Chapter 2 Chapter 2
19 years later
Maria’s POV
My eyes flutter open to the sight of pale sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows of my room. The light catches the crystal chandelier above my bed, scattering tiny rainbows across the ceiling.
For a few seconds, I just lie there, cocooned in warmth and luxury. The silk sheets are smooth against my skin, the cashmere blankets perfectly layered, never too heavy or too light.
My bed feels like a cloud, custom made just for me. This is my sanctuary, my throne, and I savor it before the day begins.
I stretch my arms above my head and let out a slow, satisfied breath as another day at Crestwood Academy awaits me, a day where I, Maria Zanders, will glide through the halls like royalty.
Right on cue, I hear the familiar rush of footsteps outside my door. A soft knock follows, though they never wait for me to answer. The door swings open, and three maids sweep in like dancers in a perfectly timed performance.
“Good morning, Miss Maria!” they chime in unison, voices bright and eager.
Clara, the head maid, carries a silver tray laden with breakfast, perfectly cut fruit, still-warm croissants, and freshly squeezed orange juice in a delicate crystal glass. Behind her, Lila moves to the windows and pulls the curtains back, flooding my room with golden light.
Rose is already at my chaise lounge, laying out my Crestwood uniform with practiced precision.
I push myself up against the tufted headboard, rubbing my eyes delicately, careful not to smudge last night’s moisturizer. “Morning,” I murmur, my voice soft and sleepy.
Clara sets the tray on my lap, then steps back respectfully. “We’ve prepared your favorite this morning, Miss Maria. Shall I pour your tea?”
“Yes, please,” I say, reaching for the warm cup she offers me. The steam curls around my face as I take a sip, the floral taste of chamomile and honey instantly soothing.
While I eat, Clara hovers nearby, listing off my schedule. “Your mother asked me to remind you about the luncheon with the board members this afternoon.”
I groan softly, setting down my fork. “Again? Tell her I’ll go, but I don’t want to stay long. I have plans tonight too."
“Of course, Miss Maria,” Clara replies smoothly, though I catch the flicker of amusement in her eyes.
As I nibble on a piece of melon, Rose and Lila are already fussing over my uniform. The skirt is perfectly pressed, the blouse crisp and gleaming white, the Crestwood insignia stitched proudly on the blazer. Even the hanger looks expensive.
When my breakfast is cleared away, Lila approaches with my silver hairbrush. “Would you like me to style your hair for you this morning, Miss Maria?”
I slip out of bed and move toward the vanity, my bare feet sinking into the thick cream rug. “Something soft and polished,” I instruct, settling into the chair and meeting my own gaze in the mirror. My hair is one of my greatest assets, thick and dark.
As Lila works, curling each strand with meticulous care, I study my reflection. High cheekbones, full lips, eyes the exact shade of warm amber. People have always told me I look like I belong on the cover of a magazine, and I can’t disagree.
When Lila finishes, I tilt my head slightly and give a small nod of approval. “Better.”
Rose steps forward holding two pairs of shoes, a classic pair of black loafers and a sleek designer pair of flats. “Which will it be today, Miss Maria?”
“The flats,” I say without hesitation. “The loafers make me look like I’m trying too hard.”
“Yes, Miss Maria.”
Once I’m dressed, I take one last look in the mirror. My uniform fits like it was tailored for me which, of course, it was. A diamond pendant rests lightly at my throat, catching the light. My makeup is understated, flawless, the result of both skill and access to the best products money can buy.
“Your car is ready, Miss Maria,” Clara announces from the doorway.
I gather my bag and sweep past them all without another glance, my posture perfect, my steps measured. I descend the grand staircase with the ease of someone who has always belonged at the top.
The polished mahogany banister gleams, and the scent of fresh flowers fills the hall. As I pass, staff members pause to greet me with soft smiles and polite bows.
“Good morning, Miss Maria,” they murmur.
I acknowledge them with a cool nod, my mind already on the day ahead.
Outside, the world sparkles under a layer of fresh snow. The estate stretches in every direction, acres of manicured lawns, sculpted hedges, and the imposing iron gates at the edge of the drive. A fountain sits frozen at the center of the circular driveway, glittering like a jewel in the morning light.
At the bottom of the steps, a sleek black Mercedes waits. Harold, our chauffeur, rushes forward to open the door for me.
“Good morning, Miss Maria,” he says warmly with a little smile.
I slide into the backseat without breaking stride. “Good morning, Harold. Drive carefully. I don’t want to be late, but my hair had better not move an inch.”
“Yes, Miss Maria,” he replies with a small smile.
The car hums to life, and we glide down the private road. I pull out my phone and scroll through my notifications. Dozens of likes on my latest photo. Texts from friends confirming plans for the weekend. A few messages from boys hoping to catch my attention.
My lips curve into a satisfied smile.
On social media, my life looks perfect and why shouldn’t it? Designer clothes,
When we pull up in front of Crestwood Academy, the car’s appearance draws immediate attention from everybody around. The black Mercedes is iconic, as much a symbol of my power as the crest on my blazer.
Students turn to watch as Harold opens the door for me.
