Chapter 1
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ANASTASIA
Bright stars canvas overhead, glittering and dazzling to add some warmth to the bitter night. I expel a sigh, watching my hot breath exude out as smoke, evaporating into the air. I should be at peace out here.
Letting my mind relax for once, and just focus on the simplicity of the nature above me. Casting a glance to my right, I observe my sister. She’s calm, simply watching the stars hanging in the sky.
Strange .
How is this fun? All we’re doing is staring up at the sky. It’s no surprise that I can’t stop thinking about all the expense reports building up on my desk, or the hundreds of emails that I didn’t get around to answering today.
Maybe I’m the weird one?
The obsessive control freak who is also a certified workaholic. Calista said this would help me. It would take my mind off the shitty day I had but all I can do is spiral into a stress induced coma, thinking about all the work I could be doing right now.
This blanket itches. I shuffle to tug my skirt down that insists on riding up past my ass. “Ouch.” Calista yelps, as my knee accidently knocks into her stomach. I don’t apologize because well, she did drag me out here. “You’re seriously mad at me for this?”
“I’m not mad at you.” I retort, still adjusting my skirt.
“Well, you haven’t said anything in ten minutes and then you physically attack me?”
I scoff. “Seriously? That was not an attack. It was an accident.”
“Well, you didn’t apologize.”
“Because maybe I didn’t want to.” Childish I know, but if anyone brings out that side in me it’s her. My younger sister by just four years and yet our lives couldn’t be more different .
She’s still figuring her shit out, having dropped out of boarding school unlike the rest of us. Now she lives in a crappy apartment below the art gallery where she works, barely scraping together enough pennies to pay her bills.
I don’t understand why and I doubt I ever will. Our family is known for our wealth. We’ve been in magazines ranging from Vogue to Forbes and our family legacy has been listed as one of the top five fortune 500 companies. Yet my sister would rather be drinking stale coffee than let me help her.
Of course, I wouldn’t voice any of this to her. My dad does that enough and I’ve seen the strain it puts on their relationship. Calista is one of the closest people to me and I intend to keep it that way.
She laughs off my rudeness, all too used to it. “Stars are amazing Stasia. You just need to look long enough.”
I adjust the pillow beneath my head, “Trust me, I have. They’re just balls of gas held together by gravity. I don’t see the point in staring at them for hours.”
“Look there,” She points up at a brighter collection of stars. “See that, it’s the Big Dipper.” Her finger traces the outline and I feel my interest pique a little.
I narrow my eyes at her. “How did you know that?”
She shrugs, “Just practice, I guess. Jeremiah is doing this whole collection on celestial bodies and since my name is Calista, he wanted my portrait for some of the pieces. He would explain it all to me whilst he painted and then I guess, I just got really into it.”
Calista means most beautiful in Greek, which perfectly attributes to my sister with her pin straight hair and soft features. Yet it also refers to the Great Bear constellation after the mythological Arcadian, a projection of wilderness and mystery that my sister exudes.
“I think Jeremiah should work on his flirting techniques instead of dragging you away from your own work.”
I catch her blush despite the dim light. “He was just working.” My little sister is way too naive to the tragic reality of men.
“No, he wanted to get into your pants and distracted you from what’s important. Your career.”
“Not much of a career. I’ve only finished three paintings this past month.”
“And they’re all beautiful, gallery worthy pieces of art. That one of mom is my favorite.”
“Dad tried to buy it off me, but I wouldn’t let him.”
“Why not? You know he wants any excuse to hang up a portrait of mom. The man is obsessed.” She laughs, knowing the extent of their great love. If anyone could bring my father to his knees, it would be my mom.
“I told him to gift it for their anniversary and besides, I want to succeed on my own without any help. Otherwise to me, it wouldn’t feel real.” Ouch . I know she didn’t mean to target me with that but it still stung. She must notice because she shakes her head, “Hey, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know, it’s fine.”
“Really Stasia, I didn’t. You’ve taken over one of the biggest companies in America, not to mention you’re the head of a mafia organization, not to mention you look amazing whilst doing it.”
All true, except she forgot to mention how profits have been down by ten percent since I took over, more rival street gangs have popped up and the board is plotting ways to get rid of me.
“Thanks,” I pop another strawberry into my mouth. Calista ops for chocolate instead. “You know mom would kill us if she knew we were eating before dinner.”
“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, and besides I saw the prep for the meal she was making and there were mushrooms involved so…” I screw up my face just thinking about it. Mushrooms are one thing we both dislike, unfortunately Isla loves them, and it’s her going away dinner after all .
Calista’s phone begins to buzz incessantly. “That better not be Germy on the phone.” I hate my sister’s only artist friend. They met at some gallery showing she was visiting and he roped her into making pieces for his small gallery. Coincidentally, he happens to live below it, meaning she spends a lot of late nights crashing on his couch after a long day of work.
She rolls her eyes. “You know his name is Jeremiah. It’s already locked up inside that eidetic memory of yours so stop being a bitch.”
“Can’t help it. I was born this way.” Her lips twitch at the reference to one of her favorite singers, before she answers the call.
Mom . She mouths and jerks her thumb back towards our family home. I begin to clear up our shit, closing the food containers and placing them into the wicker basket Calista brought out.
Ending the call, she helps me to roll up the blanket and stuffs it beneath her arm whilst reaching for the basket. “I can hold it.” I say as she takes it from me.
“I know, but you work out and I don’t. I need all the heavy lifting I can get.”
“Did Demetri call you a twig again?” Our younger brother loved nothing more than to relentlessly tease Calista since I give him little to nothing of a reaction .
She sighs, “I didn’t take it to heart, but I am weak. Yesterday, I could barely open the gallery door. I was struggling until someone came to help me out. I felt pathetic.”
“Well, I hate to break it to you but carrying a basket every once and a while won’t help you.” I think about offering to help her out in the gym, but my day is so meticulously planned out that the slightest intrusion would—
“I’ll ask mom to help me out. She hates the gym as much as me so maybe we can suffer through it together.” I smile and nod, liking that idea a lot better.
It’s not that I’m a bitch. Well, I am but I’m also just very set in my ways. My routine is the same every day, except for Sundays. It works for me and I’m not a gambler by any means, so I stick with it.
Our family home is the same ten-bedroom extravagant mansion that I grew up in. The entire place is lit up, marking our path back through the gardens that stretches on for a few miles.
Isla is waiting for us by the door, her arms folded across her chest like she’s disappointed in us. “Mom is so angry at you guys for leaving me behind.” I catch the hurt in her eyes before she masks it with rage. “And so am I.”
Before she can slam the door in our faces, I grab her arm and yank her aside. “Hey, we weren't doing anything special. ”
“Just having some sister bonding without me.” Her bottom lip trembles slightly. “I know I’m only sixteen, still a kid in your eyes, but that shit hurts.”
Calista steps in. “We didn’t know you were home yet, Isles. Obviously, we would have told you but there was nothing remotely adult going on.” The nickname seems to soften the blow and she hesitates, glancing between us.
“Sorry, I’m just freaking out a little I guess.”
“I was too before I left. Just go into it with an open mind. I didn’t like it, so I left and mom and dad were fine with that.”
Isla turns to me. I swallow heavily, trying not to think about my time at Ravenswood. “I was excited for it, but when I got there, I was homesick. It’s only natural, but Demetri and Nero will both be there. They’ll look out for you.”
She snorts. “I’m not too sure about that. Nero hates my guts, and the feeling is mutual.” Calista and I share a laugh. The two of them in a room together is a recipe for fucking disaster. “Didn’t you meet Jas there?”
My loud best friend who latched onto me and never let go. They say opposites attract. “Yes, we did. See, it'll be fine. You’ll make new friends, some better than others, and you’ll have a great education too. ”
“Didn’t something else happen during your first year?” My entire body stiffens, unable to escape all the vivid memories that hit me. “I can’t remember it clearly but I swear that you—”
Our mom steps outside, oven mittens still on, and the smell of mushroom risotto following her out. “Girls, the food is getting cold. Stop talking and get inside.”
Isla begrudgingly follows her and I’m about to step inside when Calista grabs my wrist. “Hey, are you okay? It was like you disappeared for a second.”
I plaster on a smile, or what’s considered a smile for me. “I’m fine, just tired I guess.”
“Isla was talking about that summer. No-one really knows what happened to you at the school, you sort of just shut everyone out and then—”
“Calista.” I snap. She presses her lips shut and walks ahead of me in silence.
I sigh, leaning back against the wall for a moment. There’s this strange feeling inside of my chest, almost a squeezing that I can’t just ignore. I clutch at it, as if trying to rip it out, but I know it’s futile.
Nostalgia is a bitch. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.
Having my memory doesn’t help. I can recall most things in my life. The memories are always so vivid they jump out of me, forcing me to relive the past no matter how hard I fight to escape it.
Even the parts you want to gloss over or erase from existence. I simply can’t. It’s all just stuck in there.
Ravenswood was the darkest part of my life. The part that I try to forget and ignore but it’s still in there somewhere, lurking in the back and just waiting to strike at me.
I refuse to let emotion overtake me this time. No tears spring to my eyes but it’s the hollowness inside my chest that takes me aback. I haven’t cried since then. Yet still, I can’t escape it and I don’t know if I ever will.