My mother traded her life for my golden ticket into high society. Before she took her last breath, she forced my biological father—a man worth billions—to acknowledge my existence. The second I stepped into the Sterling estate, my half-sister swirled her red wine, her gaze grazing over me like I was a speck of dust. "I don't care where you came from. Just keep your head down." My half-brother crushed his cigar into an ashtray, his voice low and dangerous. "Once you walk through that door, you play by the Sterling rules. Watch yourself." I understood. They hated me. So, I tried my best to be invisible. Until the day the school’s queen bee poured a bottle of ink into my water bottle and tried to force it down my throat. My sister stepped in and slapped her across the face. My brother cornered the bully and ordered her to drink every drop of that ink. That’s when I learned the truth. The Sterling rule isn't about silence. It’s about protecting your own. Chapter 1 The day after my mom jumped from our apartment building, a middle-aged man in a luxury sedan found me. He said I was a daughter of the Sterling family, and he was there to take me "home." I studied his face, looking for any resemblance. "Are you my father?" The man let out a scoff. It was faint, barely audible, but I caught it. "No, Miss Riley. My name is Davis. You can call me Driver Davis." "I’m just Mr. Sterling’s driver and assistant. If you need the boss, I can pass a message." He sounded respectful, but his eyes told a different story. He looked at me like I was roadkill he had to scrape off his bumper. I didn't care. I was just sad I never got to see the man my mother loved enough to die for. The night before she jumped, she held me and cried for hours. She swore she wasn't a mistress. She was his first love. We were the ones who got left behind. He chose his empire over us, marrying a woman from a powerful dynasty instead. "Riley," she had asked me, "She’s been dead for three years. Why won't he marry me now?" I didn't have an answer. She touched my face, looking through me at someone else. "Be good, Riley. Be obedient. Work hard. Make him proud. Make him see you." Those were her last words to me. Did she love me? Maybe. Maybe not enough. Doesn't matter now. From here on out, I have to figure out how to be happy on my own. "I'm fine," I told Davis. "Let's go." I took one last look at the run-down shack I’d lived in for sixteen years, then climbed into the Maybach without turning back. We lived in the middle of nowhere. Davis spent the drive muttering to himself, complaining about the distance, basically calling me a burden. "Don't know what the Boss is thinking... could've just paid her off... why bring her home?" I ignored him. I glued my face to the window, watching the desolate countryside morph into the glittering skyline of the city. It was beautiful. The car pulled up to a massive estate. Davis dumped my luggage on the driveway. "Alright, you're on your own from here. I've got places to be." He sped off before I could blink. I dragged my suitcase toward the open front doors. Someone was waiting. Chapter 2 The moment I stepped onto the marble floor, I saw them. A young man and woman descending the spiral staircase like royalty. They were perfect. Works of art. I recognized them from the tabloids. Aria Sterling, the art prodigy whose paintings hung in Parisian galleries at age eleven. Asher Sterling, the genius who spoke seven languages and collected academic trophies like Pokémon cards. Compared to them, I was a dirt-poor country bumpkin. "Hi, Sister. Hi, Brother. I'm Riley Stone." I greeted them, trying to be polite. They paused, scanning me from head to toe. Aria swirled her wine glass. "I don't care where you came from. Just keep your head down." Asher put out his cigar. "Once you walk through that door, you play by our rules. Watch yourself." I lowered my head, acting submissive. "Okay. I understand." I knew they wouldn't like me. So, I spent a week learning their schedules to avoid them. Aria drank wine every night and hated mornings. Asher had to bang on her door five times just to get her up for school. The maids couldn't do it. Even our father couldn't—she hung up on him when he tried to set her up on dates. I was terrified of annoying her. Especially after yesterday. Davis gave me a dress identical to one Aria had. I didn't know. When she saw me, she frowned, went back to her room, changed, and then threw the dress in Davis's face. "Make me see that rag again, I dare you." Asher was slightly more stable. Slightly. Today, Davis said he couldn't drive me to school because he had to pick up Dad from the airport. He asked Asher to drop me off. Asher slammed his fork down at breakfast and stormed out. I froze, a noodle halfway to my mouth in the kitchen. Silence. Then, Aria’s voice floated down the hall. "You have three minutes to get in the car. Or he leaves you." I wasn't full, but I couldn't be late on my first day. I ran out, wiping my mouth. But when I got to the sleek sports car, I panicked. If I opened the back door, Aria would have to scoot over. If I sat shotgun, Asher would probably eject me. I thought about it logically. "Brother," I said seriously. "Can you pop the trunk? I'll sit in there." Chapter 3 "Pfft." Aria laughed. It was a clean, melodic sound. My heart skipped a beat. I peeked at her, but she was already looking at her phone, face blank. I scratched my head. "So... where should I sit?" Asher smashed the car horn. "Just get in the damn car! Sit wherever!" "Oh..." Suddenly, the back door opened. Aria scooted over. I took the hint and scrambled in. "Thanks, Sister." She ignored me. I started fighting with the seatbelt. First time in a car this fancy. How does this buckle work? Before I could figure it out, Asher floored it. The G-force slammed my head against the seat. Thud. Aria sighed. She reached over, grabbed the buckle, and clicked it into place for me. "You are so high maintenance." "Sorry," I whispered. Asher looked in the rearview mirror. "Is she strapped in? Don't let her dent my leather." "Yeah," Aria said, putting her headphones back on. I barely breathed the whole ride. When we got near the school—St. Jude’s Prep—I asked Asher to drop me off a block away. I didn't want to ruin their reputation. They didn't argue. Asher dropped me off and sped away like he was escaping a crime scene. Finally. I could breathe. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the boiled egg I swiped from the kitchen. Peeled it. Chomp. Runny yolk. Delicious. Chapter 4 The floor of this school was literally made of imported Italian marble. I spun around like a tourist, taking it all in. When I got to class, the teacher asked for an intro. "My name is Riley Stone." "Stone? Are you related to Aria and Asher Sterling?" a kid asked. I looked at them. Aria was checking her makeup in a compact. Asher was staring out the window. Neither acknowledged me. "No," I said. "Just a coincidence." The teacher pointed to a desk. Right next to Asher. Great. I walked over, bracing for him to explode. I sat down and pulled out my books. Then, disaster struck. This wasn't just a rich kid school; it was a genius rich kid school. The teacher started lecturing in French. Back in my village, I was the English champ. Here? I was illiterate. The whole class spoke fluent French. I was lost. I realized then that without the Sterling name, I wouldn't even be fit to sweep the floors here. Suddenly, something landed on my desk. A pair of high-tech glasses. "Spare trash. You can have it," Asher muttered without looking at me. I put them on. Subtitles. Real-time translation appeared on the lenses. I scribbled a note: Thanks, Brother. I slid it to him. Asher glanced at it, then nudged it back with his elbow like it was contaminated. Chapter 5 Recess. Everyone left. I stayed behind to study French on my phone. A girl walked up and tapped my desk. "Hi, I'm Jessica Vance. Let's be friends." She was the "Campus Queen." Personally, I thought Aria was prettier. From that day on, Jessica tried to hang out with me. But I suspect Asher didn't want me making friends. Every time Jessica came over, Asher would slam a French textbook in front of me. "Finish these two pages. Then you can leave." I couldn't say no. He had agreed to tutor me. Actually, I had asked Aria for a tutor. She had just yelled, "Asher! Get in here!" Asher appeared. "What?" "Teach her French." I hugged Aria’s arm. "Sister, you're the best! A sister is a treasure!" Aria’s ears turned pink. She pushed me away. "Hurry up! Teach her!" Asher looked like he wanted to die. "Brother," I pleaded. "Do your daily good deed? Please?" He gritted his teeth and agreed. I wasn't a natural. I frustrated him daily. He’d roll the book into a tube, ready to smack me, then sigh and correct my pronunciation word by word. "Brother, you're the best teacher ever!" I beamed. Asher kept his poker face. "I've never begged for anything in my life. The only thing I beg of you is this: Don't tell anyone I taught you this terrible French. It’s embarrassing."
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