Chapter 5
“Whoa, for real?” Narissa’s eyes popped wide at Cressida’s bold words, but then she yawned, all chill and carefree. “Fine, do your worst, sis. I’m zonked, so… whatever.”
Before Cressida could flip out, Narissa zipped into her room, slamming the door with a loud thud. She flipped the lock with a sly grin.
Through the door, she could hear Cressida muttering some choice words.
Narissa leaned back, arms crossed, smirking. ‘My big sis is way too comfy playing queen bee, thinking she can just waltz in and start poking around in my business.
‘Good luck, princess. Do you really think you could crack something that locked down?‘
Her info was sealed tighter than a drum–top–secret stuff, no joke. Even Bastien, who was a total pro at sniffing out leads, could barely catch a whiff of her trail.
Cressida? Total amateur hour.
Narissa’s grin widened as she heard Cressida pound the door, give it a hard kick, and storm off in a huff.
With a quick laugh, Narissa hit the sack.
*****
Come morning, Narissa shuffled downstairs, yawning like she’d run a marathon.
Her messy hair and laid–back vibe only made her more charming, rocking that cute, girl–next–door look.
Amanda’s face lit up when she saw her. “There’s my girl! All natural and glowy. Not like Cressida, always caked in makeup.
‘I swear, I can’t even remember what her real face looks like anymore!‘
She sighed, recalling how Cressida once called her “so basic” for mentioning it.
“Narissa, get over here! I made you breakfast–special just for you. Dad and your sister don’t get this VIP deal.” Amanda waved her over with a big smile.
The Evertons had a chef who could whip up anything from pancakes to fancy crepes, but Amanda wanted to cook for
Narissa herself.
After all those years her daughter spent out in the world, fending for herself, Amanda felt she owed her some mom love.
“Mmm, smells like a dream!” Narissa chirped, practically bouncing to the table like any other teen.
The spread was simple–some sandwiches and cookies–nothing like the gourmet dishes she’d had globetrotting.
But it was good. Gotta be that mom magic.
“Slow down, sweetie! There’s plenty more,” Amanda said, her heart aching as Narissa dug in.
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‘What kind of life did my kid have out there?‘ she thought bitterly.
Once Narissa was stuffed, Amanda got to the point. “So, Narissa, your sister’s already off to Regality Academy–she’s always up at the crack of dawn.
“Your dad had to dash to the office with your grandpa for some big meeting, so they couldn’t wait to see you off.”
“I’ll have the driver take you to the academy,” Amanda added.
Narissa raised an eyebrow, catching the hint.
Amanda’s tone was warm but firm, like she was making sure Narissa knew the family had her back, even though they weren’t there.
It was her way of saying, “No worries, kid.”
Narissa’d poked around online the night before about Regality Academy.
It was the place for rich kids–a fancy training ground for the elite. Getting in was like a golden ticket to Sinney City’s high society.
People fought hard to get their kids enrolled, hoping they’d make connections and maybe learn a thing or two.
The academy wasn’t just hype, though. Word was, their program turned spoiled rich kids into polished pros.
And Cressida? She’d apparently crushed it, earning a rep as the academy’s “star player.”
Narissa’s eyes sparkled with mischief. ‘Oh, this is gonna be good.’
“Narissa, driver’s waiting. Done eating? Get to class,” Amanda said, grabbing her hand with a warm grin.
Sure enough, a shiny luxury car and its driver were parked out front, ready to roll.
Amanda added, “Your sister drove herself, but I figured you don’t have a license yet, so I got you a ride.
“Get one soon, though, and I’ll hook you up with a sick car–your pick–for training.”
“Cool with that?” she asked, eyes bright.
Narissa smirked. “No need, Mom. I’ve got a license.”
Not just one from Rothialand–she had licenses from damn near every country on Earth.
“What?” Amanda froze. “You drive?”
A
The housekeeper and driver nearby froze, jaws dropping. ‘Wait a sec–ain’t this Everton girl, just back from overseas, supposed to be some kinda maid?
‘A Rothialand license? No way, man!‘
Narissa shrugged. “Had to make bank. Driving gigs paid well, so I got licensed everywhere.”
Total cover story, of course. Narissa wasn’t spilling her real past to her family,
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But she wasn’t about to play the helpless rookie either–that’d cramp her style, and she had too much on her plate.
Amanda’s eyes welled up fast. “Oh, honey, you’ve had it tough,” she said, voice cracking. “We’ve got sports cars in the garage. Wanna grab one?
“Or, better yet, this weekend, I’ll take you to pick out a ride you love.”
Narissa eyed her mom. The raw emotion, the way Amanda clung to her hand like she might vanish–it screamed love.
Weird, unfamiliar, but kinda awesome.
“Alright, Mom, pick me a good one,” Narissa said with a sly grin.
“Deal!” Amanda lit up like a kid, practically dragging Narissa to the garage.
When the manager rolled out a fiery red sports car, Narissa’s picky mask cracked.
“Hell yeah,” she muttered. “Lamborghini Reventon. Mid–engine, four–wheel drive, six–speed manual, killer intake, slick camshafts, and a body that slays.”
A total gearhead, Narissa was in love.
This was the kind of car rich kids used to flex and flirt. She didn’t peg the Evertons for owning this kind of beast.
What she missed was how Amanda, the housekeeper, and the manager gaped when she rattled off the car’s specs like it was nothing.
One look, and she’d nailed every detail of a top–tier supercar. That was pro–level gearhead talk.
‘Hold up. Wasn’t she supposed to be scrubbing floors overseas?‘ they wondered. ‘How’s she this good with cars? Like she’s been burning rubber her whole damn life.”
