Leilani.
A few days after we returned from Pennsylvania, I bought a cozy fancy looking duplex in Manhattan, situated in the heart of New York City. I also got myself a pink Audi R8 for easy mobility, and tomorrow, I was going to resume at my job in Frostclaw. Inc so it was safe to say that I was completely excited.
My face felt flushed and I ignored the heat as I breezed through high end cloth stores whilst surfing for clothes that would fit my new position.
However, I had just sashayed into Saks Fifth Avenue when a small family picking out clothes caught my eye. I froze mid step.
It was my family, and as usual, Chalice was the centre of attention.
My breath caught in my throat and something like a bile settled in my stomach when for the first time in my life, I finally realized how so different from them I was.
I mean, they all had hairs the same shade of auburn. Even their blue eyes looked alike with varying intensities, and the smiles on their faces were just the same— cold, aristocratic, demeaning.
I glanced away.
"Welcome Madame. What would you like to get from us today?" A young sales girl with the name tag Abby said softly as she walked up to me gracefully. "We have a bunch of clothes that just got in today. Would you like to have a look?"
"Of course!" I answered with a smile that matched hers, letting her whisk me further into the boutique.
The girl was so friendly and sweet that I almost forgot how I had been on the edge of turning back when I saw my family earlier. In fact, I had even forgotten about my family altogether until my eyes caught a dazzling red dress.
I gasped. "That's beautiful!"
Abby leaned closer to take a look. She smiled when she saw what I was looking at and whispered; "That's a custom dress made by Kulture. Do you want it?"
I nodded without hesitation. "Yes."
However, I had just walked up to the dress to admire it when a different hand suddenly grabbed it from beside me. A feminine voice spat; "Dad, mom, I want this dress!"
I froze.
The voice sounded familiar.
Too familiar.
Rage coiled deep in my belly, causing me to ball my hands into fists as I raised my head to meet the gaze of the intruder.
"I saw it first, ma'am." I gritted out politely, "…so if you do not mind, you'll have to leave that one for me."
Chalice frowned. "Dad, mom! It's Leilani! She says I cannot have the dress I want!"
As soon as she said that, the all too familiar stony gazes turned to me, and if I was anyone lesser, I would've cowered in fear. I would've backed down. I drawled; "No one's stopping you from getting what you want, Chalice. All I am saying is that I got here first. I picked the dress first… and I have every right to get it."
The look of horror on Chalice's face had me gritting my teeth in rage, and as per usual, crocodile tears began to fall quickly from her eyes. Her knees hit the floor before I could understand what was happening, and then—
"Leilani, you don't have to always treat me like this. I am your sister! Why do you keep targeting me?"
The sales girl, Abby, was stunned.
I froze in shock, my rage and confusion coiling so tight within me, I could barely make sense of exactly what I was feeling. I dropped my gaze. "Chalice stand up."
"I won't… not until you promise to stop targeting me. Not until you stop treating me so poorly in public places." She sobbed pitifully, causing my confusion to double with each passing second.
However, I was just about to point out to her that I wasn't the one targeting her when suddenly, I felt a sharp hit across my face. My head fell to the side, my cheeks burning and my eyes widening when I was met with the frightening cold eyes of my father.
Oh no, not my father. Mr Blackthorne.
But strangely, I realized that I was no longer scared of him like I usually was. I pushed my hair away from my face and looked up at him. "What was that for?"
Father—Mr Blackthorne— seemed taken aback. His mouth hung open in surprise.
"Leilani! How dare you bully Chalice?!" Now, it was my mother—his wife—who cried from behind him. "When did you become so unruly?"
"She has always been unruly!" Father growled but I simply rolled my eyes, ignoring both of them.
I turned to the sales girl. "How much is the dress?"
"One hundred grand." She answered quickly, but before either Chalice or her 'protectors' could speak, I gave her my card and seethed;
"Swipe it. Also, pack up everything I've picked today. I have better things to do with my time than to stand here entertaining a bunch of cowards and their rotten daughter."
My parents gasped. Chalice looked so red she could easily pass for a tomato.
"How dare you?!" Father growled, raising his hand to strike me across this face, and this time, I stepped toward him until we were almost standing chest to chest.
My eyes met his and held. And I didn't flinch. If anything, he did. I spat; "Do it."
"Don't dare me."
"I dare you."
His hand connected with my face again, and even though I felt the metallic tang of my blood in my mouth, I didn't cry out. I simply turned to Chalice who was still kneeling and slapped her so hard, my palms hurt.
Chalice cried out.
"That. That is me bullying her, Mr Blackthorne!" I snarled in rage. "I've finally struck her. And trust me, this is the first time I've ever done that, contrary to the lies she's been spreading about me."
Chalice was glaring daggers at me. I smiled at her and muttered; "Also, I think you should know that it felt really exhilarating to finally hit you."
"You—" she began to say but quickly stopped to turn towards her parents. "Dad, mom!"
But I was no longer paying any attention. I smiled at her and whispered; "my lawyer has reached out to you multiple times, Ms Blackthorne. However, I wonder why you still haven't paid for the dress you ruined. Is it until I charge you to court? Is it until you're made to pay double the price?"
If looks could kill I would've been dead by how much she was glaring at me. She muttered; "It was a mistake, and the court will understand that."
"Then let's see if they do after I pull out the CCTV footage of that day. Let's see how they'll believe it was a 'mistake' after the world sees how you intentionally tipped your wine glass. How about that?"
She gasped again. And with that, I turned away from them, picked up my shopping bags and card, and waltzed out of the boutique.
For the first time in my life, I didn't care that their gazes were boring holes into my skin. I didn't care that they hated me. I simply got into my new car, turned to them and flashed them a smile.
They could all rot in hell for all I care.