Part To Meet

Two days later, Veronica stood on the front steps of the hospital, her small suitcase in hand. Marcus was waiting by the car, his expression unreadable. She hesitated for a moment, taking one last look at the gray Ohio skyline. This had been her home, her entire world, and now she was leaving it behind.

The drive to the airport was quiet, the tension between them palpable. Marcus tried to make small talk, but Veronica gave him nothing. She stared out the window, her mind replaying the events of the past week over and over like a broken record.

At the airport, Marcus ushered her onto a private jet—a world she had never imagined herself in. The leather seats, the sleek design, the attentive staff—it all felt foreign and overwhelming.

As the plane took off, Veronica looked out the window, watching Ohio fade into the distance. She felt a pang of guilt, a sense of betrayal, but she pushed it down. Her mother was gone, and nothing could change that. Maybe this new life in Beverly Hills would be a chance to start over, to rebuild. Or maybe it would just be another disaster waiting to happen.

Veronica didn't know. But for now, all she could do was take the leap and hope she landed on her feet.

The towering gates of the mansion creaked open, revealing a sprawling estate that seemed more like a palace than a home. Veronica clutched her suitcase tightly as the sleek black car rolled up the winding driveway. The grandeur of the place was overwhelming—white columns flanked the entrance, and manicured gardens stretched as far as the eye could see.

"This is where I live now?" she whispered, more to herself than to Marcus, who was seated beside her in the car.

Her father, Marcus Hasting, gave her a small smile, though his eyes betrayed a hint of nervousness. "It's your home now, Veronica. I know it's a lot, but you'll get used to it."

She didn't respond. How could she? Just a week ago, she'd been in a small house in Ohio with peeling wallpaper and creaky floors. Now she was about to step into a world she didn't understand—a world that felt like it belonged to someone else.

The car came to a stop, and before she could gather her thoughts, the front door opened. A woman emerged, her blonde hair styled perfectly, her figure encased in an elegant white dress that screamed wealth and sophistication. Her smile was practiced, her blue eyes scanning Veronica from head to toe.

"You must be Veronica," the woman said, her tone polite but distant. "I'm Margaret, your father's wife."

Veronica forced a smile. "Nice to meet you," she murmured, though the words felt foreign on her tongue.

Behind Margaret, two figures appeared. A boy and a girl—twins who looked her age, by the look of them. They were both strikingly beautiful, with the same golden hair and sharp features as their mother.

"I'm Alex," the boy said, stepping forward with a confident smirk. "And this is my sister, Ashley."

Ashley gave her a nod, his expression unreadable. "Welcome," she said simply.

"Thank you," Veronica replied, her grip tightening on her suitcase.

The house was even more overwhelming inside. Marble floors gleamed under crystal chandeliers, and every piece of furniture looked like it belonged in a museum. Margaret led her on a brief tour, pointing out the living room, the dining room, and the library, all of which were larger than her entire house back in Ohio.

When they reached her bedroom, Veronica hesitated before stepping inside. The room was spacious and beautifully decorated, with a four-poster bed, a walk-in closet, and floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a stunning view of the backyard pool. It was a far cry from the tiny room she'd grown up in, where the wallpaper was faded, and the bed squeaked every time she moved.

"This will be your room," Margaret said. "If you need anything, just ask one of the staff."

"Staff?" Veronica repeated, her voice tinged with disbelief.

Margaret raised an eyebrow. "The maids and butlers. They're here to help."

Veronica nodded, though the idea of having people wait on her felt absurd. As Margaret left the room, Veronica set her suitcase on the bed and sat down, her head spinning.

She was a stranger in this house, in this life.