Chapter1
1106 Words
Anaya Hawthorn adjusted her blazer and took a deep breath before stepping into the company of Hawthorn Enterprises. The morning buzz of employees, the ringing phones, and the soft hum of printers created a familiar chaos. She clutched the clipboard in her hand and made her way to the sales department, where she worked…..not as the heiress she was by birth, but as an ordinary sales representative.
She barely took two steps before a shrill voice called out behind her.
“Anaya!”
She closed her eyes briefly, already knowing who it was, turning around, she met the smug face of her half-sister, Raquel Hawthorn, dressed in an expensive suit, her suit is perfectly styled, Raquel looked every bit the pampered princess she was.
“You forgot to bring me my coffee,” Raquel said, tapping her heel impatiently against the marble floor.
Anaya’s jaw clenched, she can get it herself, She has an assistant, doesn’t she? But, of course, Raquel only pulled this nonsense because she could.
“I’m not your assistant,” Anaya said coolly. “If you want coffee, ask Linda.”
Raquel’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?” She crossed her arms. “Just because you’re allowed to work here doesn’t mean you can disrespect me, Remember, I am the CEO’s daughter.”
Anaya’s fingers tightened around her waist. “So am I.”
Raquel let out a dramatic laugh. “Oh, please, We both know Dad only keeps you here because of Grandma. The moment she’s out of the picture, you’ll be gone.”
Anaya felt the words like a slap, but she refused to let them show, instead, she smiled. “Then I guess you should pray she lives forever.”
Before Raquel could fire back, a deep voice interrupted them.
“Raquel, Anaya. Why are you two causing a scene?”
Their father, Richard Hawthorn, walked towards them, his expression unreadable. He was a man who commanded respect with his mere presence, dressed in a tailored navy suit that screamed power.
Raquel immediately switched her expression to one of innocence. “Father, I was just reminding Anaya of her place here.”
Richard barely spared Anaya a glance before sighing. “Anaya, don’t cause trouble. Focus on your work.”
That was it. No reprimand for Raquel, no fairness. Just another reminder that in his eyes, she barely existed.
“I was trying to get to work before I was stopped,” Anaya said, struggling to keep her voice even.
Richard ignored her, already turning to Raquel. “Come to my office later. We have some important investors visiting.”
Raquel beamed. “Of course, Daddy.”
Anaya turned on her heel and walked away before she said something she’d regret.
The sales floor was chaotic as usual. Anaya sat at her desk, trying to focus on the client reports when a colleague, Martin, leaned over.
“You okay?” he asked in a hushed voice.
She forced a smile. “Yeah. Just another fun morning in the Hawthorn family.”
Martin chuckled. “If I were you, I’d be in a private office, not stuck with us commoners.”
Anaya smirked. “Trust me, I’d rather be here.”
Before Martin could respond, a commotion at the entrance made heads turn. The elevator doors slid open, revealing an elderly woman with striking silver hair and sharp green eyes—Margaret Hawthorn, Anaya’s grandmother and the only person in this company who ever truly acknowledged her.
The employees scrambled to greet her, but Margaret’s eyes were fixed on one person.
“Anaya,” she called.
Anaya stood up immediately and walked over. “Grandma, what are you doing here?”
Margaret smiled, but there was steel in her gaze. “Checking on my favorite granddaughter, of course.” She turned to the onlookers, her voice authoritative. “Doesn’t anyone have work to do?”
The employees quickly returned to their tasks. Margaret hooked her arm through Anaya’s and led her towards the elevators.
“Let’s have lunch,” she said.
Anaya hesitated. “I have work—”
Margaret waved her off. “You work too hard for people who don’t deserve it. Come, humor an old woman.”
The rooftop restaurant overlooked the city, offering a stunning view of the skyline. As they settled into their seats, Margaret reached for Anaya’s hand.
“How long will you let them walk all over you?”
Anaya stiffened. “It’s not that simple, Grandma.”
Margaret scoffed. “Of course, it is. Your father has never treated you fairly, and Raquel… Well, she’s a spoiled brat. You’re the only one worthy of leading this company.”
Anaya’s heart clenched. “You’re the only one who believes that.”
Margaret’s eyes softened. “Then believe it for yourself, Anaya. You’re not just some sales rep. You’re a Hawthorn. And when the time comes, I’ll make sure you get what you deserve.”
Anaya wanted to believe her, but in a family where she was invisible, it felt impossible.
Margaret squeezed her hand. “Be patient, my dear. The tides will turn.”
Anaya could only hope she was right.
The afternoon sun cast a golden glow over the glass walls of Hawthorn Enterprises as Anaya skimmed through the email on her phone.
Subject: Urgent Task : Investor Suite Inspection
From: Richard Hawthorn
”Anaya, go to the Grand Regent Hotel and inspect the penthouse suite. Investors will be staying there tomorrow. Ensure everything is in perfect condition.”*
She sighed, of course, she was the one being sent on this errand. Raquel or any of the other executives could have done it, but no—her father only gave her tasks that made her seem like an assistant rather than his daughter.
Shaking off the bitterness, she grabbed her bag and headed out.
The Grand Regent Hotel stood tall in the heart of the city, its luxurious exterior gleaming under the setting sun. Anaya stepped out of the taxi, her heels clicking against the marble floor as she entered the grand lobby.
She walked up to the reception desk. “I’m here to inspect the investor suite. My name is Anaya Hawthorn.”
The receptionist checked the system and nodded. “Penthouse Suite 1802. Here’s the key card.”
Anaya took it and headed toward the elevator. As she rode up, she thought about Phillip, her fiancé. They had been engaged for almost a year, though their relationship had felt distant lately. He was always ‘busy,’ always avoiding deep conversations. She shook her head, I’ll talk to him later.
- Writer
