CHAPTER 1

Chapter 1: The Phoenix Rises

Emilia's eyes snapped open, her gaze piercing through the darkness. The memories came flooding back, like a tidal wave crashing against the shores of her mind. The fire, the screams, the feeling of helplessness as her world burned to ashes.

She rose from the bed, her movements fluid and calculated. The past was etched on her face, a map of scars and determination. Emilia's gaze fell upon the mirror, and for a moment, she saw the girl she once was – innocent, naive, and full of hope.

But that girl was gone, consumed by the flames that destroyed her family.

With a quiet resolve, Emilia began her morning routine, each movement a testament to her unwavering dedication. She was no longer the victim; she was the phoenix rising from the ashes, forged in the fire of her own vengeance.

Emilia's eyes locked onto the newspaper clipping on her dresser, the headline screaming "Blackwood Empire Expands: Marcus Blackwood Announces New Business Venture." A surge of adrenaline coursed through her veins as she read the article, her mind racing with possibilities.

She had been waiting for this moment, studying the Blackwood family's every move, searching for the perfect opportunity to strike. And now, with Marcus Blackwood's latest announcement, Emilia saw her chance.

With calculated precisionl.Her eyes gleamed with determination as she grabbed her phone and dialed a number.

"Good morning, Emilia," a smooth voice answered. "What can I do for you?"

"It's time," Emilia replied, her voice firm. "I need you to get me an invitation to the Blackwood charity gala tonight. I have a plan, and it starts now."

The voice on the other end hesitated for a moment before responding, "Consider it done. But be careful, Emilia. You're playing with fire."

Emilia smiled, a fierce glint in her eye. "I'm not afraid of getting burned."

As she dressed, Emilia's thoughts turned to the Blackwood family, the ones responsible for her pain. A slow smile spread across her face, a hint of the plan unfolding in her mind.

The game was about to begin, and Emilia was ready to play.

After making the phone call, Emilia stood before the mirror, her gaze piercing through her reflection. Memories of her past pains resurfaced, and for a moment, she allowed herself to feel the anguish. But she quickly pushed aside the emotions, focusing on her mission.

With a determined glint in her eye, Emilia began to get ready for the day. She slipped into a stunning peach blossom dress, its delicate fabric and soft color a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing inside her.

As she descended the grand staircase, the soft rustle of her dress announced her arrival. Emilia entered the opulent dining room, where the Winston family sat. She met with the cold stares of old Mr Winston's family, his daughter, Catherine and his granddaughter, Emma, at the breakfast table, their expressions unfriendly.

Catherine, a petite woman with a pinched face, spoke up first. "You're still here, Emilia. We hadn't expected you to stay so long."

Emma, a younger version of her mother, chimed in. "Yes, we thought you'd have found another charity case by now."

Emilia's smile remained steady as she took her seat."And who would chase me. Is it gonna be you, or your spoilt, good for nothing brother?"

Catherine's face turned sour"The old man was kind to you and gave you shelter, don't start acting like you own the place."

Emma nodded in agreement. "Yes, grandpa always been a bit of a pushover, that's why he let a dirty thing like you live with us."

Emilia's eyes locked onto Catherine's"Feed a snake and it will always come back to bite you. You along with your mother and brother are the snakes they refer to in that idiom. Grandpa was kind and let you all live here, but don't for once think I'm going to do that, by the way the time is near when I'll soon throw out all of the trash in this house."

The tension in the room was palpable, but Emilia stood her ground.

Emilia's gaze swept over them, her eyes icy. She took her seat, her movements deliberate and detached. Her icy gaze seemed to pierce through Catherine and Emma."I suggest you both speak less...only talk when you're spoken to. Your words are amusing...but ultimately pointless."

Catherine's voice trembled, "W-we were just-"

Emilia's raised hand silenced her, her eyes flashing with a warning. "I said speak less. Your thoughts are of no consequence to me."

Emma cowered, her eyes welling up with tears as she whispered, "Y-yes, of course."

The room fell silent, the only sound the clicking of utensils. Catherine and Emma dared not speak their eyes fixed on Emilia with a mix of fear and awe. They sensed the shift in power,and it terrified them.

Emilia's cold, and calculating gaze lingered on them for a moment before she turned her attention to her breakfast, her movements where fluid and graceful. The air was heavy with tension, the atmosphere oppressive, as Catherine and Emma struggled to comprehend the extent Emilia's newfound authority.

As Emilia ate her breakfast, her gaze occasionally swept over Catherine and Emma, who remained silent and still, their eyes fixed on their plates. The air was thick with tension, the silence oppressive.

When Emilia finished, she pushed her chair back and stood, her movements fluid and deliberate. "I have a charity gala to attend tonight," she announced, her voice dripping with an unsettling calmness. "I expect you both to be on your best behavior."

Catherine and Emma nodded, their eyes still fixed on their plates, their faces pale.

Emilia's gaze lingered on them for a moment before she turned and walked away, her heels clicking on the marble floor.

As she left the room, Catherine and Emma exhaled simultaneously, their shoulders sagging in relief. They dared not speak, their eyes still fixed on the door, as if fearing Emilia's return.

But as the minutes ticked by, they began to whisper, their voices trembling. "What's happened to her?" Emma asked, her eyes wide with fear.

Catherine shook her head. "I don't know, but I don't like it."

Their whispers were laced with fear, their eyes darting towards the door, as if expecting Emilia to return and punish them for speaking out of turn.

Catherine leaned in, her voice barely above a whisper. "You know, Emma, Emilia was always so obedient, so grateful for our help. But since the old man's funeral, she's changed. It's as if...he's still with her, guiding her."

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Emma's eyes widened, her face pale. "You mean, like, his spirit or something?"

Catherine nodded, her eyes darting around the room as if fearing they were being watched. "I know it sounds crazy, but I've seen the way she looks at us, with this...this cold calculation. It's unnerving."

Emma shuddered. "What if he's possessed her or something?"

Catherine's grip on her daughter's arm tightened. "We need to be careful, Emma. We can't let her get the better of us. We need to find a way to...take back control."

Emma's eyes sparkled with determination. "I'll help you, Mother. We'll find a way to snatch the business from her, no matter what it takes."

Catherine's smile was cold, calculating. "Yes, we will. And I have just the plan..."

As they whispered and schemed, Emilia's name hung in the air like a challenge, a threat to their very existence. Little did they know, Emilia was just getting started, and their plans would soon be turned against them.