Four

Raven's POV

It's been two months since I caught my sister, Blair, in bed with my boyfriend. Scratch that, ex-boyfriend, Jamie. The shock of the betrayal still stings, and my life has been on repeat since the incident. I just sleep, eat, read, attend lectures, and repeat the whole process.

Telling my mom about Blair’s infidelity was a disastrous mistake. Not only did she dismiss my accusations as baseless, but she also decided to punish me by cutting off my allowance. According to her, I was disrupting the harmony of our "perfect" family with my groundless claims.

Sometimes, I just want to run far away, but I have nowhere to go, so I'll just wait till I graduate from college, and then, I'm out of here.

To the outside world, I have the perfect family. I mean, when you have a mom who's successful like mine and my sister who's one of the best models, you'll get what I mean.

My mother runs a modeling agency, while Blair also works at the agency as a model. She's the face of the company, the crown jewel in my mother’s empire. My mom takes pride in Blair’s success, and I'm pretty sure she'll be taking over ABES (A Beacon Of Elegance And Success) when my mom retires. Oh, and by the way, that's the name of my mom's agency.

I've always dreamt of working with them, I had so many ideas for the company. I didn't want to work as a model but as a fashion designer, I planned on transforming ABES from a modeling agency into a full-fledged fashion house. But my mom never listened to any of my suggestions, she said I'm not fit to be a model and I'm not pretty. So I stopped trying to explain to her since she didn't want to give me a chance to speak.

I have always wondered what I did wrong, and how my mom and Blair developed this hatred for me.

One time I thought of showing her my designs so she'd know I was good at making designs for clothes and shoes, but then I heard her telling some of her partners that I was as good as not having a daughter because I was good for nothing.

She was on a business call and I guess the person asked why I wasn't working in the agency yet. It was at that moment I decided not to tell anyone about all the drawings I had. Knowing my mom, she would probably take them from me and launch them, claiming she made them and I couldn't do a thing if she did. No one would believe me. Not many people knew I even existed.

Sitting at my desk, I buried myself in my textbooks. My final exams were just around the corner. My concentration was shattered when my mother stormed into my room, she looked at me as if I was the ugliest thing she'd ever seen.

"Hi, Mom," I said, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes.

She scrutinized me with a disdainful glare. "I see you've become rude, is that how you greet your elders now?" Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

"No Mom, I'm sorry. I was just surprised to see you here. I mean, you haven't been here for a very long time. It's just..." I stammered, my anxiety making my words tumble out in a disorganized rush. I always got nervous whenever she was around, you could say I was terrified of her.

"Might I remind you who the owner of this house is?" She snapped. Her glare was like a physical weight, making it hard to breathe. "Did you think this was a holiday home?" I flinched. Her words were harsh, but they were nothing new.

"Besides you should be happy I even graced this dumpster with my presence." Yeah, narcissist much? No wonder she and Blair get along so well. They only love themselves.

"I'm talking to you." She snapped her fingers in my face. Shit, I zoned out again.

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear you." I tried my best not to upset her.

"I see you've managed to get yourself into a comfortable routine," she continued, "but let's be clear, you're an adult now. It’s time you start thinking about your future so you won't have to keep munching off of me."

Her words were like a knife twisting in my gut. "Mom, I... I don't understand what you mean." I asked though I had a sinking feeling about where this was headed.

"What are you, 5?" She scoffed. "At twenty years old, you should be prepared to support yourself. Blair managed to buy her place at eighteen." She said, her voice rising with every word. "You're twenty, and you’re still living off me. You're good for nothing."

I felt a surge of anger and frustration. "You can't compare me with Blair, Mom. I don't get the same support as Blair does. I barely get my allowance, and it’s only enough to cover my tuition fees. How am I supposed to afford an apartment?"

Her response was a chilling smile.

"Need I remind you that ABES isn't the only place in the world where you could get a job? Blair deserves her position because she’s earned it. You, on the other hand, don’t even deserve the things you get." Her words were like ice-cold water, numbing my senses. "You've been cut off. As soon as you graduate, don't expect any support from me. You’ll be out of here, and to make things clearer, Mr Clinton will be considering you as his new wife." She declared with finality.

The room spun as her words echoed in my mind. How could she do this to me? I barely had time to process her departure before the door slammed shut, leaving me alone with my thoughts. The weight of her words pressed down on me, making it hard to breathe. I was so weak right now, was that my mom or someone else? How could she even say that to her daughter? What did she mean by I don't deserve any of this?

All these questions kept haunting me through the night. I need to find a way to escape whatever plans she made with that old man.

~~~~

The next day, I decided to visit my dad's grave. I may not have met him, but I always felt like my life would have turned out differently if he were here.

Blair and my mom were out at the Barretts for dinner, which meant I had the house to myself. I headed to the cemetery, the quiet graveyard was like a balm to my frayed nerves. I spent a few moments by the grave, speaking to the man I never knew, sharing my frustrations and dreams with him.

~~~~

My mom cut me off just like she said she would, and she still hasn't bothered to know how I was surviving without any allowance. I knew a day like this would come, which was why I got a job as a waitress, but I couldn't help but think she would be worried about me. I guess a part of me wanted her to care, a part of me craved her affection. I know working as a waitress wasn't the glamorous start to a career I had hoped for, but it was a start.  I did my best to remain positive despite the grueling hours.

Now I have to balance school and work; it's tough, but I don't have a choice. I read on my breaks, then continue at night. I have some money saved up but I still need to work if I ever want to live on my own. I wasn't going to sit and wait for my mom to kick me out or, worse, marry me off to some old man.

"Dahlia, take this order to the VIP section, table 6." Mariah, the head chef, ordered. "Hurry up, we still have to attend to the other customers."

I grabbed the order and headed to table 6. As I was serving the customer, my hands trembled slightly, causing me to spill wine on his suit.

"Oh my..." Before I could even apologize, I accidentally knocked over the plate of food, splattering it all over him. "Shit. I'm so sorry, sir; I didn't mean to." I blurted out, my face flushing with embarrassment. I recognized him immediately, he was the same man that almost knocked me down on the street last night.

His face darkened with anger, and I braced myself for the inevitable tirade. I think he also remembered who I was but his phone rang before he could speak. As he spoke to the person on the phone, irritation was evident on his face.

"What's going on?" He demanded, his voice laced with frustration as he spoke into the phone.

I hung around nervously, waiting for him to finish his call. When he hung up, he looked at me with a mixture of irritation and exasperation. He groaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose. I wonder who that was, better still if he's going to take his anger out on me. I just started working here.

"Don't just stand there, show me the washroom." He ordered. And I did a silent prayer so I don't lose my job today. Oh God please save me today.

I led him to the restroom, trying to remain calm. He began removing his shirt, and I felt a surge of panic. I was on the verge of leaving when he spoke.

"And where do you think you're going, little girl?"

"Back to work, sir," I replied, trying to sound as composed as possible.

"Did I say you could leave?" His tone was icy.

I swallowed hard. "Is there anything else you'd like me to do for you, sir?" I couldn't afford to annoy him further.

"Here, clean this up and be fast about it." He handed me his stained shirt, and I set to work with a heavy heart.

The restroom was quiet except for the occasional rustle of clothing and the sound of him speaking on the phone. "Did you get my text?" His anger was palpable, and I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. This was my second week on the job, and I had already made a terrible impression.

A knock on the door interrupted my thoughts. A man in a suit entered, carrying a bag.

"What took you so long, Fredrick?" The customer asked, his voice strained.

"I'm sorry boss, there was..." Fredrick tried to explain but was cut off by Mr. Grumpy over here.

"Save it, I don't have time for excuses." He snapped, taking the bag and pulling out a fresh shirt. He had another shirt and still asked me to clean up the first one.

The silence was heavy, he looked at me with a mixture of frustration and something else. For a second I thought I saw a glimmer of desperation in his eyes.

"You can leave that." He told me. He was on his phone and it seems he was trying to reach someone but couldn't. "Come here." He called for me.

"I'm sorry about your shirt sir." I apologized, not knowing what else to say.

"Listen," he began. "I need a favor. I want you to marry me."

I blinked, unsure if I had heard him correctly. "Excuse me!"

"It's just temporary," he continued, clearly sensing my confusion. "I need to sort some things out, and once that’s done, you’re free to leave."

I stared at him, disbelief etched on my face. "With all due respect sir, I can't marry you." Was this guy mentally unstable? How did that sound in his head?

He sighed, running his hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. "I understand your hesitation. But it’s a complicated situation. I’m under pressure to resolve certain issues quickly, and this is a way to buy some time."

I shook my head, feeling overwhelmed. "I don't know what kind of problems you’re dealing with, but this isn’t something I can just agree to without understanding more. Besides,  temporary or not, marriage is a big commitment. I’m not sure this is something I can handle.”