Chapter One: The Golden Daughter
Athena Brown had never known a world that didn't bend for her.
At seventeen, she was her father's pride — the apple of his eye, the single reason he smiled even on the days when business turned gray and dull. The maids whispered that if Athena asked for the moon, Mr. Brown would have found a way to hang it above her balcony.
And maybe they were right.
Athena had been raised in silk and sunlight, where her slightest wish became command. Yet, despite the privileges wrapped around her name, she was not cruel. There was something soft beneath her polished surface — a kindness that peeked through the perfection her father so proudly displayed.
Every morning, she woke to the sound of the grand clock chiming seven. The mansion came alive at her first stir — curtains pulled, breakfast trays arranged, fresh roses set in crystal vases. Her black hair spilled like ink across the sheets as she stretched, her skin pale against the dark fabric, her lips still faintly tinted with the rose balm she loved.
"Athena, my darling, you'll be late for your class," came her father's voice, deep and affectionate, from behind the door.
"Coming, Papa," she sang, her voice light as music.
When she finally descended the marble stairs, the entire household seemed to pause. Her father stood waiting, dressed in his morning suit, his eyes bright with the same adoration they'd held since she was a child.
"There's my princess," he said, kissing the top of her head. "You look more and more like your mother every day."
Athena smiled — that soft, practiced smile that melted even the sternest hearts. "You say that every morning."
"And every morning, it's true," he replied.
Breakfast was always a ceremony: silver dishes, folded napkins, laughter that filled the dining room like sunlight. Mr. Brown spoke of meetings and numbers, but his gaze kept drifting back to her — to the daughter who made him forget the weight of his empire.
Everyone knew Athena was spoiled. But not one person could bring themselves to resent her. Perhaps it was because she thanked every servant by name, remembered birthdays, and gave gifts just because she liked to see people smile.
She had everything — beauty, wealth, affection — and yet, deep down, there was a quiet emptiness she could never name.
Sometimes, at night, when the house fell silent and the chandeliers dimmed, Athena would stand by her window and watch the city lights shimmer like a sea of stars. She had a secret hidden deep in heart that is about to swallow her whole and it must be kept hidden till the end.