Chapter 2

As a sleek black Orion pulled up to the grand Gennadi estate, Samara stared out the window, her small hands fidgeting with the hem of her dress. The imposing mansion loomed ahead; its sprawling structure illuminated by warm lights that spilled out from countless windows. To anyone else, the sight would be breathtaking-a symbol of wealth, power, and the luxurious life that came with being a Gennadi. But to samara, it was nothing more than a golden cage, one that held memories of neglect and silent suffering.

She stepped out of the Car, her feet sinking slightly into the perfectly manicured gravel of the driveway. Mr. Jamil, who was sitting in the front passenger sit gave her a curt nod before driving off, leaving samara to stand alone in front of the massive oak doors. The house was no longer impressive to her, not after everything she had endured within its walls. fourth was third time she had laid eyes on it from this spot in the same manner, on the same day. Once as the ordinary girl she had been before in her first life as samara and three times since then.

Before she was samara Gennadi, she had been an average girl named Emily who lived in the UK. Orphaned at a young age, she had grown up in a small underfunded orphanage. Her life had been unremarkable; she had been slightly below average in academics, and wasn't athletically involved. Somehow, she managed to scrape through high school and eventually enrolled in a small, local university where she earned an English degree. She decided to become a teacher, be someone who could guide children the way she had never been. But on the first day of her new teaching job, as she was walking to the school, a stray brick had fallen from a construction site above. She remembered the impact, the sudden sharp pain, and then...darkness.

When she awoke, she was no longer Emily. She was a baby girl, Samara Gennadi, the first-born daughter of an immensely wealthy and powerful family in a world that felt like something out of a novel. The people here had fantastical hair colors-vibrant pinks, blues, and silvers that could never exist on earth. The languages, customs', and even the advanced technology, though not on a Sci-Fi level felt foreign and yet eerily familiar, as if she were living inside one of the books she used to escape into.

In those early days of her life as samara, she had been thrilled, convinced that this new life was a second chance to be extraordinary. She threw herself into her studies, training in everything, academics to sports to manners, to high-class speaking and behavior, she was determined to make the most of the opportunity she had been given. but ad the years passed, the harsh reality set in. despite all her efforts, she found herself falling short of the super geniuses in her elite school, ranking only 60th to 70th out of 120 students. She was still excellent, but in an environment where excellence was the norm, It wasn't enough. And then there was Alara, her younger sister, who consistently ranked lose to the bottom, yet always received their parents' full attention and affection.

Serena's lips curled into a bitter smile as she stared up at the mansion. She remembered how she was expecting a life of love and privilege. Now all she felt was a deep lingering sense of disappointment. Ita grandeur was nothing compared to the emptiness that filled it.

Her thoughts drifted back to the day she was born into this world, a memory that resurfaced by the ending of her second life. The day she was born was subdued. There had been no excitement or celebration, no joyful gathering of the family and friends, but a strong air of disappointment. She thought it was quite normal and she would make them to like her. But when she turned two, her sister Alara was born. Alara was showered with unconditional love and attention. There were lavish parties, endless gifts and the constant presence of their mother who had taken time off from her busy schedule to personally are for Alara. In stark contrast, Samara had been raised by a hired nanny, a woman who was kind but distant, treating her charge with the professionalism of a well-paid employee rather than the warmth of mother's love.

It was still in her better second life that Samara had heard from her 'loving sister Alara', a gossip she had overheard in a socialite gathering. That while she was in the womb, because of the placement of her limbs and umbilical cord, she had been mistaken for a son.

The epiphany she realized along with the weight of the realization had stayed with her, a constant reminder of her parents' disappointment. They had expected a son and had had a daughter instead. A daughter they clearly hadn't wanted. The rule of the Gennadi family is that the first child of the current head becomes the heir unless under special circumstances, which doesn't include the gender of the child. For generations, the first child was always a boy and samara broke a generational chain in a patriarchal household. 

This unspoken resentment and disappointment colored every interaction, every cold glance, and every moment of neglect she had experienced growing up in the Gennadi household.

She entered the house, passing through the grand foyer with its gleaming marble floors and towering columns. The staff greeted her politely, she returned their greetings, as she made her way to the dining room, she couldn't help but think about the events that had unfolded in this very place in her previous lives.

Dinner was served promptly, without an ounce of tomatoes. The efficiency of Mr. Jamil samara thought.

She ate quietly, the absence of her family only adding to the silence. She knew they were on the way from the hospital after endlessly doting over Alara's minor fever, completely unaware that samara had been diagnosed with an allergy. it was always the same-Alara's smallest discomforts took precedence over samara's serious issues.

As she ate, she remembered what would come next. Her parents would return home, laden with gifts for Alara. They would make a fuss over her, ignoring samara and that she almost passed due to a severe allergic reaction.

When the front door finally opened, samara was ready. She heard her parents' voices in the foyer, followed by Alara's excited chatter. Just as she had predicted, the staff behind them were carrying bags full of toys and treats for her sister.

''Samara,'' her mother called out as they entered the dining room. You are having dinner. Why didn't you wait for us to have dinner together?''

Samara had anticipated this question. ''Dr Thorne prescribed some medication and said it needed to be taken latest by eight o'clock,'' she replied smoothly, not specifying what the medication was for.

Her mother hesitated, momentarily thrown off by the mention of Dr. Thorne's name. ''oh, well, that is understandable,'' she finally said, her tone shifting. ''it is good that you are following the doctor's instructions.''

Samara nodded, inwardly satisfied. Her parents had always revered Dr. Iris Thorne, a world-renowned allergist, whose impactful name is tied to DanilG medical center. By invoking her name, Samara effectively silenced any criticism her parents might have had.

Just as samara was about to excuse herself for the night, Alara who'd been quietly eating through her treats, approached her with a wide smile, holding a bruschetta slice with tomato topping. ''Sammy, do you want some? They are very yummy!''

Samara's heart tightened. The second major ordeal of this night that each time had consequences, the first blow of her rebirths.

In the first life, she had simply rejected the offer, earning a childish pout from Alara and their parents' ire. They had decided that as punishment for upsetting her sister, neither they or any staff would follow along to her first day of school the next morning. Serena had been left at fend for herself, feeling abandoned.

In her second life, she had tried to nicely explain to Alara why she couldn't accept the snacks, hoping to build a better relationship with her sister by being honest and considerate. But her parents had interrupted her and twisted her actions as an attempt to burden and guilt trip her sister for her kind gesture, accusing her of being manipulative and calculating. Samara accepted the scolding's accepting the accusations and apologizing because she wanted to be the perfect daughter.

In the third life, her rebellious life, she didn't even bother to come downstairs when her parents returned home, Alara had come directly to her room, offering the slice again. This time around she blatantly ignored her and accused her parents of trying to poison her to death. This brought about a large drama and she was brought to the main home, where her grandfather, who only heard a one-sided story chastised her for being ''unmannered and lacked filial piety,'' grounding her for a week and making her miss the first week of school.

This time however, Samara was prepared, she took the plate from Alara with a small ingenuine smile. ''thank you, Alara, that's very sweet of you,'' she said, glancing briefly at her parents, who were watching the exchange. She carefully set the plate on the table beside her, deliberately making no move to eat it. ''But I just took my medication, so I should avoid eating anything right now. Maybe later?''

Alara blinked, her smile faltering slightly. ''Oh... okay'' she seemed a little disappointed but quickly forgot about it as she dug into her own plate of snacks.

Their parents exchanged a look but said nothing, likely because samara had used the Dr. Thorne's medical advice as an excuse. Samara's pulse slowed as she realized that for the first time in after three lives of trial, she had managed to avoid a confrontation.

She politely excused herself and went upstairs to her room leaving her parents to continue dote on Alara or do whatever they want. Once in her room, samara closed the door and leaned against it, letting out a slow breath. She was right. It was a small victory, she'd outmaneuvered them by treating and behaving the way one would to superiors in the circle, one didn't like or wanted to avoid. high society communication rule 1, ''invoke authority rule '': when facing criticism or opposition from someone in a position of power or influence greater than yours, strategically invoke the name, advice or comment of an even higher or respected authority to neutralize the challenge or avoid confrontation. The high society rules were what she had gathered in her first life as samara and almost perfected and fully used in her second life.

She climbed into her bed, pulled the covers up to her chin and stared at the ceiling. The memories of her past lives and her life as Emily, were like ghosts that haunted her, but they also gave her the experience and strength for this run, and she won't waste it.

As she drifted off to sleep, samara knew that the road ahead though they might have been paved by her previous lives, won't be so smooth, she hopes it'll at least be fun and lighter.