Chapter 5 Trading My Future
[Sera]
I've learned that five days can feel like an eternity when you're living in a house filled with people who despise you. The Ginger mansion may have been luxurious, with its marble floors and crystal chandeliers, but to me, it was nothing more than a beautifully decorated prison.
Talon had made it his personal mission to "welcome" me into the family in his own revolting way. His eyes followed me everywhere, lingering on parts of my body that made me want to scrub myself clean. Every time we passed in the hallway, he'd find a reason to brush against me or place his hand on my lower back.
"Just being brotherly," he'd say with that sickening smirk whenever I flinched away.
Yesterday was the worst. I was heading to my room when he cornered me in the empty hallway, pressing me against the wall with his body.
"Come on, Sera," he whispered, his breath hot against my neck. "We both know we're not really siblings. There's nothing wrong with having a little fun."
When his lips tried to claim mine, instinct took over. My knee came up hard between his legs, and he doubled over with a howl of pain. I didn't wait around to face the consequences—I just ran.
Marissa was no better, though her cruelty took different forms. Whenever she and Ronan came home from their dates, I'd catch him staring at me across the room. His eyes would linger a little too long whenever I passed by, something Marissa noticed with increasing irritation.
"Can you stop being so pathetically obvious?" Marissa had hissed at me yesterday after catching Ronan watching me as I reached for a book on a high shelf. "He's just feeling sorry for you."
That night, I woke up screaming to find my bed crawling with cockroaches. Dozens of them, skittering across my sheets and into my hair. When I finally managed to turn on the light, hysterical and shaking, I heard Marissa's laughter from the hallway.
"Oops, must have left the terrarium open," she said, leaning against my doorframe in her silk pajamas, not even trying to hide her satisfaction. "You should be careful—I heard some of them can cause nasty rashes. Would be a shame if anything happened to your face."
The next morning at breakfast, she'd stumbled in at dawn with smudged makeup and the same clothes from yesterday. "Jealous?" she'd asked me, noticing the dark circles under my eyes. "Don't worry, not all of us need to sell ourselves to old men to get attention."
The hypocrisy was stunning, considering I'd found white powder residue on the bathroom counter after she'd used it. Her pupils were constantly dilated, her moods swinging from manic laughter to venomous rage within minutes.
I quickly learned that survival in this house meant staying invisible. Penelope turned every interaction into a chance to berate me. When I washed the dishes, she'd inspect each one and make me rewash half of them. "Were you raised in a barn? Look at these water spots." The floors were never clean enough, my bed never made properly. She'd run her finger along shelves I'd just dusted, then shake her head in disgust. Some days, she'd declare my chores unsatisfactory and send me to bed without dinner.
Five days of tiptoeing around the house, cleaning until my hands were raw, sleeping with a chair against my door, and counting hours until escape. I was desperate for the semester to start—honestly, I'd even welcome marrying whatever old man they kept mentioning if it meant leaving this house. Anything seemed better than one more day under this roof.
That evening, a team of stylists invaded my room. I sat motionless as they transformed me—my hair arranged in elegant waves, makeup applied with expert precision, and finally, a stunning champagne gown that gave my skin a warm glow. When they finished, I barely recognized the woman in the mirror.
"You look like a princess, Miss Ginger," one of the stylists gushed, genuine admiration in her voice. "The color makes your features absolutely luminous."
For a brief moment, I allowed myself to feel beautiful. Then the door opened, and Marissa appeared with Penelope, both dressed in evening gowns.
"Oh my," Penelope said, her smile tightening at the corners. "They've certainly done their best with what they had to work with."
My stomach clenched at the reminder of my fate tonight.
The door flew open again as Ronan sauntered in, leaning casually against the doorframe in his designer tuxedo. Marissa clung to his arm, while Sadie burst in behind them, practically bouncing with excitement.
"Well, well," Ronan drawled, his eyes traveling over me in that way that always made me uncomfortable. "They managed to clean you up pretty good. Almost didn't recognize you."
"Poor old Melvyn might have a heart attack when he sees you," Marissa said with a fake laugh. "Don't worry about his teeth, though. I'm sure they won't fall out when he kisses you... probably."
Sadie circled around me, assessing my appearance with exaggerated scrutiny. "Not bad, not bad at all. But like, totally wasted on some ancient fossil when we're going to be at THE event of the season!"
"Such a shame you'll be spending the evening with that grandpa," Marissa continued, adjusting her designer dress while flashing her bracelet—clearly a gift from Ronan. "We're attending Ronan's birthday celebration in the Grand Ballroom of the Celeste Hotel. Everyone who's anyone will be there."
"Wait, isn't that where Sera's dinner is?" Sadie asked, looking between them.
"Literally right next door," Marissa replied with a smirk. "The Sapphire Dining Room shares a wall with the ballroom. So close to the party of the year, yet so far. You might even hear our music while you're trying to make small talk with your geriatric date."
"And guess who's finally going to show up?" Sadie squealed, clasping her hands together. "Barrett Thompson! Oh. My. God. The Ice Prince himself! Do you think he'll dance with me?"
"As if he'd notice you," Marissa rolled her eyes, pressing herself closer to Ronan. "You're just another face in the crowd."
"A girl can dream," Sadie sighed dreamily. "He's literally the hottest bachelor in the country. Those eyes, that jawline, that billion-dollar empire... I've practiced what I'll say to him at least fifty times in my mirror."
"Whatever," Marissa smirked, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. "Being the birthday boy's girlfriend means I'll be meeting all the important Thompsons anyway. Everyone's been dying for an invitation to this party."
"And you'll be what?" Ronan's gaze flicked dismissively toward me. "Playing nurse to some old dude who probably needs help cutting his steak?" He snickered, pulling Marissa closer.
The restaurant was the most opulent place I'd ever seen, with crystal chandeliers and hushed conversations. My father greeted an elderly man who rose from our table, his bald head gleaming under the lights.
"Melvyn, may I present my daughter, Seraphina," my father said, his smile not reaching his eyes.
Melvyn's gaze traveled over me in a way that made my skin crawl. "Even more beautiful than her pictures," he said, his dentures clicking slightly as he spoke.
Throughout the grand ballroom next door, champagne flowed freely as the city's elite mingled in designer gowns and tailored tuxedos. Crystal chandeliers cast a golden glow over their carefree laughter, the clinking of expensive glasses forming the soundtrack of privilege. I could hear the faint melody of a string quartet playing behind the double doors that separated us from that world of wealth and power.
Meanwhile, here I sat in this private dining room, being sold like merchandise to a man old enough to be my grandfather. The intimate table for two, the dimmed lights, the bottle of expensive wine—all of it designed to create romance, but instead highlighting the grotesque nature of our arrangement. My father had practically gift-wrapped me for Melvyn Richards, whose business alliance he desperately needed.
Throughout dinner, I sat rigid with fear, barely touching my food. The nightmare had started the moment we sat down, when Melvyn's hand first crept onto my thigh under the table. Instinctively, I slapped it away, earning a momentary flash of anger in his eyes.
