Nathan sat quietly in the living room, absorbed in his phone. He was clearly accustomed to his sister's lively and unpredictable energy. After their brief conversation, Joy and Ara returned to their respective tasks, leaving Nathan to lounge on the sofa, remote in hand, flipping through television channels.
Meanwhile, Ara was searching for her beloved pet dog, Amber. Like clockwork, it was time for Amber's daily bath. Ara treated her golden retriever more like a cherished family member than a pet—complete with regular grooming, premium care, and unwavering affection.
"Amber! Amber!" Ara called out softly, her voice echoing through the grand hallways of the mansion.
She wandered from room to room, checking the usual hiding spots. After circling the back garden and scanning the shaded patio where Amber often lounged, Ara still couldn't find her. A soft sigh escaped her lips. Where could she be this time?
Returning inside, Ara moved quietly through the corridors, hoping not to disturb anyone. As she passed the living room, she heard Nathan murmuring to someone but paid little attention, her focus solely on locating her dog.
Suddenly, a familiar playful bark rang out. Ara turned sharply toward the sound and couldn't help but smile. There was Nathan, no longer glued to his phone, laughing as he gently wrestled with Amber on the rug. The dog's tail wagged furiously, her paws batting at him in delight.
No wonder I couldn't find her, Ara thought warmly. Amber, ever the sociable and gentle soul, adored people and never missed an opportunity to make new friends. Ara approached them with light steps.
"There you are, you little escape artist," she said, her voice filled with affection. She crouched down, ready to scoop Amber up for her much-needed bath before her employers could catch even a hint of doggy scent on the furniture.
I cleared my throat with a deliberate cough, hoping to draw Nathan's attention away from the dog. The sound worked instantly. He turned toward me, his gaze sharpening with interest.
"Hi, baby," he said, a slow smile curving his lips as he bit the lower one, eyes lingering on me with unmistakable appreciation.
I lifted a brow, keeping my voice calm and even.
"What baby are you talking about? I'm hardly young enough for you to call me that."
Nathan threw his head back and laughed, the rich sound echoing through the room. I narrowed my eyes at him, irritation sparking hot in my chest. This man had an infuriating talent for getting under my skin.
"You smell like a baby, that's why," he teased, voice dropping into something warmer, more playful. "Come here. Let me smell you properly."
He closed the distance between us in two smooth strides, leaning in so close that his breath brushed my cheek. I instinctively turned my face away and stepped back, but the wall met me sooner than expected. Trapped, I could only tilt my head further as he hovered near, deliberately inhaling near my neck and hair. My pulse hammered wildly.
"What the heck—stay away from me!" I growled, my voice sharper than I intended.
My eyes darted left and right, scanning the empty hallway for anyone who might interrupt. No one. Heat flooded my face, a deep blush I could feel burning across my cheeks and down my neck.
My blood pressure felt sky-high, my skin tingling with a confusing mix of nerves and something dangerously warmer. Was he joking? Or was there truth hidden beneath the teasing?
Before I could push him away, his fingers gently squeezed my flushed cheek, the touch surprisingly tender.
"You're blushing," he murmured, clearly pleased. "I'm just kidding… mostly." His voice softened, eyes locking onto mine. "But I do want you. I like your innocence. It drives me crazy."
He winked, the gesture both charming and disarming, then pulled back as if nothing had happened.
I stood there, stunned, my lips parted in a silent gasp. His words echoed in my head, twisting into knots of confusion. He wants me. He likes my innocence. Was that real, or just another layer of his relentless teasing? The contradiction left me breathless.
Nathan casually dropped back onto the sofa, scrolling through his phone as though he hadn't just turned my world upside down. A moment later, Amber bounded over and jumped excitedly in front of me, tail wagging. I bit my lower lip, still dazed, my heart racing from the lingering effect of his closeness. Every time he approached me like that, he sent my pulse into chaos.
Shaking off the haze, I called softly to Amber. She needed a bath—there was no way I was letting her stay covered in the scent of playing with my bosses all afternoon. I turned to leave without another word, but his voice stopped me.
"Wait."
His tone was casual, eyes still fixed on his phone screen. I paused, glancing back over my shoulder.
"What?"
"Why do both of you smell the same as your pet dog?" Nathan asked, his eyes still glued to his phone, voice laced with casual amusement.
I stiffened, irritation flaring instantly.
"What do you mean? I smell like my dog?"
"No, no—" He finally looked up, waving his hands in defense, a grin tugging at his lips. "I meant why do both of you smell so nice?"
"Oh, really?" I replied with a smirk, folding my arms across my chest. "You're pretending again, but we both know the truth—you just can't stop teasing me."
The moment the words left my mouth, Nathan stood up abruptly. The playful glint in his eyes sharpened into something more intense. I quickly scooped Amber into my arms, holding her warm, wriggling body tightly against my chest like a shield.
He approached slowly, his expression serious, gaze locked on mine as he bit his lower lip. My stomach tightened with nervous anticipation. I knew that look—he was about to do something reckless again.
"Amber, hold on tight," I whispered urgently. "We need to run."
I spun on my heel and bolted down the hallway, Amber's ears flapping as I clutched her close. My heart pounded wildly with a mix of fear and exhilaration. Behind me, I heard Nathan let out a low chuckle and shake his head, watching me flee like a man thoroughly entertained by the chase.
One week later. The first day of classes had finally arrived. The entire household buzzed with early-morning energy as everyone prepared for the new school year.
In the garage, Mr. Arthur stood patiently beside the sleek black SUV, engine already idling softly. Nathan and Crissy had come down early for breakfast. As they ate, Crissy suddenly waved Ara and Joy over with a sharp gesture.
"Hey, you two," she said, pointing directly at us. "Just so we're clear—when we're at school, we don't know each other. Pretend we're complete strangers."
"Yes, Ma'am. We understand," Joy and I replied almost in unison, keeping our tones respectful.
"Good," Crissy said with a satisfied nod.
Fifteen minutes later, breakfast was finished and everyone was ready to leave. But Crissy hesitated by the garage entrance, keys dangling from her fingers.
"Nate, come with me," she called, jingling the keys to the black Porsche. "Let's ride together."
Nathan shook his head, offering her an apologetic smile.
"Sorry, dear sister. I'd rather go with them today."
Crissy's expression hardened.
"You're unbelievable. You'd rather be with the staff than your own sister?" she said bluntly, her voice sharp with irritation.
Without waiting for another word, she turned on her heel, slid into the Porsche, and revved the engine. The powerful car shot out of the garage with a roar, tires screeching slightly as she sped down the driveway.
I turned to my father, who was watching the scene with quiet amusement.
"Father, we're leaving a bit early. Joy and I want to stop by the library to read before classes start."
"All right," he replied, nodding approvingly. "Get in the car. Be safe."
We moved toward the car, but Nathan reached the back door first and slid inside with casual confidence. Joy and I exchanged a quick glance. Mr. Arthur's SUV was only a four-seater, which meant someone would have to sit beside Nathan.
"You'll sit next to me here," Nathan said smoothly, patting the leather seat beside him. "Joy can take the front."
"Huh?" The word slipped out before I could stop it.
My heart gave a sudden, traitorous leap of excitement. I quickly schooled my expression, refusing to let my father—or Nathan—see how the idea affected me. Stay calm, Ara. Don't let him get to you.
"Dear, get in," my father called from the driver's seat, his voice pulling me out of my momentary daze.
I realized I was still standing frozen outside the car like an idiot. Heat crept up my neck as I climbed in beside Nathan. The moment I settled into the soft leather seat, he turned toward me with that signature foolish grin—the one that always spelled trouble. Before I could brace myself, his fingers poked my side, right in the most ticklish spot.
"Ouch!" I yelped, nearly jumping out of my seat. The sharp squeak echoed louder than I intended in the confined space.
My father's eyes flicked to the rearview mirror.
"What happened, dear? Are you alright?"
I bit my lower lip hard, shooting Nathan a murderous glare. He had the audacity to cover his mouth with one hand, barely suppressing a laugh, his shoulders shaking with silent amusement.
"A-Ahh… Nothing, Dad," I lied quickly, forcing a steady voice. "I just dropped my stuff. It's fine."
From the front seat, Joy let out a very deliberate "Ahem… ahem," her fake cough barely hiding her knowing smirk. She had clearly figured out exactly what Nathan had done.
The rest of the ride passed in tense silence—at least on my part. Every small shift of Nathan's leg brushing against mine sent unwelcome sparks racing across my skin. I kept my gaze fixed firmly out the window, pretending to watch the passing scenery while my pulse refused to settle.
When we finally reached the school grounds, I slipped out of the car as quietly as possible. I didn't spare Nathan even a single glance, still irritated by his childish prank. Joy fell into step beside me, and together we headed straight for the library.
Classes wouldn't start for another hour, so we settled at a quiet corner table, surrounded by the comforting scent of old books and polished wood, determined to get some reading done before the chaos of the first day truly began.
After reading for a while, Ara and Joy leaned back in their chairs and began chatting quietly, their voices barely above a whisper. The library was still peacefully empty, the morning light filtering through tall windows and casting soft golden patterns across the wooden tables. But the calm shattered the moment a group of students pushed through the heavy doors.
My eyes widened as I recognized Crissy leading the pack, flanked by three of her wealthy classmates. Their designer bags, perfectly styled hair, and loud confidence announced their status before they even spoke. Though they wore expensive clothes, their crude behavior made them seem anything but refined.
Joy and I exchanged a quick glance and immediately fell silent. We reopened our books and lowered our heads, determined to ignore them. Unfortunately, the group chose the table right beside ours, their chairs scraping noisily against the floor.
"Oops… sorry!" one of the girls exclaimed, her tone anything but apologetic.
"Rag! Rag!" another shouted, loud enough to earn a disapproving glare from the librarian across the room.
I turned instinctively. A large puddle of orange juice was spreading across their table, dripping onto the floor in sticky rivulets.
"Fool," Crissy said flatly, her voice dripping with disdain. "You know this is a library. Stop yelling about rags."
Then her gaze shifted, landing directly on me. A malicious little smile curved her lips.
"Oh wait… I see a rag right here."
She pointed straight at me and waved her hand.
"Hey, you. Come here."
I approached without hesitation, confused but unwilling to cause a scene. What could she possibly want? I wondered. I glanced down at my uniform, checking my skirt and blouse. Everything was clean.
"Do you need something?" I asked politely, still searching for whatever she might be pointing at.
Without a word, Crissy grabbed the hem of my skirt with both hands and began wiping the spilled orange juice off their table. The cold, sticky liquid soaked through the fabric instantly, pressing against my thighs.
"Aww!" I cried out sharply, the sound echoing through the quiet library. I jerked back in shock, but she held on for another second, finishing her task with deliberate slowness.
"Problem solved," Crissy announced with a triumphant laugh, finally releasing my skirt. She rolled her eyes at me as if I were beneath her notice. "Thanks for the rag."
Her friends burst into loud, mocking laughter, covering their mouths dramatically while pointing at the wet stain now blooming across my skirt. My entire body stiffened, heat flooding my face as humiliation crashed over me like a wave.
For the first time in my life, I felt truly small—exposed and degraded in front of strangers. A burning sting gathered behind my eyes, tears threatening to spill. I blinked rapidly, forcing them back, refusing to let them see me cry.
While they continued laughing and congratulating themselves on their "clever" solution, I stood frozen, the sticky orange juice seeping coldly down my leg. The cheerful chatter that had filled the library moments ago now felt suffocatingly distant.
"You're crazy, Crissy. Your name really suits you," one of her friends sneered, laughing.
Crissy tossed her hair over her shoulder with a smug smile.
"Come on, girls. Let's go hang out at the canteen. Maybe I'll find another skirt to wipe if I get bored." She raised a perfectly arched eyebrow and shot me one last condescending look before turning on her heel.
Her three friends trailed after her like obedient shadows, their laughter echoing through the library until the heavy doors swung shut behind them.
The moment they disappeared, the dam broke. A choked sob escaped my throat as Joy gently touched my shoulder. We both knew we were powerless against them—wealthy, influential, and cruel. Complaining would only make things worse.
"Come on," Joy whispered. "Let's get you cleaned up."
We slipped out of the library and hurried to the nearest bathroom. I stood at the sink while Joy helped me rinse the sticky orange juice from my skirt.
The cold water soaked through the fabric, turning the patch into a large, damp stain that clung uncomfortably to my thighs. I stared at my reflection—red-rimmed eyes, flushed cheeks—and felt a sharp pang in my chest.
What did I ever do to her? I wondered bitterly. Why does she hate us so much?
Despite the wet clothes and the lingering humiliation, I refused to let it ruin my day. I endured the clammy discomfort through every class, focusing only on moving forward.
When Joy and I finally entered the classroom, we chose seats near the back and sat quietly. Even with my damp skirt, I kept my posture straight and my expression neutral. I pushed everything else from my mind and concentrated fully on the teacher's voice.
"I noticed some of you weren't paying full attention earlier," our teacher said, scanning the room with a knowing smile, "but I'll let it slide since it's the first day.
Now, let's wake things up. I have a little IQ test for you. Whoever answers correctly gets to go home early and will receive a big boost on their first grade."
He tapped a wooden stick against his palm as he paced slowly in front of the class.
"Here's the question: What is in the middle of the sea?"
His eyes swept across the room, searching for volunteers. After a few seconds of silence, he pointed the stick toward the front.
"Hmm… Ms. Crissy Madrid, please answer."
Crissy stood up with exaggerated confidence, lifting her chin high.
"Of course," she said, her voice loud and self-assured. "The answer is fish."
Her friends immediately burst into applause, clapping and cheering as if she had solved a great mystery. The rest of the class stared in stunned silence.
The teacher's eyebrows shot up. He paused, clearly surprised, and the corner of his mouth twitched as if he was fighting back a reaction.
The classroom fell into a tense hush as Mr. Reyes' booming voice echoed off the walls. "It's a big wrong!"
He paced slowly in front of the rows of desks, his polished shoes clicking against the tiled floor, the wooden pointer tapping rhythmically against his palm like a metronome.
The late afternoon sunlight slanted through the high windows, casting long shadows across the students' faces. Most of them sat frozen, eyes darting nervously between their papers and the teacher.
"Anyone care to give the correct answer?" he asked, his deep voice carrying both challenge and expectation.
I raised my hand steadily. Mr. Reyes turned sharply, his gaze locking onto me. With a decisive flick of the pointer, he singled me out.
"Yes, Ms. Sandoval. Let's hear it."
I rose smoothly, meeting his eyes with quiet confidence. "The answer is E, sir," I said clearly. "SEA has three letters, and E is in the middle."
A moment of silence hung in the air before Mr. Reyes broke into a broad smile. He clapped his hands together once, the sound sharp and approving.
"Brilliant! Absolutely correct, Ms. Sandoval." He nodded several times, his expression one of genuine satisfaction.
"Well done."
From childhood, Ara Sandoval had possessed a sharp, intuitive mind that set her apart. She carried that gift into adulthood, balancing demanding part-time work with her studies in a way that earned quiet admiration from the Madrid family, who had long taken a special interest in her diligence and potential.
Mr. Reyes turned back toward the board, his shoulders relaxing.
"That's enough for today. You're all free to go, and Ms. Sandoval, you've earned yourself extra points for that quick thinking."
A low, frustrated mutter broke the moment.
"What the fucking answer…" Crissy Madrid groaned audibly, slumping back in her chair with crossed arms.
Mr. Reyes' expression hardened instantly.
"Please sit down properly, Ms. Madrid. Your time to answer has passed. I made it clear from the start—this was an IQ-style question designed to test observation, not rote knowledge."
Crissy frowned deeply, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and lingering disbelief. She sank lower into her seat, unable to mask her irritation at being outshone.
I leaned toward my friend Joy, who sat two rows behind me, and whispered, "I'll wait for you at the library. It's still early—I want to get some reading done."
Joy nodded with a small smile. Even with a full schedule, I had always made time for books. In the quiet aisles of the library, surrounded by the scent of aged paper and ink, the world felt clearer, and my thoughts sharper.