ONE : OLIVIA

OLIVIA

The plane touched down with a soft jolt, and just like that, my old life was left somewhere in the clouds.

After clearing immigration, I stepped out of the airport, my suitcase rolling behind me as warm air brushed against my skin. The place was loud, voices overlapping, engines humming, people laughing as they reunited with friends and family. I stood there, unmoving, scanning faces that meant nothing to me.

I was alone.

A month ago, none of this had been real. A month ago, it was just my mum and me—like it had always been. Then she sat me down one evening, her voice careful, her eyes uncertain, and told me the truth.

My father knew about me now.

He had found out I existed. And he wanted me to come live with him.

He said he wanted to know me. To make up for the time he had lost.

Mum hadn’t agreed at first. She was angry—hurt in ways she tried to hide. But I convinced her. I told her I was old enough to decide. That I deserved to know where I came from.

And maybe—if I was honest—I needed space too.

I loved my mum. I really did. But sometimes she loved me so tightly it felt like I couldn’t breathe. This felt like a chance to step into something new. Something unknown.

I took a slow breath and tightened my grip on my suitcase handle, realizing too late that I hadn’t collected any contact information. No phone number. No photo. Nothing.

Brilliant, Olivia.

I shifted awkwardly, watching as people were claimed—hugged, pulled into familiar arms. Minutes passed. My chest tightened with every second.

What if he forgot?

What if no one came?

A gentle tap landed on my shoulder.

I turned quickly, my heart jumping, and found myself facing a middle-aged man with neatly combed hair and a posture so straight it felt deliberate. He wore a dark suit that looked expensive without trying too hard.

“Miss Fannings?” he asked politely.

“That’s me,” I replied, forcing a smile.

“I’m here to pick you up on behalf of your father,” he said. “He’s running late due to a business meeting.”

That is......interesting. I have nothing else to say.

“That’s fine,” I said, though disappointment flickered in my chest before I could stop it.

The man took my suitcase without waiting for permission and gestured for me to follow him. As we walked toward the waiting car, I stole glances at him. He looked like the kind of man you saw in movies—quiet, efficient, intimidating in a calm way.

Like a butler.

A ridiculous thought crossed my mind.

Is my dad… rich?

Mum hadn’t told me much. Just smiled faintly and said, “You’ll see when you get there.”

The car waiting outside wasn’t just a car. It was sleek, black, polished to perfection. I hesitated before getting in, suddenly aware of how small my life had been up until now.

I opened the door on the passenger side but the man stopped me.

"You should sit at the back, miss" He said already opening the door for me. I stood for a while and finally got into the car, it seemed like he wasn't going to take no for an answer.

"What's your name?" I asked him as he got into the car behind the wheel.

"You may call me Alfred, miss." he replied. I nodded, definitely a butler, he even has the butler kind of name.

“You can stop calling me ‘miss,’” I said, forcing a tone casual enough to hide the nervous flutter in my chest. “It’s Olivia.”

He glanced at me through the rearview mirror, slightly nodding his head. “Very well, Olivia,” he said.

I leaned back in the leather seats as the drive began. The car was silent so I took out my headphones and played my playlist.

That was when I noticed a compartment beside, curious, I opened it to see that it was filled with snacks, chocolates and bottles of different kinds of drinks.

Oh wow. I might as well help myself to this luxury.

After few minutes of choosing, I took out two bars of my favourite chocolates, a bag of chips and a bottle of some orange flavoured kind of drink.

The city rolled past in a blur. Cars, traffic lights, storefronts I’d never seen before. The sky was already a dusky shade of gold, turning to deep blue with the setting sun. I glanced at Alfred, trying to read him. He was quiet, efficiently doing his job.

I found myself wondering again—how rich is my dad?

The surrounding as we drove past became less crowded, no more busy roads. Until we got to a gate, a private estate I believe.

I sat up and dusted the crumbs of chips off my dress, looking out the window. The car drove past the large gates and we began to drive past big, beautiful, luxurious houses.

To me, it looked like the houses were getting bigger the further we drove down and it didn't look like Alfred was stopping anytime soon.

Twenty minutes passed and I have seen bigger houses for the first time in my entire life. Alfred drove to the front of a gate and he winded the window down talking into the security microphone by the side.

The gates opened and he drove in.

Behind the gates, was a long driveway, rows of trees flanking the long lane. After a minute or two, the massive mansion came into view.

Is now the right time to actually G****e who my father is?

I took out my phone and typed in his name.

Daniel Dawson. CEO of DD companies, he owns restaurant, hotels, bars and lounges. He even owns the entire estate.

Only one thing going through my mind. WHAT THE FUCK?!!

The car finally stopped and I looked out the window to see a man standing. Behind him were four maids, this is just like those rich teen shows I usually watch where rows of maids form a line to greet whoever is arriving.

I stepped down from the car, holding my small bag. I recognise the man, my father.

"Olivia." he said.

I stared at him. He was dressed in an expensive looking suit, probably tailored. His dark hair was combed slick to the back with traces of grey ones. His face looked serious but I could tell he looked nervous, just like I was feeling.

"Hi," I said, I didn't even know what to do, a handshake, a hug or whatever.

We just stood, staring at eachother. The silence stretched, thick and awkward, filled with years that could never be recovered. I wondered if he saw my mum when he looked at me. Or if he saw a stranger he didn’t quite know what to do with.

Then he cleared his throat. “You’ve grown,” he said, and immediately looked like he regretted how useless that sounded.

I smiled. "Yeah, I guess."

"Let's go in." he said. I nodded and he gestured for me to walk ahead, his hand on my back but not fully touching me. "How was your flight?" he asked. "It was good, quite comfortable. Thank you for arranging it." I told him.

The long flight was made bearable because he arranged a first class flight for me.

"It's nothing" he smiled.

The inside was even more luxurious than outside. High ceilings, chandeliers, polished floors that echoed softly beneath our footsteps. The place smelled faintly of expensive cologne and something floral. Everything was immaculate, like no one actually lived here—just passed through it.

“This way,” he said, leading me up a wide staircase. “Your room has already been prepared."

Of course it had.

I just nodded. We walked up the marble stairs. Upstairs , he led me down the hallway passed few doors until we got to one door.

My dad opened the door and we walked in. I looked around, completely shocked. The room was like 5 times the size of my former room.

"Wow,this is...huge."i turned around to see him standing by the door looking at me. "Do you like it?"he asked.

"I would be crazy not to." I replied with a small smile. He smiled back.

"I would leave you to settle down. Dinner will be ready in two hours, this is the house intercom." he pointed to the white equipment placed on the wall.

I nodded, looking around again. He nodded and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

This is my life now, I guess.