Alexandra’s Point of View

I hate him.

I absolutely, without a trace of a doubt, despise his unfortunate existence with a passion.

That miserable excuse for a billionaire should seriously consider my consistent suggestions of him seeing a psychiatrist, because he is clearly overreacting.

All I did was accidentally flush his project proposals down the toilet in a fit of anger. It wasn’t like I consciously knew what I was doing. My temper was raging inside of me, and I had no control. That should be perfectly understandable, seeing as that old geezer has an even worse temper than mine, and that’s really saying something. Normally, and this is more often than not, I am in total control over my emotions. Normally, I would not destroy his work without considering the possible implications otherwise, but I was in a terribly bad mood.

Complete with little storm clouds over my head.

Generally, my stepfather understands and releases me with a little warning, i.e. “YOU INSANE LITTLE (censored)! WHAT WHERE YOU THINKING? HOW COULD YOU (censored) EVEN (censored) DO SOMETHING LIKE THAT? (censored) (censored) (censored)!” And so forth.

But no. It seems like shouting profanities at me was not enough to ease his temper.

Instead, my repulsive cow of a stepfather decides to ship me off to boarding school, on the other side of the planet, where he thinks he can dispose me. I don’t see why he has to resort to such rash choices when I have been such a perfect little angel in all my seventeen years of living.

In the general sense.

So I’ve somehow made a few guidance counselors resign from their posts at school, and so I’ve been a little less than sociable around his business parties, where everyone present looks like they time traveled forward from the Middle Ages. What difference does that make? It is not like I have been setting fire to his precious Bentleys, or tearing up his Armani suits as if it were a national pastime, or even kicking his hideous, mangy cat for crying out loud!

Yet there I was, sitting upon my massive bed, packing a suitcase, readying myself for my departure.

“Alexandra?” his toad-like voice called. “Are you there, Alexandra?”

I turned glacial. “Of course I’m here you ugly—oh hello, stepfather.”

His handlebar moustache was not the best feature of his face. Nor were his squinty eyes, pudgy neck, crooked nose or greasy hair. To be perfectly blunt, my stepfather resembled a rather stout bull more than he did human. In other words, he was downright unsightly.

How he could have single handedly founded the currently most successful electronics company is beyond me.

“Alexandra,” he began, his double chin quivering with every syllable. “I have booked you a flight for tomorrow morning. You are quite lucky to have been accepted on such short notice, and at such a good time too. The school term does not begin until two days from now, so you shall be able to attend the first day of school, just like everyone else. I hope you understand why I have done this.”

I fought valiantly to stop myself from saying otherwise. “Of course, stepfather.”

“Good. You have been quite the nuisance around here, Alexandra, and it is time for you to grow up. The Imperial School for Exemplary Youth is a fine school. You needn’t worry about the standard of education, because I did a background check and it has the best exam records and future job records than any other school in the country. And in case you forgot,” he added with a rather throaty cough, “your two brothers attend as well.”

My eyebrows raised, surprised. I had forgotten. All of a sudden, the prospect of me leaving did not seem so awful.

Gabriel and Isaiah Kingsley, my two beloved elder twin brothers, otherwise known as the Destructive Duo.

Gosh, I can’t wait to leave now!

My stepfather, Reginald Petersburg, noticed my rather sudden smile and took a hesitant step backwards. “A-Are you feeling quite alright, Alexandra?”

I hastily hid my delight. “Yes, stepfather.”

He straightened his hideous overcoat with a grunt and nodded his head. “Good. That will be all.”

After my stepfather left, my wide grin reappeared upon my face. I can’t wait to see Gabe and Isaiah again! This will be fantastic. The Troublesome Three shall be reunited once again! I haven’t seen them since, since—

— Mom passed away.

I slouched, feeling extremely hollow inside. That was the reason why I was stuck with Reginald Petersburg in the first place. She had married him three months before that fateful morning, and surprisingly, were quite right for each other, despite their physical and financial differences. If it weren’t for that drunk driver, mom would still be… still be…

“Alive…” I whispered quietly to myself, brushing a solitary tear off my cheek.

I forced myself to smile. It had already been half a decade. There was no reason I should be dwelling in the past when there was so much to look forward to in the future. I should be happy. I am going to see Gabe and Isaiah again. Everything will be right as rain.

Hold on a minute.

If Gabe and Isaiah are at the Imperial School for Exemplary Youth, that means he will be there as well.

He, as in my once childhood friend, Damien Rose, repulsive cow number two.

Let us just say that I still have a score to settle with that skinny little twerp. Despite being the same age as my brothers, he was as frail and fragile as a porcelain doll, and that meant that I could easily pound him, given the opportunity. However, seeing as I have attended two years of etiquette school, courtesy of repulsive cow number one, I will refrain from my animalistic urges and settle it with class, because obviously that is something that I have, and he doesn’t.

I can’t believe that I was best friends with that creep, before he decided to turn his back on me and ignore me for eternity.

I just remembered. Gabe and Isaiah are best friends with that creep too. Except their friendship is still intact. Darn.

It isn’t easy being in the crossfire between two heated oppositions.

Especially when one of them is your best friend and the other is your biological sister.

I snapped out of my momentary reverie and sighed at the sight of all my belongings strewn over the floor. I picked up a grey sweater and threw it carelessly into the suitcase. Packing is such a tedious chore. I may have been raised within a wealthy environment, but I wasn’t spoilt to make others do tasks I didn’t want to do. Those poor servants of my miserable stepfather have enough on their hands, like tending to an oversized bull of a man.

No exaggeration there.

I sniggered slightly to myself and went back to the tiresome task at hand, the memories of my brothers and I drifting back into my mind.

___

A/N: And that concludes the first chapter of my second story! I know not much happened, but I just want to develop it slowly, like I did with TT. Heh.

Is it alright? Well, I hope it is. Do review!

Disclaimer: I do not own and I am not affiliated in any way with Bentley or Armani. I just borrowed their names for usage in this chapter.

Claimer: All names, the plot, characters etc. belong to me. No plagiarism! Obviously, I made the name of the school up, so that belongs to me. If it bears resemblance to any real school anywhere, it is purely coincidental.