Pampered Crimes

Dinara Anya Isyanov

As the woman dressed in maid clothing entered the room she smiled warmly at me which I didn’t reciprocate, “Miss, I am here to help you dress.”

Then without waiting for me to say anything she went to one of the doors which was a walk-in closet to take out clothes. I followed her inside.

I may not be girlish but I was a shopaholic and the closet I walked in was a heaven set-up for me. I was a girl, after all, one that was brought up in old money. Rack after rack limited-edition branded fabrics and accessories was just what I needed to calm my nerves.

Damn! The girl must be an asshat to leave this closet to elope with some hobo!′ The whole closet was filled with top-notch brands, classically rich but nothing flamboyant, more in the lines of tastefully modest yet sexy. The closet sure was drafted by a fashionista.

After an hour, I got ready with a bubble bath. It was relaxing after all the strenuous dread I had gone through.

Looking at my reflection I admired myself. I was wearing a knee-high royal blue dress with white strappy stilettos and a white cloth-hair band of the same material as the strips of the dress and the straps of the stilettos.

The girl was almost the same size as me but with her shoulder fitting and other curves. Though I was grateful for the untouched lingerie; her bras were some size smaller than mine and my busting boobs were suffocating and spilling out just like the underwear which couldn’t hold my ass but it was manageable. I could tell by the dress being lifted slightly high than my knees, I was some inches taller than the girl.

The girl had a branded custom-made closet. When I leave, I will definitely be stealing the teal dress that had taken my heart away! Taking a last look at myself I followed the maid to the Breakfast table.

The Mansion was nothing girly like the room but sophisticated and tedious like the man who came in the room to threaten or pep talk me-whatever that is called because it sure didn’t feel like a welcome wagon for an AWOL daughter.

All through my dress-up, I had made sure to have a light conversation with the maid so I have a little heads up with what I was against. I collected that the man was her father and he was ‘Mr. White’ then this was what I wrote on the search box on the phone of the girl I found on the nightstand.

One picture of him was all the lead I needed. Under it, Thane White was mentioned. I at once took note of the basic info about him.

When we reached there, the room already had Serena’s father who I had discovered was Mr. Thane White- an ex-general, a renowned major senator and the chairman of White Corporation, on the head of the table. A woman I recognized as Angelica, his wife was in his left, and two young man on his right, one in his late teens, Charles White. The other in his late twenties who I knew was the eldest prodigy son, the CEO of the White Corporation, Mark White. ‘Hmm.... Mother and brothers.’

On my arrival, they didn’t even look up but continued their meal. I didn’t miss the slight scowl on the mother’s face and it was enough to know they weren’t really the typical mother-daughter duo. The only person who seemed bothered was the man who was the girl’s father.

He looked up and indicated to the seat next to the teenage boy. I went there, sat, and said in my most presentable greeting, “Good Morning.” Never have I ever been more proud of the accent that left me. Years ago, I lost it as I was brought up traveling from the States to Moscow all my life.

The ostentatiously dressed middle-aged woman looked up and sneered in a mocking tone, “Morning? Serena, I don’t see how any of morning is left.” As she said that, she didn’t stay but stood up, excused herself saying she had her fill.

‘Then step-mother, it is’ I thought and shrugged focusing on the good, fat-filled American food laid. After a minute or two, the supposed father and the elder of the brothers left too but not before giving me a shit-eating grin.

I couldn’t help but snort. ‘Such a dandy happy family!’ I mumbled under my breath.

I was still not over the fact that I had a doppelganger who was probably having the steaming time of her life with some sexy rider or hot hobo as they put it. I am assuming hot and sexy because... Duh! It was the only reason I would come up with to leave a life of luxury.

As they left, the youngest of the brother threw his fork and knife on the table with a clank. He turned to me with a mischievous look on his face and asked eagerly, “I heard you ran away, Serena. So where did you stay a whole day and a night? With that strange man? Did he take you to their turf? Oh GOD! Did you get down and dirty with him?! ”

He sounded as if he was asking of some adventure. I rolled my eyes: typical teenage boy.

I smirked at the excited boy. If he knew what I did the days I was a fugitive for, he would puke blood. “That’s not for kids to know!” Patting his head, I decided to play cool.

Instantly fuming in anger the boy was red, “Serena! What do you mean ‘kid’? That’s too much for a virgin to say! I have more of a sex life than your two lives combine!”

Looking up with a smug expression, I raised a brow trying to flare his anger, “Virgin? Now that’s quite delusional of you.”

He gaped at me with wide eyes and squeaked out, “What the hell do you mean?!”

My smirk widened and I drew closer to his ear and slowly elaborated, “What I mean is... I haven’t been a virgin for almost a decade now but that is nothing for a brother to know.”

The boy looked like I just told him, he was pregnant and he just went into labor. I couldn’t help grinning at the boy and leaving the table.

Though, I might have spoken too much but presumably if they had concrete proof that the girl was in fact a virgin they would naturally assume that I was bluffing to win the argument.

Getting into the room I decided to collect the significantly basic information about the family so I am not caught anytime soon, starting from g****e searching all articles and social media accounts.

After three days of observation, stalking through the internet and indirect investigation from the maids, I realized too many important things: the girl’s name was Serena Iris White, and was a well-mannered and kind ass. She wasn’t a public figure like her other family members. The only thing you could collect from the internet is her name. Her real mother was a mystery but she was adopted by Angelica and Thane. She was twenty-three just like me. Mark, the eldest brother was a couple of months younger than her which obviously makes her the result of a fling. Charles was a teenager, still attending high school.

Both of them don’t bother themselves with the girl. Her supposed mother and she had a hot and cold relationship but none the less Angelica White was the one who took care of everything for her, from her Keto diet plan to her chipped pinky nail.

Finally, her father, who was an ex-military General before taking over the family business on his father’s death: He was a stern man but probably cared for his daughter in some twisted way.

She was definitely pampered but caged. No wonder she eloped! Her life was just too directed by others. She was a 23-year-old woman for calling out loud and couldn’t select her own tampon brand!

Back to the story, she escaped from home because of an arranged marriage she didn’t consent to. On the internet, there isn’t anything about it that makes it a confidential business. Probably the girl had an affair and eloped the first chance she got. Which meant she won’t be back any time before the honeymoon phase fade, a relief. And lastly, I was grounded! I couldn’t even go to the porch without being escorted!