Aristocracy101

Chapter 5

Early in the Morning

The first rays of the sun crept through the curtains, hitting her face and pulling her out of a restless sleep.

"Damn..." she groaned, rubbing her forehead. "I forgot to drink the hangover soup." She had never been a good drinker. Her body felt like a lead weight, cold and heavy. Her gaze wandered down, and it only took a moment before she realized with a shock—she was naked.

Screaming, she jolted upright, her panic rising as she glanced at the person next to her. Oliver. She had to blink a few times to make sure her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her.

"Can you keep it down? I’m trying to sleep," Oliver muttered groggily, clearly unaware of the situation at first.

"Oliver!!!" Her voice was sharp, cutting through the air with horror. It took him a moment before his eyes fully opened and he registered what was happening.

"Oh s**t! What did you do, Lilian?" he shouted, scrambling to find his pants.

"What did I do?" Her voice trembled with disbelief as she yanked the sheets higher, feeling exposed. She noticed him staring at her, his eyes lingering for a second too long.

"Nice t**s, by the way," he added, his tone casual, like it was no big deal.

"Shut up, Oliver!!" she screamed, her face flushed a deep shade of red. "Damn it!" she cursed under her breath, mortified.

He sighed and straightened up. "This stays between us, alright? We can't let our parents know about this."

"What do you mean?" Her eyebrow arched in disbelief. "Do you think you can just sleep with me and not take responsibility?" Her voice was dripping with anger, each word laced with frustration.

Oliver’s gaze hardened, and he leaned back slightly, as if putting distance between them. "I don’t remember anything, and I would know. Besides, your figure is... top-notch, Lily."

He always called her that when he was serious or angry. She hated it.

"How do you know? You’re not the one who might get pregnant, Oli," she shot back, her words sharp like daggers. She felt sick, the anger bubbling up inside her. She couldn’t stand the idea of him treating her like one of those girls he casually slept with. Did she mean nothing to him?

Turning to face her, Oliver gave her a cold, dismissive stare, his voice dripping with irritation. "First of all, there’s no blood. And you sure don’t feel any pain with the way you’re talking to me."

"Not all girls bleed on their first night," she defended, her chest tightening with frustration.

"How do I know this isn't just some scheme of yours?" He sounded accusatory, his tone cutting through the tension like a knife.

She was taken aback. "You don’t believe me?" Tears welled up in her eyes, but she didn’t wipe them away. "I would never do that." Her voice cracked, a sharp contrast to her usual composure.

Taking a deep breath, Oliver grabbed his jacket, his face hardening. "Just go home, and let’s cool down. I’ll look into this and make sure it doesn’t get out. I really hope you’re not involved in this... for your sake." He didn’t wait for a reply before walking out, slamming the door behind him, leaving Lilian to cry in silence.

♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦

Lilian raced through the streets in her car, her heart pounding in her chest. Anxiety gripped her. She was exhausted, confused, and scared. Her phone had died just before she’d seen 50 missed calls from her mom, five from her girlfriends, and three from her dad.

The way her father called... it could only mean one thing. Something was terribly wrong.

Pulling into her driveway, she hurried toward the door, her movements frantic. Her hair was a tangled mess, and the smell of alcohol clung to her, reminding her of the chaos from the night before. She had no idea what kind of punishment awaited her—only that it was going to be bad.

"Damn," she muttered to herself. "Whoever did this is going to pay tenfold."

She loved Oliver, but she couldn’t lower herself to whatever game he was playing. He hated betrayal, and she just hoped this wouldn’t end in the worst possible way.

The door swung open, and without warning, a cup flew toward her, striking her forehead with brutal precision. Blood welled up from the cut, dripping down her face.

"Ouch..." she groaned, her vision blurring for a second.

"KNEEL DOWN!!!" her father’s voice thundered, sending a shiver of dread through her.

"Good morning, paps," she greeted him, trying to steady herself despite the sharp pain. This might leave a scar... another injury to add to my list, she thought bitterly.

"How is it a good morning?" her father scoffed, seething with rage. "You’ve brought shame to our family name!" His voice was filled with disgust as he turned to glare at her mother.

Lilian watched, helpless, as her mother shrank back, fear visible in her eyes.

"Honey..." her mother began, trying to speak, but her father cut her off.

"Look at the daughter you raised," he sneered. "She’s a disgrace!"

He looked ready to throw the vase next to him at Lilian, his anger reaching new heights.

"KNEEL DOWN!" he barked a second time, his face twisted with fury.

"Father, if you don’t explain what I’ve done wrong, I can’t take this punishment." Her voice was shaky, but she stood her ground. She acknowledged that returning late wasn’t ideal, but it didn’t warrant being assaulted with a cup or forced to kneel.

She saw the maids huddled together in fear, their eyes wide. It reminded her of a memory she wished she could forget.

When she was fourteen, her older sister had brought shame to the family by dating a boy who didn’t meet their standards. She didn’t remember the full details—only the night her sister left, never to return. Despite her mother’s pleas, her father had refused to look for her.

Her sister had only been eighteen.

From that moment on, Lilian’s father had groomed her for marriage, hoping she would undo the loss caused by her sister’s disappearance. He was driven by power, status, and control.

Pathetic, she thought bitterly. That’s all he cared about.

"Good... good," her father muttered, his rage simmering. "You’ve grown wings, haven’t you?"

His voice was quieter now, but it was no less menacing.

"Have you seen the web?" he asked, sitting down heavily in a chair. He was exhausted from standing, but his fury hadn’t diminished.

"No... my phone..." she started, but her father cut her off.

"Gerald!" he snapped. "Give her a phone."

The butler, Gerald, approached, handing her a phone without a word. She unlocked it, her hands trembling, dreading what she might find.

And then, she saw it.