Meet the other women.

CHAPTER nine meet the other women 

Morning sun streamed through the tall windows of the dining hall, casting golden patterns across the polished marble floor. I stood in the doorway for a moment, my heart pounding. The other selected women were already seated around a long, ornate table, their voices filling the air with laughter. I felt like an intruder. I took a breath and reminded myself I had every right to be here. I was chosen just like them.

I walked in, my footsteps quiet on the marble, and took a seat at the far end of the table, away from the others. I folded my hands in my lap and kept my eyes down, trying to make myself small. But I felt their eyes on me, their judgment pressing down like a physical weight.

Anya sat at the head of the table, her posture perfect, her smile sharp. She looked at me with a coldness that made my blood run cold.

"Well, well, well," she said, leaning back and crossing her arms. "Look who finally decided to join us. The little nobody who thinks she belongs among her betters. How generous of you to grace us with your presence."

Heat rose to my cheeks. I opened my mouth to respond, but another voice cut in first. Lucia sat to Anya's right, dark-haired and quiet, watching me with an intensity that made me uneasy, like she was studying me.

"Leave her alone, Anya," Lucia said, calm and measured. "She has as much right to be here as any of us. The Volkovs chose her, just like they chose us. If you have a problem with that, take it up with them."

Anya rolled her eyes and waved a hand dismissively. "Please, Lucia. Do not pretend you care about fairness. We all know why we are here. We all know she is the weakest link, the one who will drag the rest of us down."

Anger rose in my chest. I clenched my fists under the table. "I am not weak," I said, louder than I meant to. "I may not come from a rich family. I may not have connections or power. But I have survived things that would have broken a lesser person, and I am still standing."

Anya laughed, cold and humorless. "Survived things," she repeated. "What could a nobody like you possibly have survived? A broken nail? Please. Do not insult us with your sob story."

I opened my mouth to tell her about Leo, about Mira, about my father's betrayal. Before I could speak, someone else cut in. Valentina sat across from me, wide-eyed, her hands trembling in her lap.

"Do not listen to her," Valentina said, soft and pleading. "Anya is just jealous because you were given the most important position. She wanted to be the heir's caretaker. Now that you have it, she will do everything she can to destroy you."

Anya's head snapped toward her. "Shut your mouth, Valentina," she hissed. "You do not know what you are talking about. You are just a desperate little girl who is too naive to understand how the world works."

Valentina flinched and looked down at the table. Something in me softened toward her. She was not a threat. She was just scared, in over her head, like me.

The fourth woman, Isabella, had stayed silent through all of it, watching with a cool detachment that unsettled me more than Anya's cruelty. Sharp-featured, careful, the kind of person who missed nothing.

"You are all being very dramatic," Isabella said, smooth as honey laced with something bitter underneath. "We are not enemies here. We are competitors, yes, but we have also been given an opportunity. We should be working together, not tearing each other apart."

Anya snorted. "Spare us the speech, Isabella. You are just as ruthless as the rest of us. You are just better at hiding it."

Isabella smiled, a smile that did not reach her eyes. "Perhaps. But at least I know how to play the game. At least I know how to survive."

The tension in the room was thick. I looked around at the women who would be my rivals for however long I lasted here, and understood, clearly, for the first time, that this was not just a selection. It was a battlefield.

Anya turned to me again, her eyes glittering. "You may have been given the heir's room, but that does not mean you have won anything. There are still tests to pass, obstacles to overcome. And I will do everything in my power to make sure you fail."

I met her gaze and did not look away. "I am not afraid of you," I said. "I have faced worse than you and survived. I will survive you too."

She studied me for a long moment, then smiled, slow and dangerous. "We will see about that."

The meal continued in tense silence, the only sound the clink of cutlery against porcelain. I pushed my food around my plate, my appetite gone.

When the meal ended, Mrs. Volkov entered the room. We all rose, heads bowed.

"Ladies," she said, "I hope you have enjoyed your breakfast. I have an announcement. The first selection test will take place tomorrow. It will test your psychological strength and your ability to handle pressure. Only those who pass will continue. Those who fail will be sent home immediately."

My stomach dropped. A test, tomorrow, and I had no idea what to expect.

Mrs. Volkov looked at each of us in turn, then offered a thin smile that did not reach her eyes. "Good luck to all of you. You are going to need it."

She turned and walked out, her heels clicking against the marble. The moment she was gone, Anya smirked.

"Good luck, little nobody," she said, sweet and poisonous. "You are going to need it more than anyone."

I said nothing. I turned and walked out of the room, my head held high, telling myself I would survive this, that I would pass the test, that I would prove them all wrong.

Deep down, though, I was terrified.