The White Stag

Unseen Secrets

Authors note: Hello lovelies!! I know, I know, It's been awhile since I did a big update but school has had me swamped. I am soo close to 100 fans and I am beyond thrilled! <3 Thank you all so so much for supporting me and I hope you enjoy. 

Go check out this chapter's dedication, my best friend c: Her name is Rina and she's amazing. Check out her book and show her the love and recognition that she deserves

~ D.O.V  <3

~Georgina's point of view~

          Do you know those days that just don't seem to work out from the minute you wake up? I'm having one of those days. Nothing has worked out in my favor today, starting with the news that received during my morning tea. I noticed that Marcey was oddly silent. Normally she is very loud and opinionated. Sometimes she can be a bit rude and prone to derogatory comments so her silence is odd and almost foreboding. I wouldn't dare fire her. She's been caring for me since I was a little girl and she's kept me sane all these years. I swear that she puts seditive in my tea. She has a way of tolerating me and keeping me under control. She's my only friend in the world that knows me and sticks around anyway. I know I'm a bitch but that's what ambition can do to people.

            When I was young I was a much sought after model; a vision of flawless perfection. Beauty is a gift and a curse for someone in the modeling world. It is wonderful to have it but difficult to keep it. I once wanted to start my own modeling angency from the ground up but once I met a dashing young doctor and wound up pregnant things changed. I left my daughter in the care of Marcey as I tried to save my dying dreams. I managed to start a business, even sign with a few promising models. Before my business had a chance to be noticed, I lost everything when all of my finest models were stolen from me by another agency and my building was repossessed.

         I was born to a wealthy family and I was the last of seven children. I was the precious baby girl of the family and I was raised in a sheltered environment. We had four maids, three cooks, two butlers, one nanny....and a partridge in a pair tree. Everyone would dance to the tune I sang. I was nurtured by my older sisters and taught proper decorum. I soon learned that my biggest fear should be the decline of the aristocracy. My parents were firm believers in the principal of children being seen but not heard. They were so preoccupied with their jobs so I was raised by my sisters once I hit my teenage years. I felt that it was better that way. My parent's jobs were important. Their jobs were the legs on which we stood and we would spend the rest of our lives crushing anyone we needed to in order to climb higher and keep going until we couldn't see those that weren't worth our time. 

          Although my sisters raised me, we always competed with each other. It was a constant game of 'my horse is bigger than your horse'. We competed with each other for our mother and father's favor, the best beaus, the best gowns, grades, and friendships. I grew up in full awareness that my sisters' raised me properly only so that they would not be forced to compete with an ignorant fool. They took no pride in trying to best 'the little people'. They could get even more satisfaction from defeating their adversaries in their own blood line. 

          From the time of it's origin, my family has functioned by doing things the best way we know how. We are prepared for the world and armed with enough knowledge and solid durability to survive and for the rest of the way, we climb the social ladder to get above the rest. Our household was a factory. From bassinet to death bed we knew one thing: Alliance, Enemy, Strategy and Conquer. Image is everything. 

          We cared little for the money. Money was just an asset. It helped us get what we were after. We had other assets to be sure, and some were shameful. Everything we did was necessary. As I've matured, I've learned to respect those beneath me. They were the legs on which I stood. Without a middle class, there would be no upper class. I've learned to respect Marcey as a person, especially when she stuck around when I stopped paying her. For awhile when the money was gone, I entered a state of denial and even had the police show up at my door when the amount of false checks I had written became suspicious. They thought someone was forging my signature but I told them not to  be concerned.