HIS DARKEST REVENGE

IN THE BEGINNING

CHAPTER 4:

SABRINA'S POV:

NINE YEARS AGO…

(This is a flashback to Sabrina's high school life. The very beginning of her story.)

I was in my room, trying to figure out what shade of brown I was going to use to outline my painting. I stared at the canvas, my earbuds plugged in, loud soul music blasting in my ears.

I did not hear them at first, but the door opened, revealing Alvina who came into my room, without knocking as usual.

I rolled my eyes. I have told that girl to stop barging into my room like that.

She took one good look at me as if she caught me doing something I wasn't supposed to be doing.

I looked at her confused. Her mouth moved as if she was saying something. But I could not hear what she was saying.

She then motioned for me to remove my earplugs.

Ohhh…I forgot I was wearing that. I removed them and I could hear her now.

“Didn't you hear the news?” She said, her tiny voice sounding more like an eagle's screech with how excited she was.

I shook my head. What news could be so important that she brought herself…hold on, I remembered now,

“Wait, is it dad?” I asked, my attention on her completely now.

“Yes. Daddy won. He's the Mayor of the city now.”

Ohhh….ohhh.

“That's great news now Sabrina. Finally, we can move out of this house. I can finally afford that Porsche I always wanted. Ohhh this is going to be so great.” She continued, her eyes glazed over completely with excitement.

I know Alvina. She was most likely not excited about the fact that my father won the election. She was more happy about the benefits that came with it.

“Now Clara better watch her back. After all that taunting that my father was not powerful enough to win the election.” She said, Glancing over at me, she asked,

“ Aren't you happy for daddy?” She has probably noticed my neutral expression.

I forced a smile,

“ Of course. I am elated. This is great news.”

She scoffed, obviously not impressed by my reaction to the news.

“You are so weird.” She concluded, strutting out of my room, muttering something about wondering how I was related to her.

I slumped back in my chair.

I have mixed feelings about this news. On one hand, I am happy for father. He had always wanted to become someone important in society. I know how much this win mattered to him, especially in his political career.

But there are was this feeling I could not quite put away.

Uncertainty, about what this news was going to do in our lives.

This is going to be a great turnaround in the life of this family. My dad was no longer just one of the city's most successful business men, he was now someone of much importance, the Mayor.

One thing I am sure of now is the fact that I would no longer live the quiet, comfortable life I have been living.

The life of the Mayor's immediate family is going to be so much more different from the life I am living now.

And I do not want that life at all.

But I have no other choice. As long as I remained under my father's roof, I was going to have to live that life.

I stared at my painting, all the vigour I was using to paint earlier was completely gone. This news have dampened my mood.

I don't know what this future holds for me. And I don't like what I fear it would be.

Life as the daughter of the Mayor hit me sooner and harsher than I wanted it to.

Right from the moment his win was announced, to the preparation for his swearing in ceremony, which was very hectic by the way. We were moving from meetings, to stylists, to interviews all at once. At least Alvina was enjoying this.

My brother got the worst part of this though. He was the Mayor's first son, so he was always with father almost everywhere.

The day he was sworn in was the day we moved to the Mayor's quarters. It was a much bigger house than our old house. The amount of times I got lost and a servant had to help me find my way was incredulous.

The only thing that I managed to retain from my old life was my school. Our father chose to keep us in our old school so he would seem “down to earth.”

That was not true, my father was definitely not down to earth but at least, I could still keep going to my old school.

My father, by the way, he's changed a lot. He was not the same man I knew. Just in the space of five months, he was now a different man. It was like this side of him was always there, I just never saw it. He was no longer the soft, caring and humble man I always knew.

And that was just part of the changes I feared.

The rest of my siblings seemed to be taking this better than the rest of us.

School also sort of became another new experience. The attention that was automatically drawn to us as the Mayor's children was too much. While Alvina and Bethany managed it, I could not and I just shut everyone out to the extent that I was labeled as arrogant, which honestly, I didn't mind.

Today was Physical education class and we were doing tracks.

Everything was going fine, until I tripped and fell, my knees scraping the track field, causing a bruise.

I winced. I could hear the snickering coming from above me.

“f*****g hell.” I cursed under my breath.

The PE instructor quickly came beside me,

“Are you alright Miss Woods?” He asked. He looked worried, probably scared that the daughter of the Mayor got injured in his class.

I felt bad for him.

I stood up and replied him,

“ I am fine sir, it's just a small bruise. I would be fine if I just tended to it.”

“ Would you be needing help, I can ask one of your classmates to…”

“No its fine Mr Morris, I can handle it myself.” The last thing I need is one of my snickering coursemates touching my hurting knee.

I limped into the school building and found our empty classroom. I took the first aid box and started cleaning the wound.

I was fiddling with the band aid, trying to figure how I would use it to cover the large bruise without using too much. The blood from the wound began to flow out again, despite having cleaned it with a solution.

I was beginning to get frustrated. Maybe I should have taken the help Mr Morris offered earlier.

“Do you need help?” came a bold voice from the entrance.

I looked up and my eyes met that of Lorenzo Visconti.

He was a senior in tenth grade and the school's most notorious student.

He didn't wait for my response before he came and took the box of cotton wool and began cleaning my wound.

I opened my mouth in shock and nothing coherent could come out.

“What…what are you doing?” I asked, shifting away from him.

He looked up at me,

“Can you stay still for a bit and let me clean your wound properly.” He pleaded.

Reluctantly, I allowed him to help me with my wound.

When he was done, I thanked him.

I stood up to walk out of the classroom. The atmosphere was weird around him.

But his voice stopped me,

“Wait.”