Golden Melody (Editing)

Chapter 144

Chapter 144 – The Crown of Eighteen

Miexha’s Point of View

Time is a thief with velvet hands.

One moment, I was a starry-eyed girl falling in love. Now, I am the mother of five—and somehow, my firstborn just turned eighteen.

Eighteen.

Jamie Verra Dom—my sassy, bossy, terrifyingly brilliant daughter—now stood poised in a ballroom fit for royalty, wearing a gown that glittered like a constellation stitched into fabric.

I blinked slowly, absorbing the surreal glamour of the night.

Wasn’t it just yesterday I was worried about passing finals?

Now I’m watching my eldest give orders to her siblings like a seasoned general preparing for diplomatic battle.

> “Shellie, fix your hair—red suits you, babe. Xiejay, stop moving the centerpiece, you're not in an art museum. Ariel, if you trip down those stairs in heels, Dad will faint. Xefariel… you're perfect, carry on.”

Shellie, our firebrand second daughter, rolled her eyes and gave a mock salute. She had recently acquired a personal assistant—Aurelei, Ofreigha’s son—who had already declared, with full ceremony, that he would marry her someday.

Of course, Jayson nearly dropped dead when he overheard it.

> “My daughters are not for public bidding!” he thundered, his mayoral voice echoing through the Dom Mansion like thunder in a cathedral. “He’s banned! Banned from the premises!”

Poor Aurelei. Exiled like a romantic prince. But he and Shellie simply became sneakier. They tiptoed through the mansion like spies in a cheesy telenovela.

Meanwhile, Ofreigha and I drank our tea in peace, watching it all unfold with the smug delight of mothers who already see the wedding invitations being designed.

> “Shellie in a wedding gown would be divine,” she whispered once.
“And Aurelei holding her bouquet,” I added, dramatically faking a tear.

As for my one and only son, Xiejay—he was the favorite boy. Grandparents fought over who would buy him the most extravagant gift: a toy spaceship, a glowing crown, a miniature mayoral desk with buttons that actually worked.

> “He is the Dom heir!” my father-in-law boomed.
“He will inherit the Wayne name!” my father shot back

Xiejay, of course, took it seriously.

> “I’ll be mayor after Daddy!” he once declared.

Until Jamie folded her arms and replied without blinking:

> “I’m the eldest. I run first. You can be vice mayor.”

They argued like pint-sized politicians, while the twins—Ariel and Xefariel—watched from the sidelines like royal observers sipping invisible tea.

Ariel, my giggling rebel, looked like an angel but had mastered the art of smuggling. She once tried to hide an entire cake under her bed. I’m still finding frosting on the wallpaper.

Xefariel, on the other hand, was my quiet shadow. All soft blinks and silent hugs. She rarely spoke, and even Jayson struggled to get more than a nod from her.

> “You want Daddy to buy you dresses?” he’d ask sweetly.
She would blink, then silently curl up in my lap.

She didn’t need words. Her love was quieter, but somehow heavier. Like gravity.

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And now, here we were. Jamie’s eighteenth birthday.

The ballroom gleamed with chandelier light and golden garlands. A string quartet played something elegant near the stairwell, while camera flashes danced like lightning over silk and satin. Every politician, every family friend, every curious youth in the capital had come to see Mayor Dom’s firstborn daughter debut.