Rising from Ashes: Reborn 17

Chapter 5: Shadows of The Past and Faces of The Present

Mayella POV:

The classroom was alive with speculation regarding the upcoming 20th-anniversary celebration of Wardell School. A number of high-profile guests were expected, but the one name that evoked the most curiosity was that of Wiktor from Unity.

"Mr.Zephyr," I began cautiously as I stood in Mr. Zephyr’s office later that day, "I've heard through various channels that our honored guest, Wiktor, isn't particularly fond of female company. Appointing Arabella and myself to receive him might not be in the school’s best interest."

Mr. Zephyr raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback.

"Where are you getting this from, Mayella?"

Drawing a steadying breath, I continued, "Westwood, which was formerly known as Eternity, has its roots in my mother's London lineage. Growing up, I was exposed to snippets of information about Unity and the elusive Wiktor."

His gaze remained skeptical.

"Should the school really be restructuring its plans based on mere 'snippets'?"

I pressed on, compelled to make my concerns heard.

"The elite circles in London frequently whisper about Wiktor's distinct aversion to women. I'm not weaving tales. If I am wrong, let the universe bear witness and strike me down."

These weren't just tales or fleeting gossip, but experiences from a life once lived. In that life, the maze of London's high society was fraught with whispers about Wiktor. An illustrious actress once attempted to ensnare him, only to be coldly shunned and ostracized by Unity. Though I had departed young in that life, I distinctly remembered the tales of Wiktor's solitary disposition, a lone wolf amidst a city of lions and snakes.Arabella, who had been a silent observer up until now, shifted uncomfortably. Her lips parted as if to object, but before she could utter a word, an icy voice echoed from the doorway.

"Hates women, you say?" The chilling voice questioned, cutting through the room's tension. "It's unlike me to entertain baseless rumors."

In the doorway stood Wiktor, exuding a daunting aura. Immaculately dressed in a black suit, his presence dwarfed everything else. His chiseled features, obsidian eyes, and jet-black hair were enthralling. It felt as though the room's oxygen had been siphoned out in his wake.

This was an unplanned meeting, years before our paths were destined to cross in my previous life. Back then, I had conveniently been absent during his address at the school.

But now, fate seemed intent on ensuring our worlds collided. The weight of this unanticipated encounter pressed down on me, its implications unfathomable.The room's atmosphere thickened with each tick of the wall clock, each second making the presence of the enigmatic Wiktor more intense. His entrance had altered the dynamics entirely. The air, now charged with tension and curiosity, weighed heavily on us all.

"I hope," Wiktor began, his deep voice smooth yet threatening, echoing against the walls, "that there hasn’t been a misrepresentation of my professional inclinations."

Our eyes locked, and the depth of those eyes drew me in. Memories of the whispers, the hushed talks about him from my past life, intertwined with the raw emotions of this unexpected encounter. Though I had missed crossing paths with him in my previous existence, here he was, challenging and probing, much earlier in my life's narrative.

Mustering up the courage, I responded,

"Your business preferences, especially regarding who you work with, are well-known in London’s elite circles."

Mr. Zephyr appeared as a deer caught in headlights, regret and uncertainty written all over his face. He had not anticipated that the school celebration preparations would evolve into such a dramatic turn of events.

He chuckled, a sound both inviting and menacing.

"Common knowledge? Well, that's amusing. I've always believed one shouldn't trust the grapevine."

The awkward silence that followed was palpable. But then, with a slight shift in demeanor, before Wiktor could continue, Mr. Zyphyr chimed.

"Why the unexpected visit, Mr. Wiktor?" Mr. Zephyr inquired, trying to inject warmth into his voice.

Wiktor's gaze never wavered from mine.

"I wanted to see firsthand the preparations for my upcoming address. And I'm particularly curious about these arrangements," his voice dripping with condescension.

Arabella, ever the peacemaker, took a step forward, attempting to interject,

"Mr. Wiktor, this is my younger sister, Mayella. She might be a bit overwhelmed right now..."

He silenced her with a chilling glare.

"Did I ask?"

She recoiled, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. The weight of the man's disdain evident. I, however, refused to be intimidated.

"Mr. Wiktor," I began, trying to steady my voice, "I might not be your ideal assistant for the celebration, but I promise to do my best."

A cold, mocking chuckle escaped his lips.

"A school girl promising her best? How quaint."

"Perhaps," I countered, my voice stronger, "but I value honesty over pretense."

His gaze on me intensified, a silent challenge. For a moment, the room was electric with tension. Then, with a dismissive flick of his hand, he uttered,

"Leave."

Relief coursed through me as I exited, the weight of the encounter heavy on my mind. Whatever the future held with Unity and its enigmatic leader, I was determined not to repeat the mistakes of a past life.

The moment the door closed behind me, a sharp grip on my arm halted my escape. Arabella’s face was a tempest of emotions, the hallways of Wardell momentarily forgotten.

"Mayella! What the hell do you think you're doing?" Arabella hissed, her eyes flashing dangerously.

Pulling my arm free, I took a moment to size her up. The prim and perfect façade she presented in Mr. Zephyr’s office was now replaced by one of anger and concern.

"You might have just jeopardized our entire family's reputation," she continued, her voice dripping with accusation. "Unity is a powerhouse! Do you understand the weight of what you’ve just done?"

I laughed mirthlessly, leaning against a locker.

“You really think pandering to Wiktor’s whims would’ve protected our family business? If you're so eager to kowtow to him, be my guest. But don't expect me to play along."

Arabella’s face reddened.

"You always do this, Mye! Playing the rebellious, misunderstood card. But this isn’t one of your schoolgirl games. These are real-world stakes."

I squared off, my patience wearing thin.

"You've always looked down on me, Bella, thinking you're the wise younger sister. But you know what? Your vision is as narrow as a tunnel. Unity might be powerful, but we aren’t powerless."

She scoffed, tossing her immaculate hair over her shoulder.

“You’ve always been too naive, thinking that your moral high ground would protect you. But the world doesn’t work that way. We have to make sacrifices.”

“And where has that gotten us? Do you truly believe that bowing down to every demand and whim will make Westwood prosper? Or is it more about elevating yourself in the eyes of men like Wiktor?"

Arabella’s lips quivered, and for a moment, she looked vulnerable, almost childlike. Then the mask went up again.

"You wouldn’t understand."

Taking a deep breath, I softened my tone slightly.

"Arabella, I'm not trying to ruin anything for our family. I'm just trying to forge a different path. One where we don’t always bend.”

She stared at me, her face unreadable. After what felt like an eternity, she murmured,

“Maybe there’s more to you than I thought.” And with that, she turned, leaving me alone in the hallway, the weight of our confrontation lingering in the air.