Lucina Brown watched the city lights twinkle through the falling snow. She savored each sip of hot chocolate, nestled into her plush sofa in the penthouse apartment. It was time for her nightly ritual: diving into web novels.
One might assume she led a sorrowful life. After all, she was the secret, illegitimate child of the mayor.
That assumption couldn't be further from the truth.
The other half of her DNA,financed her luxurious life in exchange for her silence.
Her mother had been a small-town dreamer. She ventured into the city with aspirations of becoming a singer, only to fall victim to a rich man's deceit. He left her pregnant and heartbroken. A tale all too common.
Her mother's dreams shattered. She took on minimum wage jobs to provide for herself and her unborn child.
Life was simple, yet content for Lucina.
Until tragedy struck at age fifteen.
The cruel diagnosis: lung cancer. Her mother had no hope, no way to afford treatment. With no fighting chance, her final act was to leave Lucina a letter.
Morning came. Her mother was gone.
Lucina stood alone in the world with only memories and that poignant letter.
**
The small savings her mother had scraped together went to the funeral arrangements.
People filed in to offer condolences. Lucina overheard their whispered speculations about her future.
"A foster home," someone guessed.
"Maybe an orphanage," another suggested.
A few wondered if her absentee father would suddenly appear.
Suffocated, Lucina slipped outside the funeral home. She sought solace under the starless sky—a mirror of the emptiness inside her.
She reached for her mother's letter.
And there, in her mother's words, was the revelation:
Mayor John Brown was her father.
Well, damn.
*
She walked into the grand building with worn-out shoes and faded jeans. She made her way to the receptionist's desk.
"Excuse me. May I see Mayor Brown?" she asked, forcing confidence despite the receptionist's contemptuous gaze.
"Not just anyone can meet the mayor," the woman retorted. Her tight blonde ponytail matched her tightly wound demeanor. Lucina wondered how she breathed in that constricting black dress.
"Inform him that I'm Zira's daughter. Please."
With an audible sigh, the receptionist reluctantly made the call—probably expecting Lucina to be turned away.
To her surprise, she was let in.
"Let's go. I'll guide you to the office." The receptionist's brisk pace, even in those uncomfortable shoes, left Lucina struggling to keep up.
In the elevator, the woman impatiently tapped her leg. Lucina wondered what she saw in their reflections. A scrawny fifteen-year-old with unruly hair, practically homeless-looking. She must have been a far cry from the mayor's usual visitors.
Ding.
The elevator doors opened onto a world of suits, expensive perfumes, and unimaginable luxury.
Lucina was asked to wait. The receptionist spoke to the secretary outside the large office doors.
Eventually, she was led inside.
The door clicked softly shut behind her. A shiver ran down her spine.
"Take a seat," the man behind the desk ordered.
Lucina understood why her mother had been captivated by him. Sharp jawline. Blonde hair, even the gray streaks adding charm. Her mother always said her eyes came from her father. As Lucina met his gray, emotionless gaze, she saw the resemblance.
"You're Zira's daughter? I certainly see it." He leaned back in his chair. "To what do I owe the pleasure of Zira sending her offspring to see me?"
Lucina shifted uncomfortably. She gathered her courage.
"My mother is dead. And you're my father. So here I am."
The words hung heavy in the air. His surprise was subtle, but the silence stretched on forever.
"What do you want from me?" His tone was cold. Business-like.
Lucina glanced away. Her eyes fell on the picture frame on his desk. A perfect family: his wife, four sons, and two daughters smiling happily. There was no place for her there.
"Mr. Brown, I understand this is as much news to you as it is to me. I didn't know you existed until my mother revealed it on her deathbed." She steadied her voice.
"I want a deal."
"Money? Of course you do. What else?" His gaze turned icy.
Lucina wondered how her mother had ever loved this man.
"I want a deal. Yes, it involves money. But with my mother gone, I'll be left to foster care, an orphanage, or worse—the streets." She met his eyes.
"You wouldn't want the world to know about my existence, would you? Because I can assure you, Mr. Brown, tomorrow's headlines would scream: City Mayor's Illegitimate Child Left to Fend for Herself."
She had him cornered.
"The world of politics depends on reputation. If anything happens to me, Mr. Walker's team will uncover the truth about my origin. How I exist despite you being married with three kids back then." She watched his anger simmer.
"And we both know Mr. Walker would use that against you. Especially with his big school being your competition."
"What do you need?" He relented, defeated.
Lucina smiled brightly. "Well, Father, you surely wouldn't want to be stingy, would you?"
Checkmate.
***
That memory always brought a smile to her face. Acquiring this penthouse from Mr. Brown was a stroke of genius. A triumph for the younger her.
As the years passed, rent and housing prices soared. She had it all figured out.
After graduating from a prestigious boarding school abroad, she had no interest in university. Instead, she traveled to fancy places. Explored exotic cities and islands. Lived the life she had always dreamed of.
She sank into the couch, savored another sip of hot chocolate, and opened her sleek tablet to immerse herself in a web novel.
Life was truly good.
But wait.
What was that light?
It was so bright...