"Move over, nerd," a voice snapped behind me as I squeezed my tray closer to my chest.
I turned slightly, rolling my eyes as Claire, the reigning queen of Westbridge University, strutted past me like the hallway was her runway. Her heels clicked, her long black hair swung like a shampoo commercial, and her minions followed close behind, laughing at something fake.
"Morning to you too," I muttered under my breath.
"Don't let her bother you," said a soft voice beside me.
I turned and smiled.
Liana, my best friend and roommate at school. Tall, glasses always slipping down her nose, and her curly hair in a puff today. She was the only good thing about this place.
"She doesn't even know my name," I said.
"She knows. She just won't say it because it makes her feel important to pretend you're invisible."
I snorted. "Success through denial. Classic."
We both grabbed seats at our usual lunch table—far corner, under the window, next to a dusty vending machine no one used.
"You hear the news yet?" Liana asked, biting into her apple.
"If it's about the Johnsons, yeah."
"Girl, it's like the royal family returned from exile. Everyone's acting like we're suddenly in a fairy tale."
"More like a horror story," I muttered.
Liana laughed. "Come on. You grew up with them."
"Exactly."
She raised an eyebrow. "That bad?"
"You ever been called a broomstick for five straight years?"
She blinked. "Oof."
I looked across the cafeteria. A group of girls sat together, whispering. Their heads turned to me.
Oh no.
Here it comes.
Three girls broke away from the table and walked over—tight skirts, glossy lips, and that look in their eyes like I was meat in a lion's den.
"Hi," the blonde one chirped. "You're Mia, right?"
I blinked. "Yeah?"
"You live with the Johnson brothers, don't you?"
My mouth opened slightly. "Well, my mom works for them, so—"
"Are they single?" the tall girl cut in, ignoring everything I'd just said.
"Do they have Instagram? Or are they like, too cool for that?"
"Do they smell good?" the third girl asked, with total seriousness.
Liana choked on her juice.
I stared. "They… what?"
"I mean, they look like they'd smell good," Blondie said with a dreamy sigh.
I shook my head. "You should ask them yourself."
The tall one scoffed. "If we could get near them, we would. But they just showed up and skipped orientation. It's like they don't care."
"They don't," I said under my breath.
"Anyway," Blondie continued, "if you could, like… tell Ryan that I liked his photo from two years ago, that'd be great."
"I—what?"
They were already walking away.
Liana burst out laughing. "You poor thing. You're going to be their message board."
"No way," I said. "I'm invisible, remember?"
"You're the maid's daughter, Mia. To them, you're probably the most exciting piece of gossip in this entire school."
Great.
Later that afternoon, Liana and I sat under the old oak tree near the library.
"Honestly though," she said, "what are they even doing back? Didn't they go to like... boarding schools in Europe?"
"Yeah," I replied. "London. Switzerland. Wherever rich people go."
"And now they're just... back?"
"Apparently their dad wants them to take over parts of the family business."
"That young?"
"They're not that young," I said. "Caleb's twenty-three. Ethan's twenty-four. Ryan's... I don't know. Nineteen?"
"Still young to be running companies."
"They're not running anything yet," I said. "They're just here, walking around like they own the air."
"Well," Liana said with a smirk, "they kind of do."
I rested my head back on the tree. "I just wish they'd forget I exist."
"No chance. You're the girl with the front-row seat."
That evening, back at the mansion, I passed by the sitting room. Loud music was playing—hip-hop, bass thumping through the floor.
I peeked in.
Ryan was on the couch with his feet up, shirtless, texting with a smirk on his face.
Caleb was pacing, phone to his ear. "I don't care what the board says, Dad said I handle the pitch now. If they have a problem, they can talk to him directly."
Ethan was sitting silently by the window, reading something on a tablet.
I tried to sneak past.
"Hey," Caleb said, not even looking up. "Mia, you see my black jacket? The one from Milan?"
"No."
"Great. Probably in the laundry. Again."
Ryan glanced up. "She's been spying."
"I wasn't—"
"Caught her lurking in the doorway," he teased. "Trying to get a peek at the abs?"
I flushed. "I was just—"
"Relax, house mouse," he said. "We don't bite."
Caleb finally looked over. "Unless it's business. Then we bite hard."
Ethan didn't speak. He just watched me with those unreadable eyes.
I turned and walked away quickly.
Upstairs, I muttered to myself.
"If only my mom had known who my father was," I said under my breath. "We wouldn't be stuck in a house where I get mocked like it's a game."
She didn't. It was a one-night stand. No name, no face, just a blur in the past. And now we lived like shadows in this mansion of wolves.
Real wolves.