racing with anxiety and something else—something I hadn't let myself feel in a long time.
Love. Real, raw, unscripted love.
He pulled back just enough to kiss my forehead, and for a moment, I felt like I couldn't breathe—not from panic, but from the overwhelming weight of this unfamiliar comfort. This... warmth. The kind I'd been missing for so long, I'd almost forgotten it existed.
"If anyone says anything to you," he said, smiling now, voice full of that playful sternness only a father could manage, "you kick their ass. Got it?"
I let out a small, startled laugh, still caught off guard by everything. "Okay."
And just like that, I wasn't sure if I was walking into my worst day... or my first real one.
The car ride was filled with a quiet, comfortable silence. It didn't feel awkward sitting there with Christìan—just calm. Safe, in a strange sort of way. I didn't even realize we'd stopped until I saw the school gates through the windshield.
"Kiddo," he said, breaking the silence, "if anyone in there thinks they can mess with you, you call any of us. And find Ramòn immediately."
I blinked, surprised he'd said Ramòn of all people.
Christìan didn't wait for me to question it. "I know you think you have no one here," he continued, voice steady, "but you might want to reconsider that. All of us would shield you from any kind of harm. No matter what."
His words settled into me slowly, like rain sinking into dry earth.
"Now," he added with a smirk, "after all that sentimental crap... let me give you a hug. Come on."
I stared at him, a little dumbfounded. But I leaned in anyway, giving him a brief, awkward hug. He held on a second longer than I expected before pulling away with a pat on my back.
"Have fun," he said as I stepped out of the car. "And remember what I said!"
Before I could respond, I was greeted by two of the guards waiting beside the door, stiff in their dark suits.
"Let's get you inside, Miss Aurelia," one of them said with a short nod.
I nodded back, adjusting the strap of my bag on my shoulder as the gates loomed ahead. My first real day here had begun.
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