Kingdom

II íntrσductíσns II

I stared out of the window as my limousine wound up and through the hills to the Brand estate. Maybe not my home now, but it was where I grew up. My black hair was heated by the sun shining through the car window, heating my back. My chauffeur, Eustace, pulled the car into our gravel driveway.

I mean, it wasn't really a driveway. A driveway is putting it too lightly. The path of road could easily hold hundreds of cars. It was more like a grand entrance to the Brand estate. Mansion is putting it too lightly. We own the thousand acres around the house, not to mention the 150,000 square foot house smacked on top. It really was a sight to behold. With five floors, five hundred bedrooms, and two ballrooms, there really wasn't anything my father missed when he asked this place to be opened.

Eustace stopped in front of the front entrance, and stepped out and opened my door. I dusted off my dress, and stood out of the car. I handed Eustace my purse, and elegantly strode for the house. Everything in this house was surveyed, something I learned quickly at a young age. To my right, I caught the quick snap and bright light of a camera, snapping my pictures. In a few hours, it would be sold, and I would be on the cover on whatever magazine wanted it most. I could see the headline already.

Heiress to the Brand Estate, Millicent Brand, Returns Home

What the magazines didn't know, however, was this was no simple homecoming. I wasn't coming to enjoy the presence of my family, but rather, my father had called me to talk to me. Important things, he clued at, during our brief phone call. I had called upon the private jet as soon as my perfectly manicured nails hit "End". If it was important, it could be about anything, from a business promotion for me, or news that my brother had died. Either option would've have been fine with me.

I strode up the steps quickly, not needing anymore fuel for the ever-burning fire that is Brand drama. Sure, we had plenty, but the magazines glorified it. As I finished the steps, the crystal doors swung open, and their stood my father's faithful footman, Carter. He held a tray with flutes of champagne. I nodded my head to him, and grabbed a glass, tempted to down it in one go. Carter saw my glance at the glass, and shook his head, giving me a small smile. Carter, although he seemed very standoffish, was one of my closest friends in this house of lies. I smiled back, and strode down the main corridor.

There, on the left, was perched my conniving little brother, Silas Junior. That rules out his death then. A real disappointment. Of course, it's tedious to call him Silas Junior, so we call him Nicholas. His brown hair was neatly trimmed, and his face clean shaven. His grey eyes, the calling mark, or brand if you wish, of the Brand's, gleamed.

"Hello there, darling brother," I said, smirking. I stopped in front of the couch he was so casually splayed on.

"Darling sister. It has been a while."

"What can I say", I said, and then took a delicate sip of the champagne, "Your stench kept me away."

Nicholas snorted, but I sashayed away down the hall to my father's office. As soon as he couldn't hear me, I sighed, and unclenched the fist I had around the glass, threatening to shatter it. I slowly relaxed, and regained my composure. In this house, my biggest enemy was Nicholas. Due to the sexist old ways of my father, he still believed that a man could beat a woman, so Nicholas had a running shot at my position, owner of Brand Tech. But I was the eldest, and the most experienced. I'd rather be dead then hand the crown to Nicholas, and he knew it.

I reached my father's door, and gathered myself before lightly rapping my knuckles against the door.

"Come in," a raspy voice sounded through the door. I pushed open the door, and there were two chairs in front of his desk, one currently occupied. The woman who was occupying it didn't need to turn around for me to identify her. My darling sister, Nicholas' twin, Angelica. Like her name states, she truly is angelic. Her shining blonde hair caught the light as she spun around to face me, her grey eyes filling with tears. Angelica was the most beautiful Brand, being almost identical to our mother. Unlike me, she had soft features, while mine were sharp, and intimidating.

"Millie," she whispered. Angelica was my best friend in this house, and when she was there, she made it a home.

"Annie," I said, walking towards and then sitting down in the chair, resting my hand on Annie's. She sniffed, and straightened her posture, but a large smile spread across her face. I crossed my legs, casually holding my glass of champagne in my hand.

"You called Father," I smiled perfectly, showing my perfectly white, and straight teeth. He smiled too, and just like that it became a stare down, our smiles no more than baring our teeth.

"Millicent, I'm glad you made it," he said. Like Nicholas, his appearance was nothing short of perfect. His black hair, now speckled with gray, was neatly trimmed, and he sported a full, but clean-cut, beard. 

I took very heavily after my father, both looks and personality. I had long black hair, like him, and the same sharp and cold features. It was advantageous for both of us, because we were both quite intimidating. And, like my father, I was one of the world's most eligible bachelors, or bachelorettes. While my features were quite the turn-on, my personality was the quite turn-off. I have a sharp tongue, and tend to get quite a bit over-dramatic. 

I turned to the woman sitting by his side, perched on his chair's arm. It was Vanessa Christie, my father's CEO. My heart jumped with joy. Vanessa's dark brown hair, similar to Nicholas', fell in curls down her generous bosom. And when I say generous, I mean huge. Definitely fake, and definitely huge. She smiled, but it didn't reach her amber eyes. She rapped her fingers against the desk, and I noticed a large diamond perched on her ring finger.

"Miss Christie, what a pleasure, " I dipped my glass in the direction of the ring, "Who's the lucky man?"

She smiled genuinely this time, and twisted the ring subconsciously.

"Actually, Millicent, that's what I-" my father started, but Vanessa shushed him with a quickly placed finger, her nails shining blood-red. Confusion shot through me.

"Actually, Mr. Brand, "she giggled, "I wanted to talk to her."

My heart dropped like a stone. I felt like vomiting.

"It's actually Mrs. Brand, or going to be any way. I'm the new heiress to Brand Technology," she said, a content smile curling the corners of her mouth.

I dropped the glass of champagne, the crystal glass shattering on my dad's perfect wood floors.