Black pearl

My mother had left first and left me in the hands of four strangers.

They strip me, bathe me, scrubbing my skin until it becomes red, and then they put in a white chiffon dress that falls just below my knees.

I look into the mirror before me, and I don’t recognise myself. My mahogany eyes, coated with light mascara stand out with the gold accents on my lids, but making my eyes abnormally large. I recognise a red Velour lipstick being used from Bonnie’s mother’s cosmetic brand that gives me a gradient, bleeding effect on my lips.

I am way too pale, and the overwhelming amount of rosy blush on me is unnatural. This prim and rosy look does not suit the darkened expression and scowl I’m holding right now.

I blow away a stray curl away from my face, and place my hands on my hip. “Are we done yet?” I ask.

I can feel them internally rolling their eyes at me even though I didn’t mean to be rude. They must think I’m so stuck for up and ungrateful for not being satisfied with a one eighty makeover that many girls would die for.

But all I can feel is the pain that strikes in the soles of my feet with every step I take with these glass-like high-heels.

They finally lead me out of the room, and I take in the large staircase before my eyes in what seems to be the ‘ball room’, winding around, leading up to the second floor that have golden railings on top, overlooking the whole hall, acting like a stage of some sorts.

But instead of heading upstairs to satisfy my curiosity, I am led deeper into the mansion. It becomes much darker and the golden theme, stemmed from the golden linings, golden railings and golden chandeliers, descends into a more red and black, vamp vibe.

The walls are now lined with very antique and even horror-themed paintings, such as of a faceless girl holding a rose. I can’t help the shiver that runs through my spine as we tread past it.

I’m escorted into a large room with red velvet carpet and a large dark wooden dinner table in the center.

My eyes go immediately to my mother who is seated next to an empty seat that I presume is for me. The butler pulls out the chair and I take a seat, my eyes warily scanning the new faces before me.

Klaus Mikailov sits at the head of the table.

His presence is undeniably vast and grand. How he holds himself and how he overlooks the whole table is like he’s sitting on a throne. Almost like a dictator, his authoritativeness is prominent and intimidating.

My first impression of him can be described as an unnerving experience.

This also applies to his son, Ivam Mikailov who sits before me with a strange and almost sinister like smirk on his face as he too accesses me with his piercing blue eyes, almost like he is objectifying me, tearing me apart with those icy boring orbs. His features are sharp, his cheekbones high and his lips thin and white.

He is a spitting image of his father, with the same platinum blonde hair that it nearly looks like white snow under the crystal chandelier above us.

Klaus too looks at me with an analytical expression. He wears a red robe like outerwear over his shiny, batiste, white shirt. He narrows his deep set eyes at me. Even though he seems to be in his forties, there is not much that gives it away except for the slight crinkles in the corner of his eyes.

“Finally.” I look to the source of the low and raspy voice of Irisa Mikailov. She seems to be the black sheep of the family. Literally. Instead of the genetically inherited platinum blonde hair, Ivy has jet black hair instead, even darker than mine. But her sharp features, pointed nose and thin but shapely lips are undeniable of her Mikailov descent.

“Look who decided to show up,” Irisa sneers.

I recall Blair’s description of her ‘wild’ and rebellious depiction. I pictured then, a nasally, high-pitched blonde with artificial nails and an obnoxiously loud personality. But what I see is completely opposite as Irisa looks absolutely elegant with a thin but tall figure, her black nightgown hugging her shapely figure gracefully.

However, she does not make any attempts to hide her exuding hatred towards me and this is only our first encounter.

“Be nice to our guest,” Klaus patronises cooly, his words coming out as crushing waves. I can see her gulp, and then shoot me a glare before bringing her wine glass to her dark red lips, nearly the same colour as the liquid, trying to conceal the twinge of embarrassment and chagrin that passes her sharp features.

I see my mother angling her body slightly towards her husband. Her hair is now up in an elegant bun with a stray curl to frame her small-heart shaped face. “She is not our guest, darling. She is family now is she not?”

Klaus does not even spare a look at her but his eyes are on me as he too takes a sip of his wine glass. “What are you studying at Sevit High, may I ask?”

I can feel my mother’s boring gaze on me, desperate for me to say the right things like if I mess up, there would be consequences.

I clear my throat. “I’m taking on Law related subjects. I want to go to law school.”

I can see Ivan smirking as I say this and my eyes snap to him. He chuckles in response, the sound making the hairs on my arm rise. “It is going to be difficult being family, when my sister is this smart and beautiful.”

I can feel even my toes cringe at his inappropriate comment, and I clench my fists.

“Ivan!” My mother hisses, but one look at Klaus and she becomes obediently silent once again.

“I’m just joking,” Ivan laughs, his blue eyes glinting like a knife’s. My stomach twists and turns at the crazed look in his eyes that contradict his formal and calm front.

There are so many police cases I hear of about psychopaths who kill and don’t feel anything. I’d see their eyes on the news holding the same kind of emptiness but underlying amusement in seeing their victims in uncomfortable situations, and even when they describe how they killed their victims.

Ivan reminds me of them, and I cannot shake this uncomfortable feeling away.

Klaus nods coldly and cocks his head to the side slightly at me, not even bothering to excuse his son. “You want to be a lawyer?”

Just then, a maid comes in to place a silver tray of roasted port on the table, and then many begin to come in to place other various platters. I look at the overwhelming amount of food on the table and I begin to salivate. In my head, I try to work out how much this could all cost and how much the family would have to starve back at home for us to replicate such a meal.

I am about to reach out to grab a bite, but I feel my mother violently jabbing me in the ribs, right on my bruise that I copped from the men that attacked me, still purple and blue the last time I checked it.

I can only wince and quickly retract my hand as she begins to reach out and serve Klaus the first piece. “Sorry, Arden lacks the proper table manners. I will do my best to teach her.”

I can only furrow my brows in confusion at their strange exchange and husband-wife dynamic. It seems more like Klaus is the master and my mother is his servant rather than a husband and wife relationship.

Klaus shakes his head dismissively. “She is new here. It will take time to adjust.” He eats the food my mother had just personally put on his plate, and I see Ivan and Irisa begin to put food into their own plates.

“I-I wish to work in the legal field, yes” I say. Even though it seems I am allowed to eat now, I don’t dare to do so still.

Klaus takes a while to finish chewing before nodding and looking to me again with almost boredom in his cold and empty eyes. “You’re a scholarship student at Sevit High?”

I am beginning to grow sick and tired of this interrogation that none of us seem to be excited about except for my mother of course, who speaks up before I can answer. “She shouldn’t have to be anymore. As part of the Mikailov family now, she shouldn’t be associated with such things.”

I whip my head to her with a piercing glare.

I have never been more proud of myself than in this moment right now, when someone like my mother had miminismed my achievement, that I realise how big of a feat it really is.

No matter how much I have complained about my status in the past at Sevit High, I have followed my brother’s footsteps and have earned my full right to be in that school all through my hard work and dedication.

It was something almost symbolic for me. It was like I was following my brother’s legacy.

“You have no idea how ruthless those kids can be,” My mother pleads to Klaus. “How they tore her brother apart and how they can tear Arden down with their money.”

My blood boils at her mentioning of Joon. I hate that his name has passed through her lips in front of strangers who do not know him or of the wonderful legacy he had left behind.

“So she’s here for our money then,” Irisa says, scoffing at me. “She’s here to pick up our trash.”

Ivan’s smirk widens, as his eyes light up in amusement at the situation. “My dear sister, you must be jealous,” He says to Irisa whilst cutting into his steak, with the meat too rare and bleeding on his plate.

“Jealous of who?” Ivy growls. “Of this money-leeching bitch here-”

A slam on the table shakes the whole room as we all go silent immediately. My heart still thumps from the impact as we all look to Klaus who holds a venomous look in his eyes, his nostrils flared in rage.

“There are a couple of rules we have in this house, Arden,” He starts, his voice low and sends a chill down my spine, similar to how that picture with the faceless girl had done to me. “I do not tolerate lowly people with no manners. Those who do not know how to behave should not have the luxury of being under this household.”

He shoots Irisa a deadly look and she seems to shrink back in her seat. “I’m sorry for that Arden. You are welcome here. But the doors of the West wing are locked, and they stay locked. You are not permitted there under any circumstances.” He addresses this to me and I nod hesitantly.

“Your mother has told me how intelligent you are and going into Sevit without any backing is a huge feat. At this point in time… You are no longer on a scholarship. You are completely supported by our name.”

I look down, finding it difficult to process his words.

How is it that easy?

My intuition wouldn't let me feel at ease.

“I’m grateful for the offer but… I don’t feel comfortable accepting this-”

“Don’t be ridiculous Arden!” My mother interrupts heatedly. She turns to Klaus, and plasters on a smile. “Arden is a very hard-worker. She will not disappoint you.”

By now, I can no longer stand my mother speaking on behalf of me anymore, and so I stand up, with my chair screeching on the tiles.

I take a fistfull of my white dress, wanting to rip the thing off. “I am not your shiny little toy mother,” I say through gritted teeth.

I see Ivan trying to suppress laughter and I want to smack the smirk off his face more than anything.

I don’t understand what he is so amused about.

“I am sorry Klaus,” I now address him, who does not seem to be fazed by my abrupt and reckless actions. “My mother seems to think I need your money but I don’t. I have made it without her for years now and I’m only here to forge a relationship with my sister.”

Now that I have mentioned so, I look around wondering where the hell she is. I also begin to question whether my mother’s claims of me having a sister was just a ploy to bring me here.

I can feel my mother burning me with her eyes, but I don’t acknowledge her. Klaus however this time, chooses to ignore me and turns to face his wife.

“She can stay for two weeks before I announce her as family to the ball. By then, you must teach her all the formalities,” His eyes slowly hover to me, “or unfortunately, she is not welcome here.”

With that, he too stands up and I now only realise how tall he is, which adds to his intimidating exterior. He takes his leave with maids trailing behind him, and my mother pulls me back down to my seat, harshly.

“What did you think you were doing!” She hisses, with her grip still on my arm. “Do you really want to ruin this for yourself!”

“I never asked for this,” I keep saying.

“Don’t worry, step-mother,” We both look to Ivan who still has a smirk playing on his lips like he knows something we don’t. “I’d say that was a good first impression if he’s decided to give your daughter a chance.”

My mother’s face hardens, but she tries to quirk her lips up to form a small and tight smile. “You think so, Ivan?”

He stifles a chuckle and then turns to me. “But I’d be careful if I were you. He likes it when you’re just about to cross the line, when your feet touch the line but as soon as you cross it, you are done for.” He gestures to Irisa beside him, who also looks at him with a burning hatred.

“Take Irisa for example, when she drove that car drunk off her ass into her ex-boyfriend’s house, her shares were cut into half, and she got dragged back from New York like a stray dog back under our roof as a prisoner,” He sneers at her. “Don’t end up like my dear sister here.”

Irisa shoots up from her seat, her hands inches away from striking Sebastian in his smug face. He only cocks his head teasingly at her and crosses his arms. “I wouldn't do that if I were you,” He coos.

The tension is unfathomable as the two siblings stare each other down, both fighting for the upper hand, but it is clear that Sebastian holds the power over her.

Irisa’s face twitches uncomfortably, like she’s using everything she’s got to not completely end him. “You’re the fucking demon, Ican. Go to hell.”

She turns her heels and stalks off, leaving a full plate of food, untouched. Her black night dress, flowing as she strides off into some part of the mansion I have not yet seen.

“Don’t mind her, she’s just pissed that she’s no longer the favourite child.” Ivan also stands up, he too stands tall and towers above us. “I look forward to having you in our home. It is quite difficult taking my eyes off you, love.”

It takes me a while for me to realise he’s addressing me, and I don’t dare look into his eyes anymore. He evokes an overwhelming sense of discomfort and all I want to do is run the away when I see him.

“Don’t call me that,” I hiss back. My mother grips my wrist tightly and hauls me with her.

“I bid you goodnight Ivan.” She seems to drag me behind her, shielding me from his dark and hungry gaze. I wonder if she notices his unnerving and confounding ambience.

“Let’s go.”

We begin to head upstairs to the winding staircase I saw before. I stumble whilst trailing behind her, barely handling the pain from the god-awful heels I’m still wearing.

She hauls me into a bedroom with a king sized bed, a big vanity table full of Korean skincare and makeup products which I can only assume is my mother’s. The cream carpet is soft, and even my heels seem to sink into the ground, easing my pain just a bit.

She plops me down on the bed and sits beside me with a grave expression painted on her face, her wrinkles accentuated under the dim yellow toned lights in the room.

“I don’t know what you were thinking of doing back there, but Klaus seems to recognise something in you for him to give you a chance like this.”

I scoff, and cross my arms defiantly. “Who is he to give me a chance when I never asked for it?”

“Arden. There are rules in this house okay? Additional rules to the ones that Klaus told you of, so you can consider these my rules.”

She holds up her pointer finger. “One. You cannot act like you’re at your father’s house and swear every five seconds, Klaus appraises manners and loyalty as extremely important. Don’t do anything to get on his bad side.”

I roll my eyes. “I don’t plan to,” I mutter.

“Two.” She looks at me sternly, ignoring my comment. “Do not get on his son’s bad side. He is the heir to the company, and will begin to call the shots when Klaus retires. He is the future YMG company.”

“Three. You will work for Klaus, and therefore also for his son who will soon become CEO.”

“What? That was never said,” I spit. “I’m not working for that fucking psychopath!”

“Arden, I know you’re not dumb. You know how big of a deal this is!” She reaches out to grab my shoulders again, but I roughly shake off her grip before she can clutch onto me too tightly again. I am sick of her desperate attempts of having my attention and forcing me to become something I’m not.

“Don’t touch me,” I hiss. She recoils her hands at this and slightly wince at my intensity, her eyes wavering, and her mouth agape.

She is taken aback at this and I take this opportunity to set things straight.

“You can’t turn me into something I’m not. I was born poor, I grew up poor and I went to Sevit High, still fucking poor!” I am yelling by now, and I can see my spit flying all over the place like a fountain.

“Just because my mother is rich now, doesn’t make me rich. It doesn’t work like that. You can’t just waltz back into my life and make me your shiny pearl again for your own gain. I’m not here for you, because you were never there for me!” I shoot up and am about to leave when the door opens first and I look down to the small girl before me.

She rubs her brown doe eyes sleepily, her short platinum blonde hair sticking in kinds of directions. I take in this girl before me who seems to be maybe six to eight years old. I immediately recognise her even though her platinum hair is clearly from Mikailov’s blood, the rounded tip of her nose and soft, delicate facial features fall under my side of the family. Her dark but shiny eyes give away our prominent genetic relation.

“Rosie, dear…” My mother’s voice becomes gentle again, bringing me back to my childhood to when she would use that tone with Joon and I.

I watch her as she goes to this girl to embrace her. She seems much shorter than the average height.

She's so small

And it was like I was watching my mother from years ago, hugging my past self. It was like I was her and I can see my mother’s warm smile again and smell her sweet scents and feel her soft touch on my cheek.

“I’m hungry. Why couldn’t I come to eat dinner with you and father” Her voice is small and high-pitched.

My mother crouches down to smooth out her matted hair. “I’ll tell Eleanor to cook you something up.” She stands up again and turns to me.

“Please look after her until I come back.” She’s avoiding my eyes, like she had just been caught doing something wrong.

She takes Rosie’s hands and leads her to me. “This is Arden. She’s your sister. Wait with her and I will be back.”

My mother doesn’t even give me an explanation or even an introduction of some sorts to my sister. It seems like she wants to avoid directly acknowledging us as sisters, because that would mean directly admitting to her leaving me to have this other child here.

She leaves and I’m left standing awkwardly in front of this little girl.

I was never really great with kids. I grew up as the youngest so I only knew how to be annoying and irritating to my elder brother. I never learnt how to handle someone like me. I didn’t have to. There are too many times where I’d scare the living daylights out of a baby just by looking at it. Their cries and wailing only gave me headaches, and I’d just rather not deal with children when I’m basically still a child myself.

“Are you really my sister?” My eyes snap down to Rosie, who holds a glint of curiosity in her eyes. She gazes up at me with such large eyes that I can’t help but feel a little intimidated by them.

I unconsciously take a step back just as she edges closer to me. “Yeah, it would seem so,” I hesitantly say.

Her smile widens. "I've always wanted to meet you ever since mother told me about you... Will you play with me? I’m Rosella but you can call me Rose.” I take a few steps back before falling onto the bed. She sits beside me on the bed and I hesitantly move away a bit.

"Do you feel weird?" She asks me abruptly, swinging her legs back and forth with downcast eyes.

"A bit..." I admit.

Not once did I think I’d ever stop being the youngest in the family. I was always the smallest, the most protected and the most vulnerable. I never thought to think of having to protect someone myself.

“What’s your name again?” She asks, with her short and stubby legs swinging playfully on the edge of the bed.

“I’m Arden.”

She brings a hand to her chin, like she’s thinking hard, her eyes fleeting up and down in thought. “What a funny name! It’s so weird.”

“It’s not really!” I say defensively. “Arden is short for ardent, meaning passion or glowing.”

“Wow, you’re so smart!” She cooes. I can’t help but feel a bit satisfied at her response. I can’t help but feed into the admiration in her eyes as she peers up at me with such a sweet and lovely smile.

“I also have a Korean name, Haru. It means day, by day when you said Haru, Haru.” I don’t know why I’m telling her this, but I’m kind of glad that she isn’t crying or screaming for help yet like most kids do upon meeting me.

"I don't think I have a a Korean name... ” She frowns.

Suddenly, a voice can be heard outside of the room. Even though the voice doesn’t seem to close to the door, I can still recognise it to be Klaus’

I gasp in surprise as Rose collapses down on the bed and ducks behind me, nestling her face into the back of my skirt.

“What are you-”

“Are the bags here yet?” I freeze upon hearing his voice.

“No, sir. There seems to be a problem with the system. I think we got hacked.”

I suck in a breath as loud smack can be heard. Rose begins to whimper and I unconsciously wrap my arms around her small and trembling body.

“I did not pay you this much for you to do a shitty job, you bastard.”

“I’m sorry, Sir. I’ll have it fixed by tomorrow.”

“You better.”

I can only release my breath when I hear their footsteps fading away. But Rose is still shaking under my hold.

“Hey, hey…” I whisper. “Look at me.”

She hesitantly raises her head, with tears streaming down her rosy cheeks. “Was that your father?” She nods meekly. “Are you scared of him?”

She nods again and I release a shaky breath. “What about Ivan and Irisa? How do they treat you?”

“Irisa is mean and won’t play with me or take me to plaves. Ivan gives me toys and jewllery sometimes, but…” Her eyes trail off, and she doesn’t seem to be aware of her surroundings anymore.

“But what?” I prompt.

“I think I saw him make someone bleed a lot once.”

___

Ooooo... What do you think of our newly introduced characters?

I personally love Rosie so much (But I could be biased >.<)

Let me know what you think of this chapter.

It's inspired by one of my favourite kpop solo artist SUNMI's song: Black Pearl

I'm dirty and in pain

I'm wrapping around myself

So this ugly, black light

Won’t come seeping out

I may seem like a brand new, white gem

But you don’t even know what’s inside