Inheritance Redefined

Chapter Seven

A third boy, the older, sharp-jawed, and visibly irritated one from dinner that scoffed every time she said something stalked in from another hallway.

"You're late," he snapped, clearly not at Elias or Nico. His dark eyes landed on Elara.

He stared at her as if she was just another inconvenience he had to deal with.

Elias muttered under his breath, "Ignore Matteo. He's always like that."

Matteo. Elara tucked his name away.

---

The car ride was silent except for the low hum of the engine and Matteo muttering something under his breath about traffic. When they finally arrived at Viremont Academy, Elara's breath caught in her throat.

It looked like a castle fused with a museum, ivy-covered stone walls, towering columns, and marble stairs leading up to arched glass doors. Students in immaculate uniforms strolled past like models on a runway, most of them clearly older, more confident, already knowing who belonged where.

As they walked in, she felt eyes on her, lingering, whispering. Some hostile, others... wary.

"Elara, right?" someone asked halfway through her third class. Elara turned to see a girl her age with dark curls and a soft American accent. "I'm Olivia, you're new? You're in my World Politics class too."

"Um yeah, that's me."

"You don't know what Viremont is, do you." Olivia whispered, flipping open her math book. "Not just rich kids go here. It's like... heirs. Five families. Real powerful ones. The mafia. The underground. Tech empires. Everyone here is something."

"The five families?" Elara asked.

Olivia sighed, then, even softer than before, she started. "There's the Wei Empire. They control the internet like it's a puppet on a string. The Moreira Empire. They smile in suits while bleeding countries dry. The Vasiliev Empire. They don't rule with fear. They rule with knowledge - and that's far more permanent. The Drakos Empire. They don't walk into rooms. Rooms shift around them. Lastly, the Calviero Empire. They don't start fights. They finish bloodlines. Those are the families that rule this school and the world."

Elara blinked. "Are you... part of one of these families?"

Olivia laughed. "No, I'm a Cameron. My mom's a senator. I just got in because she gained some powerful allies over the years."

Something in Elara relaxed. Olivia was sweet, curious, easy to talk to. It helped.

---

Lunch was served in a glass-roofed courtyard. Olivia motioned Elara toward one of the smaller round tables. "Come on. Sit with me."

Elara had just taken her tray when a voice sliced through the air like a whip."You are the Calviero girl, right?"

A tall, sharp-featured, beautiful girl with a strawberry blonde hair tossed over her shoulder had approached the table with zero hesitation and sat down next to Elara. She walked like she owned the place.

Olivia blinked. "Wait... you're a Calviero?"

The girl snorted. "Obviously. Look at her. She's the only one who doesn't look terrified of the Elites. She only looks terrified because it's her first day. I'm Anastasia Vasiliev by the way. I have a feeling we're gonna be great friends." She directed that last sentence to Elara with a big smirk on her face.

Olivia's cheeks turned bright pink as she stood up with her tray in hand. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know, otherwise-"

"Please sit down," Elara said quickly, and Olivia did. Anastasia smirked and took the apple from Elara's tray.

"Don't worry, Elara," she said, taking a bite from the apple. "Everyone pretends not to care who's who. That is, until it's convenient." Then she stabbed a grape from Olivia's tray with a fork.

---

After school, Elara waited at the bottom of the steps with her backpack slung awkwardly over one shoulder. The car was late. She checked her phone again.

To the side, near the edge of the parking lot where the pavement met the training fields, stood a boy in a black Viremont hoodie, watching the football team practice. He was tall, broad-shouldered, blue-eyed and very handsome, Elara thought.

He glanced her way when she walked over and looked down at her skate bag in her hands. "You skate?" he asked, voice low and rough.

"Yeah." She smiled. "You?"

"Ice-Hockey."

A beat of silence.

Then he added, without looking at her again, "I'm Thiago."

"Elara."

His head tilted just slightly, enough to give her a second glance. Then a long black car pulled up beside them. The same car from that morning.

She smiled at him. "I'll see you around?"

Thiago shrugged like he didn't care, but Elara saw the corner of his mouth twitch.