Authors pov

The room looked like the aftermath of a paper hurricane. Crumpled sheets-handwritten notes scrawled in her neat but hurried script-were scattered across the floor, as though a storm had swept through. Books lay wide open on the bed, their pages still marked with ink and highlighter.

Ashleen stood in the doorway, sighing at the sight. She had only come to call her daughter down for breakfast, but instead, she found herself surveying chaos. The sound of running water drifted from the washroom, and with another sigh, she bent to start gathering the papers, one by one, stuffing them into the dustbin.

"This girl..." she muttered under her breath, shaking her head. "She's literally a study maniac."

Her hands moved automatically, shutting books and stacking them neatly before sliding them back into the already over stuffed bookshelf. Every inch of it is lined with dermatology books......evidence of Angelina's obsession.

The click of the bathroom door made Ashleen turn.

"Lina," she started, her voice a blend of frustration and affection. "Your exams ended only two days ago, and you've already buried yourself in more study. I might be the first mother in history to say this, but you need to take it easy. God knows where you got this bookworm tendency from. I was never like this at your age-in fact, I used to get annoyed when anyone even mentioned studies."

Ashleen kept rambling, though her tone softened when she saw her daughter's playful shrug. Angelina's hazel eyes glimmered like honey caught in sunlight, warm and teasing.

"Maybe it was Dad who was like that," she joked lightly, and disappeared Inside the wardrobe to dress.

Ashleen only huffed in reply, a silent acknowledgement as she headed for the door. "Come down for breakfast. We're all waiting," she called before leaving the room.

Minutes later, Angelina came out in her usual attire-jeans and a simple top. She towel-dried her long hair, unwilling to use a blow-dryer that always left her with headaches. After slipping on her glasses, she paused in front of the mirror.

She isn't the type of girl people noticed for her beauty, and she knew it. In class, she is only acknowledged when someone needed her notes. A typical nerd. But she didn't mind-not really. She had no intention of luring a rich man with looks; her path is carved in ambition.

She wanted respect. Recognition. Something more than being known as the daughter of the personal bodyguard of Devillian Giordano.

It is her dream to become the best dermatologist in the country.

Maybe the reason she had never been bullied in school or college is because everyone knows with whom her family has connections with. Any other nerd might have been easy prey.

One last look at her reflection, and she squared her shoulders, then she headed downstairs.

Luca stared down at the spoonful of soup in his hands, steam curling into his face. He flicked his gaze toward Ashleen, who was watching him with eyes full of excitement and hope. She was practically bouncing in her seat, waiting for him to taste it.

He forced a nervous smile, trying to appear casual.

Ashleen widened her eyes in a playful gesture, urging him to hurry up.

Just then, Angelina walked into the dining room and slipped into her chair.

"Good morning, Mummy. Good morning, Daddy."

"Good morning, sugar pie," Ashleen replied warmly.

"Good morning," Luca echoed, still holding the bowl like it is a weapon aimed at him.

Angelina reached for the same bowl of soup in front of her father, but Ashleen stopped her with a sharp shake of her head.

"No, sweetheart. Your breakfast is over there-I already made your plate. This one's for your daddy."

Angelina arched a brow, puzzled, but obediently took her own plate. She glanced at her father, who looked utterly helpless. What was the big deal if she tasted it first?

"But, Mummy... what's wrong with the soup?"

Ashleen gave her a look as if the answer were obvious.

"I made this especially for your daddy today."

That was all it took for Angelina's eyes to widen in realization. Oh, no. The soup. Of course. Her mother is a terrible cook-famous for disasters that hurt either the kitchen or the stomach. That's why they have a cook in the first place. But today, clearly, her mother had decided to show her love for her father through culinary torture.

Angelina glanced at her father, who looked like a man about to walk into battle. She gave him a tiny smile that said it all: Good luck, Daddy.

"Come on, Luca," Ashleen urged impatiently. "Eat it and tell me how it is."

With no way out, Luca shoved the spoonful of soup into his mouth. His ears instantly turned red from the overwhelming chili, but he managed to twist his face into something resembling a smile.

"Wow... you're amazing, as always," he forced out between clenched teeth. "I love it."

To prove his words, he took another spoonful, even as his eyes watered.

Ashleen beamed and hugged him tightly.

"Oh, Luca, you're so sweet."

Over her shoulder, Luca's reddened eyes met Angelina's. He gave her a triumphant look, as if he'd just survived a war and claimed victory. Angelina pressed her lips together, stifling a laugh.

This is normal in her home- her father is an obedient cat before her mother.

Angelina returned to her food, chewing slowly and carefully. Eating always took her longer than most; her braces made her extra cautious so she wouldn't hurt her teeth.

When Ashleen finally released him from her hug, Luca smoothed her hair back.

"Darling, I have to go now. But... you should save some of this soup for tonight, hmm?" His tone was gentle, coaxing, sweet.

Ashleen nodded happily.

"Bye, sugar pie," Luca said to Angelina before leaving.

"Bye, Daddy," she smiled back.

Luca was off to his office. He had built his own business after marrying Ashleen, with Devillian's influence helping it grow. Now their companies are in partnership.

Finishing her breakfast, Angelina grabbed her bag.

"Lina," Ashleen called. "Selene called me this morning. She wants to meet you. See her on your way back home."

Angelina checked her phone, noticing Selene's missed calls-three from last night, two that morning. She had switched it off, as always, while studying. No wonder her friend had called her mother instead.

"Okay, Mummy. Bye."

She leaned in, gave her mother a quick hug, and headed out the door.

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Angelina's POV

I reached the university, keeping my gaze low as I walked through the corridor. It isn't shyness-it is a habit. People often mistook it for arrogance, said I am rude. But that is n't true. I greeted anyone who greeted me; I just didn't waste words where they aren't needed.

"Look, the brace queen has arrived."

"Brace queen with double batteries."

"She looks like such a freak."

"Shh! Don't forget-her father has Giordano connections."

"I can't help it, I feel eeks whenever I see her."

Their whispers are sharp enough to pierce through the air. I heard every word. I always did. It had been this way my whole life. At first, the whispers used to cut, but eventually... they became background noise. Now, I barely flinched.

I didn't really have friends here-just acquaintances, classmates I exchanged polite nods with. To be honest, I didn't mind.

At the cabin, I signed the attendance sheet before Dr. Giorgia spoke.

"Angelina, there's a vitiligo patient today. You'll look after her and make sure to write a full report of every procedure."

I nodded respectfully and left.

Inside the patient's room, I found a young woman sitting nervously. Offering her a gentle smile, I pulled up a stool beside her.

"I'm Angelina. I hope you'll be comfortable with me."

She gave me a weak smile.

"Please... just do something. This disease is terrifying me. My fiancé said if I don't cure it in a month, he'll leave me. I can't live without him. Please, Miss Angelina, help me."

Her voice trembled with desperation, fear dripping from every syllable. My smile dimmed.

"Was it arranged?" I asked softly.

She shook her head.

"No. It's love."

I felt my chest tighten. Love? Was this what love looked like now-threats and conditions?

Sighing, I asked, "What's your name?"

"Khoya," she whispered.

I took her hands gently, squeezing them.

"Khoya... your vitiligo can be treated, and I'll do everything I can for you. I promise."

Her eyes lit with relief, but before she could say more, I continued.

"But I want you to hear something else, too."

She nodded, hanging on to my words.

"He doesn't love you," I said softly but firmly.

Her brows furrowed.

"Think about it. If he truly loved you, your appearance wouldn't matter. What if the roles were reversed? Would you leave him for the same reason? No, right? Yet he threatened to leave you without hesitation. Tell me, is that love? Imagine the future-when you grow older, when wrinkles come. Will he lose interest again? Will you chase cosmetic surgeries just to keep him?"

Khoya's eyes filled with tears, her sobs breaking free as she stared down at her lap.

I cupped her face gently.

"Khoya... now tell me. Are you doing this treatment for yourself, or for a man who only values your looks?"

She broke then, crying harder, and threw her arms around me. I held her close, rubbing her back, my own eyes are teary.

Finally, she pulled away, wiping her tears.

"I... I'm doing this for myself."

I smiled through my own damp lashes, brushing away her tears with my thumb.

"That's better. Now, no more crying. Let me explain the procedure to you."

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I walked out of the university, after talking to khoya i have attended the monthly seminar.

It had gone well-better than I expected. Listening to the city's most reputed surgeons never failed to inspire me. I clung to every single word they said, unlike some of the students around me who were practically dozing off. Their indifference irritated me. If you don't have the passion, why choose this field at all? I only hoped the doctors hadn't noticed them-it would've felt so disrespectful.

Sliding into my car, the one Dad gifted me on my 18th birthday, I felt that familiar warmth. It wasn't as flashy as the Porsches and Audi parked inside the Giordano mansion's garage, but to me, it is a treasure. Worn out or not, it was mine.

As the gates of the mansion opened, I parked my car and headed inside. The maids greeted me with polite smiles, and I returned them softly before climbing upstairs toward Selene's room.

That's when it happened-someone grabbed my wrist and yanked me into a room. A hand clamped over my mouth before I could scream. My muffled protest died in my throat when I locked eyes with a pair of electric blue ones. Deniz.

The second he let go, I smacked his shoulder.

"What the hell, Den? You scared me!"

Instead of apologizing, he only smirked, already reaching for his guitar.

"Wow. Instead of saying sorry, you're scolding me? Just wow, Angy."

My jaw dropped. Oh. That's what this was about.

I walked over and sat beside him as he pretended to focus on his guitar strings.

"You don't look good when you sulk like that, you know. I'm sure your fangirls wouldn't want to see you pouting."

Nothing. Not even a glance. I sighed.

"Fine, Den. It was my fault. I couldn't make it to your concert that day, but you know I had exams. And I don't compromise when it comes to studying. It was the first time I missed one of your concerts, ever. Please forgive me."

I pouted, because I knew it always worked. Sure enough, he finally looked at me.

"You really know how to get your way, don't you?"

I grinned and threw my arms around him, and he hugged me back. Deniz isn't just a friend-he is one of the only two people I trusted completely, him and Selene. Since childhood, he has been protective of me. In school, no one ever dared to tease me when he was around. With him, I was always comfortable, always myself.

"I'll give you a private live performance now," he said with a crooked smile, adjusting his guitar.

Just then, my phone rang. Selene.

"Well, your sister's waiting for me. I'll catch up with her, then you can give me your grand show."

I gave him a teasing salute, but he reached out and pinched my nose-knowing how much I hated it.

"Consider yourself lucky you get to see such a handsome hunk every day."

I slapped his hand away, sticking my tongue out at him.

"You look more like a monkey," I shot back before darting out of the room.

I saw Selene's door slightly ajar. She is still calling me, her back is facing the entrance. I could feel her frustration radiating through the air as her calls went unanswered. Smiling to myself, I tiptoed quietly and covered her eyes from behind.

Selene huffed, as if she already knew it was me. She removed my hands and turned around, giving me her classic skeptical look.

"So, the Queen Victoria finally decided to grace me with her presence. Wow. How utterly delightful I am."

She clasped her hands together and feigned awe.

I gave her my best puppy eyes.

"I was planning to visit you anyway... today itself."

Her brow arched in disbelief.

"You better be. Otherwise, I'd have hired a stalker just to haunt you as revenge."

I burst out laughing, and after a moment, she couldn't hold back her own smile.

"I actually have something to share with you."

She made me sit on her bed while she stood in front of me as though about to deliver a royal announcement.

"I-Selene Giordano-have officially earned the title of Principal Ballerina. Finally."

Her eyes closed, as though she were reliving that triumphant moment again.

I grinned so wide my cheeks hurt and leapt to my feet, hugging her tightly.

"I'm so happy for you! You deserve it, Selene."

She hugged me back and soon we are both jumping around like little girls. To the rest of the world, Selene might be an arrogant, sharp-tongued mean girl-but to me, she is an amazing friend. We were polar opposites, but whenever we are together, time just slipped away.

Her phone rang.

She immediately broke the hug and picked up the call, while I sank back onto her bed. My eyes drifted to her ballerina costume hanging nearby.

I got up and absentmindedly ran my fingers along it.

"I miss you so much. I've been waiting for your call..." Selene's voice had softened into a pout.

I glanced at her but quickly looked away, not wanting to intrude.

"It's been so many years since you left... even Mum misses you so much. Dad's asked you to come back so many times... What? You're coming back? Oh my God, really?! Yes! I'm going to tell everyone. They'll all be so happy Demir bro."

I froze where I stood. That name. After so many years... hearing it again make flinch internally.

So this is the chapter. State your thoughts on this chapter.