Chapter 3: Gilded

And that's exactly what happened, our parents got married just two months after our formal dinner. It was a beach wedding on a private southern island. I'd always thought Mom was joking when she said her fiancé was rich, but she wasn't. We'd been comfortable back when Dad was alive, but not this rich. And this? This was a world apart. He took us from the dull city to the island on his own plane. He paid for everything: nice hotel rooms for all the guests, the whole wedding, even small things no one expected. Almost everyone who was invited came. There were famous people in long dresses, politicians shaking hands, and important business people who looked powerful. That's when the truth hit me. Mom's new husband, Uncle Greg, was a billionaire who owned an empire of companies.

The wedding happened as the sun slowly went down, turning the sky pink and orange. It was on clean white sand, with clear blue water all around it. In the middle was a flower arch made of rare white orchids, plus shiny gold parts that sparkled like little stars in the sunset. A hundred white lanterns hung from palm trees above, their warm light moving in the wind, and guests sat on wooden teak chairs covered in pink silk. The party tent was like something from a dream. Big mirrors from floor to ceiling made everything look twice as nice, and lights made of real seashells cast colorful shadows on the floor. A Michelin-starred chef, who'd traveled halfway around the world just for this day, made food that tasted so good. Even the seven-layer cake, with edible pearls that glowed like drops of water and fresh tropical flowers, was sent from Switzerland. When it got dark, fireworks blew up in the sky, lighting up the night and matching the music from a live band playing romantic classical songs that made everyone's heart feel full. It was a perfect wedding, one that girls dream. 

They spent nearly a month traveling the world for their honeymoon, and when they returned, Mom insisted I move into her husband's mansion. I wanted to say no, to stay in our old apartment but I knew she'd refuse, and I couldn't ignore the fact that I'd save a fortune on rent.

And that's how our lives changed, like the ocean pulling us to a new place. Mom and I moved in, and everything was different. The mansion was amazing, big halls that were quiet, gardens full of flowers, and my bedroom even looked like a princess's room. There were dozens of servants and a butler too, all moving with quiet efficiency. The house was filled with rooms: a grand living room where light streamed through tall windows, an elegant dining room perfect for big gatherings, and a cozy library lined with shelves of books.

Mom moved me from public school to a fancy private one. Uncle Greg got a driver to take me to school, and the money he gave me each month for my allowance was almost as much as I made working long hours at the café for a whole year. Mom's lifestyle transformed too. She started wearing expensive clothes and bags that made her look like a queen to me. She spent her days shopping and having lunch with friends. Uncle Greg bought her things constantly, expensive bags and clothes and even jewelry. 

To make a long story short, we went from rags to riches. I won't lie and say I don't love it. I'm happy our lives got easier, that Mom doesn't have to worry about bills anymore. And then I hold a quiet promise in my heart that I'll never take advantage of Uncle Greg's kindness, never forget where we came from.

There's just one problem though, Theo. He clearly hates Mom and me. He's polite enough to her, but with me? It's a different story. I felt it from the very first day we moved in, a chill that had nothing to do with the mansion's grand halls.

I was wandering through the living room then, wide-eyed with wonder, running my fingers over the smooth wood of a table that must have cost more than our old apartment. That's when he spotted me. 

"Bet this is the first time you've seen a house this big and fancy," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You look so amazed by everything, huh?"

I was admiring the furniture and decor because they looked beautiful and so expensive. But then I looked up at his face, and I saw him glaring at me. That haughty look of disdain that made my chest tighten with hurt. I knew exactly what was in his eyes: insult and ridicule. I'd been right all along. His attempt to make peace with me at the dinner two months ago had been nothing but a show. Not that mine had been real either, if I'm being honest. If he doesn't like me, I like him even less.

"What's wrong with being amazed?" I shot back, my voice shaking a little despite myself. "We didn't have anything like this at home... don't worry, I have no plans to steal from your mansion."

"Good to hear," he said, his voice sharp. "And don't even try. If you did, you'd never succeed. I know every twist and turn of you lowly people's ways."

This asshole is such a jerk! What does he think I am? Some kind of thief?

"Hey, you son of a bitch!" I yelled, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. "We might be poor, but we're not thieves!"

"Glad to hear it," he said, not even flinching. "Better we're clear on that. Let me make this simple. I don't like you, so don't even think about getting close to me." He raised an eyebrow, his eyes cold and hard, his words hitting me like a punch.

"Who said I wanted to get close to you? I don't hang out with people who have such bad attitudes." I snapped. 

"And I'm warning you. I don't want you running around and bumping into me in this house," he said, his voice low and threatening.

Look at this asshole. He's actually warning me, as if I'm some kind of pest he needs to keep away.

"You can count on it," I said, forcing a fake smile that felt like it would crack my face.

"I don't want to see you either. As if you're some kind of heartthrob." I muttered under my breath, my voice thick with anger and hurt. 

"Did you say something?" he snapped. His eyes narrowed, and I could see the anger, the same anger that had been there since the moment we'd met.

"Nothing," I said, forcing my voice to stay steady even as my hands clenched into fists at my sides. "Did you hear me say something?"

"Good, we're on the same page. Yes, we may be stepsiblings because our parents got married, but we're not real siblings. And one more thing, when we're out in public, pretend you don't know me. Unless our parents are there, of course." he said sharply. 

"You can count on it," I replied, my voice coming out harder than I'd intended. "That's exactly what I want too." Then it hit me, all the newness of this mansion, all the hope I'd felt for Mom's happiness, it all faded into a blur of shame and anger.

With that, he turned on his heel and walked away. His heavy steps made noises in the big hallway as I was left alone in the middle of that pretty but cold room, fuming with anger so hot it made my cheeks burn.