Chapter 22

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Twelve years ago...

Leila watched her daughter walk around the room in a ridiculously high pair of heels that she'd bought specifically for the training.

The lesson wasn't just for physical perseverance, it was also to teach Beatrice that no one would care whatever it is you're going through. The society didn't care if you were happy as far as you claimed it.

"Your back isn't straight. I want those bones well formed. Eyes front! I don't ever want to see you glance at your feet." Leila barked like a commander to his army.

Beatrice surprisingly didn't wobble or slip despite her mother's sharp tone. She'd been undergoing the training for a few weeks so it was getting easier to block out her mother's voice.

Her well-toned body strained with the effort. Her mother glanced at her arms and was pleased to see that her daughter looked slim and fit due to how much time she had spent in the gym.

"I can see those veins on your neck! Release the strain! You are meant to look graceful not like some muscled brute! Hurry up! You have three more minutes to get to the end of the room." Leila barked louder.

Beatrice wished she could clobber her mother with the heels so she'd shut her mouth for once.

She hated daily lessons as much as she despised the woman who gave birth to her. The only offense she'd ever committed was being born as Leila's daughter. She couldn't be anything but perfect.

Hector was watching from his chair. He had a newspaper in his hands but his eyes were glued to his daughter.

Beatrice somehow managed to get to the end of the room with about 30 seconds to spare but that didn't seem to please her mother. Leila was never pleased.

"Be faster and more graceful next time. You're sweating like a pack of mules and you smell worse than a desert camel." Leila snapped.

Beatrice resisted the urge to strangle her mother. She counted numbers in her head to calm herself down.

After Beatrice had respectfully returned everything into its rightful place, she disappeared down the hall, feeling a dozen aches in her body.

"She moves like a cat," Hector remarked proudly. He was amused by how easily his daughter could disappear and reappear at will. Beatrice was very graceful.

"I want her to move like greased lightening. She's very special." Leila grumbled.

Beatrice was her mini project. She liked to think of the girl as a machine she was programming to perfection. She had high standards for her daughter. Beatrice wasn't allowed to be anything but extraordinary.

Beatrice was very beautiful. Leila realized Beatrice was far more beautiful than she had ever been in her youth. It pleased her because she imagined all what her daughter would achieve with so much beauty and brains.

Hector's genes had mixed well with Leila's. Beatrice had a very uncommon combination of wit, beauty, charm, and evil genius.

The girl was almost perfect.

Leila couldn't have been more proud to be her mother.

The old Butler came into the room looking dignified. He bowed low to the Riveras and cleared his throat.

"Mr. Rivera, Mrs. Rivera. You have a guest waiting in the second parlor." Butler said.

Leila narrowed her eyes at her husband.
"A guest? For the both of us?" She asked him. She didn't appreciate surprise visitors.

Hector narrowed his eyes back at her since he also didn't like surprise guests.

"Your guess is as good as mine. Who is this guest?" He asked.

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