The Unwanted Twin and Her Alpha Protector

Chapter 3: Damn My Life

Riley POV

The next day, I put on my school uniform, wincing at how it rubbed against my ribs, which are still bruised from the last punishment, and viewed myself in the mirror, frowning at my reflection. I’m pale as a ghost, my hair limply falling to my waist, my eyes cold. I no longer reflected the young, cheerful girl who used to dance down these hallways and sing to herself. That Riley is gone. They killed her. Now all that’s left is an empty shell and a pain so deep inside my heart that it’s almost a miracle it hasn’t shattered.

I straightened my shoulders and mustered up all my strength. I was going to need it for the day ahead. I refused to show fear, refused to show any sign of weakness that could be exploited. Sofia was probably already planning something; I had to be ready for it. That b***h would never quit. Not so long as we were breathing the same air.

“This is as good as it gets, I guess,” I murmured, shaking my head at the plain white shirt and grey skirt with a sigh.

Boring. Predictable. What students attending an expensive academy would wear. It feels wrong. I climbed downstairs and made my way to the family dining room, smoothing down my skirt, thankful that sometime during the night, a schoolbag and all the essentials had been placed inside my room. My family is seated together, while a table setting has been put at the other side of the table, far away. I sit down as breakfast is placed in front of me. It’s a piece of toast. I look at everybody else’s plate and take note that their breakfast consists of an assortment of goodies. I was being punished and treated differently. I was going to be starving today, but it was just another nail in the coffin. I bit down on the toast without making a big deal out of it. It was almost laughable if they thought this was going to be enough to break me. I'd suffered worse. A little hunger wouldn't hurt me. I could go days without food if the occasion called for it. Nightingale Academy had made sure of that.

Sofia finally pipes up. Unlike me, she has blonde hair and big baby blue eyes. We're fraternal twins, not identical. Her figure is long and slender, and her face is painted with high-end makeup. Her clothes are tight, showing off her body, her skirt several inches shorter than mine, and her shirt showing off her midriff. It looks clownish. I struggle not to laugh at the fact that she’s trying too hard, or making a comment that she looks like she's about to go stand on the street for her next client. I'm surprised that my parents even let her walk out the door looking like that, but hey, it's not my call.

“Daddy, why does Riley have to go to school with me?” she pouts, “I don’t want her there. Everybody is going to make fun of me for having a sister like her!”

Ah. The victim mentality is already starting. Self-entitled b***h. I didn't exactly want to be connected to her either. Blood or not, she'd framed me six years ago and I wasn't about to forget that in a hurry.

“Honey, it’s grandfather’s will. Riley won’t touch you, I promise, and you don’t have to tell anybody she’s a Smith or your sister. Besides, you both look so different, I doubt anybody would be able to connect the dots.”

He's attempting to placate her. God forbid he took her to task or used tough love on his little princess. As usual, my mother doesn't speak up either. She's always been passive, except when it came to Sofia.

“I’m right here, you know,” I mumbled, rolling my eyes, “and don’t worry, Sofia,” I smiled sweetly at her, my tone dangerous, “I wouldn’t dream of telling anybody we’re related.”

She was so damn petty. She hadn’t changed one bit. Still as selfish as ever and believing the world revolved around her. I finished the measly bit of toast and then shot up, grabbing my backpack and swinging it over my shoulder.

I wince as it cuts into my skin, the bruises on my shoulder still healing. They were a mixture of yellow and green. It wouldn't be long until they vanished, but until then, I was going to be uncomfortable.

“Gotta go. I don’t want to be late,” I said with a hint of sarcasm.

“Oh, that’s right. You’re walking, just like the help,” Sofia drawled, “try not to get lost on the way. Who knows what kind of trouble you got into before at your old school?”

She was starting already. Too bad her intent to embarrass me failed.

“It’s called Google Maps,” I said with amusement. “Nobody with a phone gets lost these days,“ I lowered my voice, glancing over my shoulder and smirking at the dirty look she was giving me, “But thanks so much for your concern, sister.”

God, that felt good. The irony was that none of my parents could tell me off either, because I hadn't been cruel in my delivery, just condescending.