Chapter 2

The meeting ended without anything unusual happening. The interns chatted among themselves, relieved that the CEO’s mother had been surprisingly warm and welcoming. Bloom felt the same. Nothing about the morning seemed out of place.

Bloom was introduced to her new role in the auditing department. Samuel was placed in finance, exactly in line with both of their academic backgrounds. It felt perfect, almost too perfect, but Bloom was too excited to question it. She had a job she loved, a boyfriend she adored, and a future that finally felt stable. Two months passed in a blur.

Bloom thrived in her department. She loved the precision of auditing, the quiet satisfaction of solving problems, the sense of belonging she had never felt before. Her supervisors praised her work. Her internship ended, and she was offered a full-time position. She cried when she signed the contract, overwhelmed with gratitude.

Her relationship with Samuel grew just as smoothly. He was attentive, sweet, and always ready to make her laugh. Bloom felt lucky. She felt chosen. She felt safe. One weekend, she took Samuel to meet her grandmother, Elena. The old woman lived in a small cottage on the outskirts of the city, surrounded by wildflowers and herbs. Elena welcomed Samuel with a warm smile, though her eyes lingered on him longer than usual, as if searching for something beneath his pleasant exterior. Bloom did not notice the tension. She was simply happy.

What she did not know was that every move she made, every person she met, was being reported to the Queen.

A week after Samuel’s visit, Elena fell sick. The decline was sudden and brutal. Bloom took a week off work to care for her, refusing to leave her side. She cooked for her, cleaned for her, and slept in a chair by her bed. But nothing helped. Elena grew weaker each day, her breaths shallow and strained. One evening, when the sun dipped low and the room filled with golden light, Elena called Bloom to her bedside.

“Come closer, child.”

Bloom leaned in, tears already burning her eyes. Elena removed the ring from her hands and gave it to Bloom. A ruby the color of fresh blood sat in the center, glowing faintly as if alive. The metal was old, etched with symbols Bloom did not recognize.

“This is yours,” Elena whispered. “Our family’s heirloom. It has waited for you.”

Bloom stared at it, confused. “Grandma, what are you talking about? You need to rest.”

Elena shook her head. Her hand trembled as she slid the ring onto Bloom’s finger. It fit perfectly, as if it had been made for her.

“Never take it off,” Elena said. “If you ever lose it, call for it with your blood. It will come find you.”

Bloom froze. “Grandma, what does that mean? What is happening?”

Elena’s eyes softened with sorrow. “I am sorry, my Bloom. I wanted more time.”

Bloom’s breath hitched. “Please, do not say that. You are going to be fine. You have to be fine.”

But Elena only smiled, a sad, knowing smile.

Moments later, her chest rose one final time. Then it fell.

Bloom’s world shattered. She clung to her grandmother’s still hand, sobbing until her throat burned. She called Samuel, barely able to speak through her tears. He came immediately, holding her as she cried, whispering that he was there, that she was not alone.

But nothing eased the pain. While Bloom mourned, the city’s tallest tower hummed with a different kind of tension.

In her private office, the Queen made a call.

“Henry,” she said, her voice smooth and cold. “It seems the time has come to fullfil your oath?”

On the other end of the line, Henry cursed under his breath. His wife, Samantha, glared at him from across the room, her expression twisted with resentment. Samantha hated Bloom. She hated the reminder of the past, the reminder of the child they abandoned. But the Queen’s command was absolute. They had to bring the daughter of the royal family back. They had left Bloom with Henry’s mother-in-law the night she was born, refusing to keep her alive unless it ensured their own son would be born healthy. They never expected to see her again. They never wanted to.

But the oath bound them.

And Bloom, still grieving, still unaware of the truth, was brought to a mansion she never knew existed. A place of marble floors, towering chandeliers, and servants who bowed when she entered. She had never imagined places like this existed outside of fairy tales. She was excited to meet her parents.  Bloom had imagined something warm, something welcoming, something that felt like home. Instead, she was led through narrow corridors and down a steep staircase into the basement.

Her room was small and dim, with a single narrow bed and a wooden dresser that looked older than the building itself. The air smelled faintly of damp stone. This was the servants’ quarter. The place where staff slept. Not family. Bloom thought about her tiny apartment and her grandmother's home, those places has given her much comfort than this room.  Bloom tried to smile at the maid who showed her the room, but the woman avoided her eyes and left quickly, as if afraid to linger.

Bloom sat on the edge of the bed, her heart sinking. She had imagined meeting her parents, imagined being embraced, imagined hearing the words she had longed for her entire life. Instead, she was tucked away underground like an inconvenience. Morning came far too quickly. A servant knocked on her door and informed her that breakfast was being served. Bloom followed her through the castle, her steps echoing in the long hallways. She tried to steady her breathing, tried to convince herself that maybe things would be better once she met them.

She entered the dining hall with a hopeful smile. It faded instantly. Her so-called family sat around a long table, staring at her with eyes that held no warmth. Her father, Henry, looked her over as if she were a stain on the carpet. His wife, Samantha, did not bother to hide her disgust. Bloom’s gaze shifted to the two young adults seated beside them. Her stepsiblings. Victor and Jenna. Victor looked bored, as if her presence was nothing more than an inconvenience. Jenna, however, stared at Bloom with open hostility. Her eyes flicked over Bloom’s green eyes, her ginger hair, her soft features, and her expression tightened with jealousy.

Jenna had grown up in luxury. She had spent years pursuing modeling, sculpting herself through countless cosmetic procedures to achieve the beauty she believed she deserved. Yet Bloom, who had grown up with nothing, possessed a natural beauty that made Jenna’s carefully crafted appearance feel artificial. Henry finally spoke.

“You are not part of this family,” he said, his voice cold and sharp. “Do not expect anything from us.”

Bloom felt the words like a slap. She had so many questions, so many hopes, and all of them shattered in an instant. Her throat tightened. She pushed back her chair and stood.

“I should go,” she whispered.

She told them she was heading to the company which was now 1.5 hours away from this place and she hated being here with this strange family.