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I tell him what I should have told him years ago, but I had hoped the worst-case scenario wouldn’t actually become reality. I’d do anything to squash those last remnants of hope.
“I was no older than six when my parents started with the insinuations. I was so naïve, thinking I finally did something right to get their attention. My mother would let me play with her jewelry while telling me all about the Family, the responsibilities, and about you and me.”
He freezes, and I offer him a sad smile. “There were moments, Kaden, when I would have done anything to earn their love. And as the years passed, they said my beauty was a waste because you only have eyes for Celine. They said I should become whatever you want.” I shudder at the thought, and so does he.
Kaden is handsome with his classically elegant yet sharp features. His blue eyes carry a depth despite being so young, but I harbor no romantic feelings for him. He has always been like a brother to me. “But I hoped their desire to set us together would disappear with time, because everyone could see what you and Celine have. So, I tried to prove my worth by being the first in my class, behaving, but it would always end up to you and me.”
I stare outside the window at the monstrosity of Grandmother’s mansion. Its architectural design and grandeur reflect the ruler’s almost royal status. Snapping out, I continue, “It’s frustrating not being enough on your own. With every year, I would show my parents one award after another while they looked at me and said, ‘Kaden still only has eyes for her. What does she have that you don’t? You’re a failure.’”
A few tears slip down my cheek, and his eyes soften with sympathy.
“Abi, why haven’t you said anything?”
I shrug, wiping the tears away. “Why would I? To poison you as well?”
“We swore not to lie to each other.”
“You never asked, and no one laughs as beautifully as the broken.”
He approaches me and places his hands on my shoulders. “They haven’t broken you.”
Tell that to the me who can barely eat. Tell that to the me who looks in the mirror and sees I am not enough.
His jaw clenches so hard it might snap with the sheer pressure he applies.
“Tell me I did the right thing, Abi.”
I get in his face. “Yes. He would have killed her, Kaden. Trust me. So you did the best thing. There was no other choice. He’s obsessed with you being with me and not with Celine.”
Why? I have no idea. Why hate a child? But rumors have been circulating that he was in love with Cassandra, Celine’s mother. Apparently, they dated when they were younger until she broke up with him and fell in love with someone else. Grandmother approved of Sebastian even though he didn’t have the necessary pedigree.
Kaden paces around and halts while I stay rooted in place with bated breath. He needs to push his pain aside. We need to outsmart them.
“We have to buy ourselves time, and that means we’ll act like they want us to.”
I breathe a sigh of relief and collapse on the couch. After years of being trapped in a glass cage, it cracked. And hope once again flits through the deserted area of my chest. You can’t stop life from blossoming if you water it a bit.
“What do we do with the other two?”
Just then, Blake storms inside, followed by Bailey, our other two best friends. We’re just four months apart. The only exception is Bailey—she came half a year later than Celine. Bailey is the other person besides Celine, whom Grandmother seems to resent. Why? Another unanswered question.
“What the fuck happened? Celine is gone?” Blake asks, dragging a hand through his black hair.
Kaden looks at each of us. “Are you with me? I don’t care about this corrupt legacy. I care about you.”
“They can’t decide for us. We can’t continue to allow that,” I say.
Blake nods. “No, we won’t.”
“Whatever it takes,” Bailey says in her melodic voice. When I look at her, she could pass for a Disney princess with her long strawberry hair and aquamarine eyes.
We all nod. And as we hug, I promise to myself.
Until I am free, I will not let anyone in.
“Where do you think you’re going?” My stepfather storms my way, fury flaming in his eyes. My mother’s hand flies to her mouth, tears running down her face. Jasmine, my two-year-old little sister, screams at the top of her lungs, and my heart breaks for her.
“Are you fucking happy?” my stepfather yells, backing me into the wall.