The next few days felt like a blur—back-to-back meetings, calls, and emails that kept me buried in work. But through it all, Skye's words kept replaying in my head. I wasn't sure if it was just my desire to escape my family's expectations, or if it was something deeper, but I started to realize just how much of my life had been dictated by other people. The more I thought about it, the more I understood that playing the part I never wanted, doing everything by the book, had never truly been me.
At times, the weight of my family's legacy felt overwhelming, like a mask I was constantly forced to wear. I was always expected to be the perfect daughter—the one who never rocked the boat, who attended all the right events, made all the right appearances, and spoke with a polished, rehearsed tone. But deep down, I knew I was more than just a face in a crowd of elite names and high society events.
It wasn't like I had all the answers, but I couldn't keep living someone else's version of my life.
One evening, after another draining day full of work, I found myself back at my family's building, the familiar marble floors and towering columns creating an almost oppressive sense of control. It was hard to find a space here that didn't remind me of the heavy expectations that came with being a Sterling.
But then, I noticed something different. As I stepped into the elevator, the hum of the soft music and the smooth movement of the floor beneath my feet felt almost like a pause. For a split second, I felt... calm. Maybe it was the silence, or maybe it was the weight of the decisions I had to make, but I took a deep breath, preparing for whatever was ahead.
When the elevator door opened to the family floor, I found myself staring at the glossy wooden doors to my office. It wasn't just a room—it was the space I'd spent countless hours just for work. The place where I'd pushed myself beyond what anyone expected. A reminder that even in this world of constraints, I could still carve out a piece of my own.
I walked over to my desk, ignoring the calls that had been piling up. Instead, I sat down, letting the quiet take over, and thought about what Skye had said. "Just be yourself," I whispered to myself.
•
Not long after, someone approached from the end of the hallway—it was my personal assistant, Kelly. The only person in this entire building who truly got me. She knew most of my struggles, even the ones I never said out loud.
"Lena, you've been zoning out for the past half hour," she said gently, her voice laced with concern. "What's on your mind? Is it work? If there's anything I can help with, just say the word."
I offered a small smile. "Oh, it's nothing serious. I've just been thinking about the gala that's coming up in three weeks. I haven't picked a dress yet—too swamped to even look." I couldn't exactly tell her the real reason the gala was stressing me out. If I did, it would somehow end up back with my parents before the hour was up.
"Ahh… about that," Kelly said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I meant to bring it up earlier, but you were so busy today I didn't get the chance. Your mother called. She asked me to clear your schedule for tomorrow—Saturday. She wants you to go dress shopping for the gala. You're allowed to bring Skye along... and two of the bodyguards. Just in case."
Of course. Dress shopping with an entourage.
I let out a quiet sigh and leaned back in my chair. "Right. Just another perfectly planned outing," I muttered.
Kelly gave me a sympathetic look, one I'd come to appreciate more than any of her reminders or calendar updates. "I know it's not really your thing lately, but… if you're going to have to go, at least take Skye. She'll keep you sane."
I smirked. "True. She'll probably convince me to try on something dramatic, just to make my mom sweat."
"I mean, is it even a Sterling event if your mother doesn't side-eye your fashion choices at least once?" Kelly said, raising an eyebrow.
I laughed softly, some of the tension lifting from my shoulders. "Touché."
She took a few steps toward the door before pausing. "Do you want me to have a few boutiques block off private time for you two tomorrow afternoon? I'll make sure they're quiet—no press, no crowds."
I hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah… that would be nice. Thanks, Kelly."
"Of course." She offered a warm smile before stepping out, the soft click of the door closing behind her.
I sat in silence for a moment, staring down at the dark surface of my desk. Maybe the dress didn't really matter. Maybe none of it did. But for some reason, this year felt different. Like something was going to shift—I didn't know what, or how, but I could feel it coming.
And if I had to be in the spotlight again, maybe this time, I'd be the one holding the script.
After Kelly left, I stayed in my office longer than I needed to. I skimmed through emails, half-heartedly glanced at tomorrow's schedule, and stared out at the glittering skyline. The city always looked so alive at night—like it was promising something more. But lately, even that shimmer felt distant.
By the time I made it outside, my driver was already waiting. The black car, polished to perfection, blended into the shadows of the private lot behind the Sterling building. He gave me a polite nod as he opened the door, saying nothing—just the way I liked it.
The ride home was quiet. City lights flickered past the tinted windows as we drove through silent streets toward the Sterling estate. Our house sat behind tall iron gates and sculpted hedges, hidden from view unless you knew exactly where to look. A mansion with too many rooms and not enough warmth.
Once inside, I kicked off my heels in the foyer, the sound of them landing on the marble floor echoing through the vast space. The lights were dimmed, the staff already retired for the night. I didn't bother checking if my parents were still awake.
I headed straight for my bedroom, the only part of the house that actually felt like mine. I shrugged off my blazer and let it fall over the chair, unbuttoned my blouse, and tossed my jewelry onto the tray on my dresser. The air smelled faintly of lavender, thanks to the diffuser someone must have refilled earlier.
I changed into my pajamas, collapsing onto my bed, I pulled the sheets over me and stared at the ceiling, my thoughts drifting where I didn't want them to. I reached for my phone, paused at his name, then locked it again and dropped it face down. Not tonight.
I closed my eyes, letting the silence settle. Somewhere in the distance, I could still hear the hum of the security system. The house was calm. Immaculate. Beautiful.