Chapter 3 Into the Lion's Den
[Sera]
I stood at the edge of Harper Town's main road, clutching my small suitcase. I wished Harmony could have been here to see me off, but she'd left three days ago on one of her spontaneous hiking trips, completely disconnected from phones and technology as usual.
A sleek black limousine appeared on the horizon, looking completely out of place against the backdrop of our small town's weathered buildings. It glided to a stop in front of me, the tinted windows reflecting my nervous expression. The uniformed driver stepped out, his eyes sweeping over my plain appearance with poorly concealed judgment.
"You're the Ginger girl?" he asked, doubt evident in his voice.
"Yes," I replied quietly.
He looked me up and down once more. "Right. You must be some distant cousin or something they felt obligated to bring back." His tone made it clear he didn't believe I could possibly be directly related to the Gingers.
The driver reached for my worn suitcase, grunting as he lifted it. "What does a little girl like you have in here? Rocks?" he muttered. "Always packing their whole lives when they travel." He awkwardly maneuvered it into the trunk with unnecessary difficulty.
"Watch your step," he said, not bothering to help me in. "These seats cost more than most houses in this... town."
The car's interior was like nothing I'd ever experienced—buttery leather seats, polished wood panels, and the subtle scent of luxury. I perched carefully on the edge of the seat, afraid to sink fully into its plush embrace.
As we drove away from Harper Town—away from the Walkers, away from Harmony Harrison's little cottage with its overgrown garden and myriad cats—I felt a strange mix of relief and dread. My mind drifted to the man I would soon marry. What kind of person would he be? Would he look at me with the same disdain as this driver?
The Ginger estate emerged from behind ornate iron gates, a sprawling mansion of stone and glass. When the car pulled into the circular driveway, an elderly man in a formal suit was waiting at the entrance.
"Welcome to Ginger Estate, Miss Sera," he said with a slight bow as the driver opened my door. "I'm Walter, the house manager. Your father and Mrs. Ginger are currently occupied with business. They should join you for dinner this evening."
I nodded, unsure what to say. "Thank you for meeting me."
"May I show you to your room? You must be tired after your journey."
As Walter led me through the mansion, I couldn't help but gape at the opulence around me. Crystal chandeliers, original artwork, furniture that probably cost more than the Walker family's entire home.
We were climbing the grand staircase when excited voices and splashing sounds drifted through an open patio door.
"What's that?" I asked.
"Ah," Walter looked slightly uncomfortable. "Young Miss Marissa is hosting a small gathering by the pool. Your half-siblings and their friends."
Before I could respond, a girl's voice called out, "Walter! Who's that with you?"
A beautiful blonde teenager appeared in the doorway, wearing a designer bikini with a sheer cover-up. Her curious eyes widened when she saw me, then narrowed with calculation.
"Oh my god, it's her, isn't it? Daddy's long-lost daughter!" She bounded over, surprising me with her enthusiasm. "I'm Marissa! You must be Sera!"
Walter cleared his throat. "Miss Marissa, I was just showing Miss Sera to her room—"
"Nonsense! She just got here—she doesn't want to be cooped up inside." Marissa linked her arm through mine. "Come meet everyone, sis! They're all dying to meet you."
Walter looked concerned. "Miss Sera's luggage—"
"Have it sent to her room, Walter. I'm kidnapping her!" Marissa giggled, practically dragging me toward the pool area.
"But I don't have a swimsuit," I protested weakly.
"Don't worry about that," she said with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I have extras."
The pool area was like something from a luxury resort magazine. An infinity pool overlooked the manicured grounds, with about fifteen teenagers lounging on designer furniture, drinks in hand.
"Everyone!" Marissa announced. "This is my long-lost half-sister, Sera. She's been living in the countryside." The way she said "countryside" made it sound like "sewage plant."
All eyes turned to me, sizing me up in my simple sundress. I spotted a younger boy, maybe fourteen, watching me with undisguised curiosity.
"That's Talon, our brother," Marissa confirmed, following my gaze. Then she gestured to a tall, handsome boy with blond hair. "And that's Ronan Thompson."
Ronan stood up lazily, his eyes scanning me like an X-ray. "So this is your 'special' sister?"
"Ronan, don't be rude," Marissa chided playfully, tapping his arm. "This is Ronan Thompson, Uncle Dominic's son."
Thompson family. I suppressed my surprise. This boy was actually a member of that political dynasty.
A curvaceous dark-haired girl approached, holding a cocktail. "I'm Sadie Carson, Marissa's best friend."
"Let's get you changed!" Marissa insisted, pulling me toward the pool house. Inside, she handed me a swimsuit that was clearly too small—a fact I realized must have been intentional when I reluctantly emerged onto the pool deck, tugging uselessly at the fabric.
The conversation quickly turned to their futures:
"I'm heading to Princeton this fall," one boy boasted, "Third-generation legacy."
"Yale for me," another chimed in. "Business school's already holding my spot."
Marissa flicked her hair over her shoulder. "I've chosen St. Andrews. Nothing compares to the European experience."
Ronan casually joined in: "My friends and I decided on Halloway. I heard they have the wildest parties." He winked at the two boys beside him.
My heart sank. Halloway—the university I'd dreamed of, and they saw it merely as a party venue.
"Hey, country girl," one of Ronan's friends moved closer, his fingers deliberately brushing my shoulder. "Need private tutoring? I can teach you how city people have fun."
Another boy whispered in my ear: "Did you apply to Halloway too? We could be 'good friends'." His tone made the words sound filthy.
Sadie suddenly said, "Ronan, if you're going to Halloway just for parties, watch out. Uncle Barrett might beat you until your own mother won't recognize you."
Ronan's face changed instantly, his smile freezing. "Don't joke about that, Sadie."
"I'm not joking," Sadie said, taking a dramatic sip of her cocktail. "Last time you caused trouble at the company party, Uncle Barrett nearly made you wet yourself with just one look."
Everyone laughed, but I noticed Ronan's smile was forced.
"Uncle Barrett is just too serious," he tried to save face. "But it's true, nobody dares to cross him."
"He's so hot," Sadie suddenly said, her eyes sparkling. "More charming than all you boys combined. If he ever showed up at parties like this, I would..."
Then, as if choreographed, they all turned to me.
"What about you, country girl? Did you even finish high school?" Marissa asked, her sweet tone belying the malice in her eyes.
I stared at my feet. "Yes... I graduated."
"And college? Let me guess—not in your plans?" someone else prodded.
I shook my head, unwilling to mention my scholarship. "I... don't have plans for college yet."
Marissa's smirk was triumphant. "See? Not everyone needs education. Some people have... other talents."
"Wait," a girl with glasses interrupted. "Sera Ginger? Aren't you the one who got the full scholarship to Halloway? My cousin was rejected, and she mentioned your name."
The circle fell silent. All eyes turned to me, including Marissa's, whose expression had frozen into something between shock and fury.
"Halloway?" she hissed. "They wouldn't even look at my application!"
"There's no way," Sadie muttered, eyes narrowed suspiciously. "She must have... connections."
Ronan smirked. "Or other persuasive talents. I wonder which professor she charmed her way through."
"Or whose bed she warmed," one of his friends added with a snicker.
