Not soft enough. Not white enough. Not clean-cut and compliant enough to smooth the edges of his ambition.
I wasn’t the kind of girl who made his place in society easier.
I was the reminder of where he came from.
The proof he didn’t belong.
He let Madeline mold that shame into manners, and never had to raise his voice to do it. She didn’t need slurs or slaps. Just raised brows, and loaded compliments.
So well-spoken.
So articulate.
So brave to wear her hair like that.
She’d never poured water on me to humiliate me. She didn’t have to. She poured expectations instead, steeped in disdain, dressed up in couture.
And he never stopped her.
He let her clip my wings and call it refinement.
He let her shave me down until I was palatable.
Until I was invisible.
Now, watching him smile at whatever she'd whispered, all I could think was… I used to chase that smile. Like it mattered. Like it would ever be mine.
Back then I believed perfection could buy love; that if I shone bright enough, no one would notice the cracks. Theillusion shattered now, throat cinched, ears burning, as I finally understood applause is just storm-noise once the lights come up.
Sterling’s hand curled around my wrist, not rough, not kind. Just final. He didn’t look back, and neither did I.
He wasn’t pulling me out of harm’s way.
He was removing the problem.
Quietly. Discreetly. Like a true Kingsley.
Because I’d become a threat to their image. A scandal, wrapped in flesh, and too much truth.
And still, not a single person said my name.
Not my father.
Not her.
Not anyone.
I didn’t cry. I didn’t speak. I let myself be led, like a secret escorted out the back door.
Because that's what I was.
A mistake in full view.
A girl who broke quietly enough for the world to ignore.
Sterling guided me away. One step. Two. The room didn’t pause. No one blinked. The world kept spinning, exactly as it always had.
And I? I walked.