THE BILLIONAIRE'S LADY REVENGER

Aria's POV

The Donovan mansion stands on the hill like a crown that nobody wants to mess with. With the sun hitting them just right, those white walls look stunning; marble columns tower above, giving off an air of wealth and power. Everyone freezes and watches. They whisper about the legacy built here.

To me, it feels like a prison.

Stepping inside through those huge double doors, I feel the cold marble floor cut through my light shoes, wrapping around me like ice. That chandelier up there is super bright, with its crystal pieces throwing light everywhere. Everything around here aims to wow you. But I know better.

The place is super quiet, with the maids gliding around like ghosts, dusting furniture that's already clean and fixing flowers that will just droop by tomorrow. None of them look at me. They never do. I grip my leather notebook closer, holding it against my chest while I walk down the long hallway of portraits.

My mom's portrait watches over me, locked in a shiny frame for eternity. She has this lovely smile that feels timeless.

I return the smile, but that always hurts.

I reach the study, my heartbeat beating loudly in my ears. Father should be here. If I can just get him to listen once-

He's sitting on the couch, flipping through those papers like they're his top priority. The room has his cologne scent in the air. It used to make me feel better when I was a kid. Now, it suffocates.

I clear my throat. "Good morning, Father." My voice is carefully measured.

He glances up, his expression is already impatient. "Hmm. Morning." A flick of his wrist and I know that's dismissal. "I'm busy, Aria."

I hesitate, my fingers pressing into the cover of my notebook. My idea is right here, waiting to be heard. But the words die before I can speak them.

I nod and turn away.

Breakfast is almost ready. If I don't show up, that would only mean I won't eat today.

The dining room is a masterpiece of wealth. A mahogany table long enough to seat twenty, yet only four of us sit here. The distance between me and them is more than just space's a chasm built over years of cruelty.

Viviene Donovan, my half-sister, is exactly where she belongs next to Father, soaking in his attention. Her pearl-tone hair cascades down her back, her tailored blazer screaming authority. She doesn't even have to try. She belongs here while I don't.

I smooth my plain blue dress, my fingers gripping the fabric.

"You're up early," Vivienne says, her smile sweet but empty. "How unusual. Did you finally decide to contribute something meaningful to the family?"

The words slide under my skin like needles. I force myself to meet her gaze. "I've always tried."

Lies. We both know that trying doesn't matter when they've already decided you're useless.

Rachel, my stepmother, laughs softly. "Help out?" She leans her teacup, observing the liquid spin around. "Darling, you inherited your mother's charm, but charms don't keep a business alive." She sips her tea slowly, pausing intentionally probably to find the suitable words which will help in escalating my already miserable state. "Perhaps it's time to find something more... suitable."

I go still.

"She's done so well," Father interjects, looking at Viviene with something I'll never receive. "Her leadership has taken Donovan Emporium to new heights. She's a true visionary."

Viviene preens under the praise. She doesn't even try to hide her smug glance.

I push my food around my plate, my appetite long gone.

I don't belong here. I never did.

After breakfast, I force myself to try again. At least prove to them all that I can be useful. I have brains, and I use them, too.

I find Father in the sitting room. My fingers tighten around my notebook.

He doesn't look up.

"Father, may I have a moment?"

A sigh. "What is it, Aria?"

I swallow. Hold out my notebook like an offering. "I've been working on a business idea. A boutique concept. It could appeal to a younger, modern demographic. It might complement the Donovan brand-"

"Leave business matters to Viviene." He barely spares me a glance. "She has the experience and the capability. You should focus on other things."

A clean cut. A sharp dismissal. This is what I always get.

I open my mouth, but then Rachel appears.

She always does, just in time to shove me back into place.

"Your father's right, dear." She smiles. "Perhaps it's time to think about finding a suitable husband. That's where your true potential lies."

I clutch my notebook, fingers digging into the leather.

I don't say a word.

I just turn and leave.

My room is small. The only part of the house that feels like mine.

I sink onto my bed, hands trembling.

On my nightstand is a framed photograph.

Me and my mother. Before everything fell apart.

"I miss you, Mom," I whisper.

I blink rapidly.

I won't cry.

**********

Viviene's party arrived faster than I expected. Just like always, she is being celebrated for every little thing. I don't know the title of this occasion. No one tells me anything. Not even the maids. They know better than to try talking to me. They would probably starve for a week or lose their jobs. Things just happen in the house and I find myself in the middle of it.

The house is alive with guests, laughter, and champagne glasses clinking. I blend into the background like a shadow among the glittering lights.

They've given me a role tonight.

Serving drinks.

A humiliation, wrapped in crystal glasses and fake smiles.

I walk carefully, balancing the tray, ignoring the whispers-

"Why does Martins keep her around?"

"She's dead weight. A charity case."

I pretend I don't hear.

Rachael finds me. "Oh, Aria, darling," she purrs, her voice carrying amusement. "That dress is... charming. Is that vintage? Did you find it in an antique store?"

Poisonous, elegant laughter from her friends follows. My cheeks burn.

I want to say something. I want to throw the tray, shatter the glasses, and scream that I am not nothing. But I know better.

Instead, I swallow.

The bile in my throat becomes thick.

I hold my head high.

And I keep moving.

Because in this house, dignity is a battle.

And tonight, I refuse to lose.

I hear someone call my name. But I don't look back. I just move, tears forming in my eyes.