Connected Blood

14 - Unwelcome Morning

The morning was far from peaceful. I was jolted awake by the loud clanging of pots and pans echoing from the kitchen. It wasn’t just the usual morning rustling—it sounded like someone was either cooking or wreaking havoc on my kitchen. My sleep-addled mind couldn't decide which.

I groaned, rubbing my temples, knowing there was no way I’d be able to fall back asleep. Dragging myself out of bed, I trudged downstairs, my body protesting every step.

"It's still six in the morning, for God's sake, Draco," I muttered groggily, rubbing my eyes as I stepped into the kitchen.

To my surprise, it wasn’t Draco.

Instead, my mother stood by the counter, a pan in her hand, looking at me with an arched brow. "Draco? Who's Draco?" she asked, pausing her chaotic cooking as she turned to me.

I blinked, still groggy, and sighed. "Oh. It's you, Mom. Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

She ignored my question and instead latched onto something else entirely. "Who is Draco? A new boyfriend?" Her voice was teasing, but her gaze was sharp, as if she was analyzing my every move.

"Bodyguard," I replied flatly, already tired of the conversation. "Now, why are you here?" I took a seat on the bar stool, propping my elbows on the counter.

Mom set the pan down with a sharp clang, her expression turning business-like. "I'm here to remind you about the payment for the lot this month."

I exhaled slowly, my fingers drumming against the counter. "Why would I pay for something I didn't even buy or agree to?"

"It's for your future, darling," she replied smoothly, as if that explained everything. "Without me, you wouldn't have any investments. What will you do if your career doesn't last? You'll run out of money without something stable to fall back on." She continued preparing whatever she was cooking, her tone too nonchalant for my liking.

I clenched my jaw. "But you could have told me first before making these decisions."

"I'm telling you now," she countered effortlessly. "And I'm explaining it to you. Now, you need to pay for it little by little—just like you always do."

I knew arguing was pointless. She had made up her mind long before stepping into my house, and I was just expected to comply. With a resigned sigh, I pulled out my phone and transferred five million to her account.

"I sent the money," I muttered, placing my phone back in my pocket. "But please, Mom, next time, tell me first."

She beamed, as if we hadn't just had an argument. "Thank you, darling. Now sit tight, I'll make you breakfast."

I shook my head and stood up. "I need some air."

Stepping outside, I let out a deep breath, trying to release the irritation coiling inside me. This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, and I doubted it would be the last. My parents always handled my money as if it were theirs—making purchases, investments, and decisions without my consent. It wasn’t that I didn’t understand their intentions. I knew they wanted to secure my future. But what frustrated me was their utter disregard for my own plans.

I sank onto the wooden bench in my garden, staring at the sky. The sun was barely up, casting a soft golden glow across the horizon. Morning had just begun, and I was already drained.

"Stressing too much can kill you."

The deep voice startled me. My head snapped up, and I found myself staring at Draco. He stood a few feet away, dressed entirely in black, an umbrella shielding him from the faint sunlight.

My brows knitted together. "What's with your outfit?"

Draco blinked, as if confused by the question. He glanced down at himself—black coat, black boots, black gloves. He even had dark sunglasses on, making him look like he had just stepped out of a funeral.

"What?" he asked, genuinely puzzled.

"Are you attending a funeral or something?" I asked, standing up and brushing past him.

He didn’t reply, and I didn’t bother waiting for one. I went back inside, leaving him standing in the garden.

Mom had finished cooking, and a plate of food was waiting for me on the counter. I sat down and started eating, the tension in my shoulders easing slightly.

"Where's Dad?" I asked between bites.

"At home," Mom answered, taking a seat across from me. "Feeding his other sons."

I rolled my eyes. Sons. She meant his dogs. My father treated them better than he treated me, as if I were the pet and they were his actual children.

I didn't bother commenting. Instead, I focused on eating.

Right on cue, Maxene walked in at exactly 7:30 AM.

"Oh! Hello, Mom! I didn't know you were here!" she greeted cheerfully, hugging my mother tightly.

"I'm just visiting my daughter," Mom replied warmly. Then she glanced at me. "How’s my other daughter?"

I scowled. The way she said it, you’d think Maxene was her biological child and I was the outsider. Not that I blamed her. Mom had taken Max in after her real mother passed away, treating her like family ever since.

Maxene grinned. "A bit stressed. Your daughter is too stubborn for her own good. Overworks herself." She glanced at me playfully before adding, "We have a shoot at 9 AM. Keep an eye out for her new series!"

Mom perked up. "A new series?" She clapped her hands together excitedly. "That's wonderful! I'm so proud of you, darling."

I nodded absentmindedly, finishing the last of my food.

"You need to take care of yourself, Selene," Mom chided. "You work too much."

"I know," I muttered, though we both knew I wasn’t going to slow down anytime soon.

Just then, Mom's gaze shifted behind me, and she suddenly brightened.

"You! Come here!" she called.

I turned to see Draco walking into the house. He barely reacted to Mom's enthusiasm, his usual stoic expression in place.

Mom, however, didn't seem to notice—or care. She grabbed a plate and started piling food onto it before handing it to him.

"You must be Draco," she said, smiling. "Come eat. I'm Selene's mom."

Draco hesitated for a brief moment before taking the plate. His expression softened—just a little.

I watched them in mild amusement. It was rare to see Draco react to anything, but somehow, my mother had managed to make him look like a child being offered his favorite meal.

I couldn't help but chuckle.

Mom shot me a look. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," I said, shaking my head. "Just... nothing."

I finished my breakfast and went upstairs to get ready for work, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that the day was only going to get more complicated.

And I was right.