Chapter 19 – The Chains Start to Break

The morning sun cast a golden hue over the mansion, but inside, it was as cold as ever. I sat at the long dining table, my hands wrapped around a steaming cup of tea. Across from me, my father, Magnus Montiero, read the newspaper in silence while Nicholas sipped his coffee.

This was the routine. No one spoke unless necessary. No warmth, no conversation—just an unbearable silence that had weighed on me for years.

But today… today was different.

I was different.

I lifted my spoon and gently stirred my tea, watching the ripples in the liquid as I carefully formed my next move.

I knew my family didn’t care about me. But they cared about power. And that was something I could use.

The First Challenge

“Father,” I said, my voice even.

He barely looked up from his paper. “What?”

“I want to study business.”

Silence.

Nicholas’s cup froze mid-air, and my mother, who had just entered the room, paused mid-step. They weren’t expecting that.

Father finally lowered the newspaper, his sharp, calculating eyes meeting mine. “Business?” He scoffed. “What nonsense are you talking about now?”

I didn’t flinch. “I want to learn how to run a company. If I am going to be a Montiero, I should act like one.”

Nicholas smirked, setting his cup down. “That’s funny. The weak little Clarisse suddenly wants to be useful?”

I ignored him, keeping my gaze on my father. “If I don’t prove myself, I will always be nothing more than a burden to this family. Isn’t that what you’ve always said?”

Father leaned back, observing me like I was a puzzle he had yet to solve. I could see the wheels turning in his head.

Then, finally, he spoke. “Fine. If you want to prove yourself, I’ll give you a test.”

My heart pounded, but I kept my face neutral. “What kind of test?”

He set his newspaper aside and clasped his hands together. “The Montiero family owns many businesses, but there’s one in particular that’s failing. If you can turn it around in six months, I’ll consider your request.”

Six months? That wasn’t much time at all.

But I had no choice. If I wanted to take control of my own fate, I had to start now.

“Alright,” I said. “I accept.”

Father smirked, amused by my confidence. “Then let’s see if you truly have what it takes.”

Enemies at Every Turn

After breakfast, I went straight to my room, locking the door behind me. I paced back and forth, my mind racing.

This was my chance. My chance to prove to them that I wasn’t weak.

But it wouldn’t be easy. My father wouldn’t set a challenge he thought I could win. Which meant he expected me to fail.

A knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts.

I opened it to see Nicholas, leaning casually against the frame, his smirk firmly in place. “You’re really something, aren’t you?”

I crossed my arms. “What do you want?”

He chuckled. “Oh, nothing. Just wanted to see how long you’d last before you came crawling back, begging to quit.”

I met his gaze head-on. “I won’t quit.”

Nicholas’s smirk faltered slightly before he let out a soft chuckle. “We’ll see about that, little sister.”

Then he walked away, leaving me standing there with my fists clenched.

They all wanted me to fail.

But I wouldn’t.

Because I wasn’t the old Clarisse anymore.

And I was ready to burn their expectations to the ground.

----

For the rest of the day, I locked myself in my room, researching everything I could about the business my father had assigned to me.

It was a high-end fashion boutique, once popular but now on the verge of shutting down. Profits were low, customer interest had dropped, and the management was a mess.

No wonder Father chose this for my test.

He expected me to fail because I had no business experience.

But what he didn’t know was that I had something better—determination.

I took a deep breath and began taking notes.

Understand the current problems.

Figure out what customers want.

Fix the leadership.

I might not have all the answers yet, but I wasn’t going to sit around and wait for them to mock me.

A Secret Meeting

Late that night, I sneaked out of my room, careful not to make a sound.

If I was going to save this business, I needed help—someone who actually understood fashion and branding.

And I knew exactly who to talk to.

I slipped into the garage and quietly took the keys to one of the family cars. As I drove toward the city, I felt something strange—excitement.

For the first time since I woke up in this body, I wasn’t just reacting to my family’s cruelty.

I was making my own path.

After an hour, I arrived at a small but elegant apartment complex. I stepped out of the car, checked my phone one last time, and sent a message.

A few minutes later, the door to apartment 709 opened, and a tall, elegant woman with piercing green eyes stared at me in shock.

“Clarisse?” she asked, surprised.

I straightened my posture and met her gaze.

“No,” I said, my voice firm. “I’m Leila.”

The Fashion Queen

Jasmine Vasquez, also known as the queen of fashion PR, was my target tonight.

She used to work for my father’s company before she left under suspicious circumstances. If anyone could teach me how to turn a business around, it was her.

She crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe. “Leila, huh? Interesting.”

I took a deep breath. “I need your help.”

She smirked. “Let me guess. Your father finally threw you to the wolves, and now you want to prove him wrong?”

I stiffened. “Something like that.”

Jasmine studied me for a long moment before stepping aside. “Come in.”

I didn’t hesitate. This was the beginning of my fight.

And I was ready for war.

----

Jasmine’s apartment was sleek and modern, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city skyline. The soft glow of city lights made the place feel alive, yet there was an unmistakable coldness to it—much like Jasmine herself.

She gestured for me to sit on the couch while she grabbed a bottle of wine. “You drink?”

I shook my head. “I’m here for business, not pleasure.”

Her lips curled into an amused smile as she poured herself a glass. “Still as intense as ever, huh?”

I didn’t respond. She was testing me, trying to see if I would back down.

But I wasn’t the same weak Clarisse. I was Leila.

Laying Out My Plan

I took a deep breath and leaned forward. “The boutique my father gave me—it’s dying. But I don’t believe it’s a lost cause.”

Jasmine sipped her wine, watching me carefully. “And why do you think I would care?”

I met her gaze. “Because you used to work for him. And if you left, it means you had your reasons. I think you want revenge as much as I do.”

She raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

I continued. “Help me turn this boutique around. If we succeed, it’ll prove that I’m not the failure they think I am. And for you… it’s a chance to show my father he made a mistake letting you go.”

Silence filled the room.

Then, Jasmine laughed—a low, knowing chuckle. “I underestimated you, Leila. You’re not the same desperate little girl they pushed around, are you?”

“No,” I said firmly. “I’m not.”

A Dangerous Deal

Jasmine swirled the wine in her glass, considering my offer. Then, with a smirk, she leaned forward.

“Alright. I’ll help you. But I have conditions.”

I narrowed my eyes. “What conditions?”

“One, I work alone. No interference.”

I nodded. “Fine.”

“Two, you do exactly as I say, no matter what.”

I hesitated, but I needed her. “Deal.”

She grinned. “And three… if we fail, you owe me something big.”

I exhaled slowly. “Like what?”

Jasmine’s smirk deepened. “I’ll decide that later.”

I didn’t like the sound of it, but I was out of options.

So I shook her hand.

“Deal.”

And just like that, I made my first dangerous alliance.

One that would either save me—or destroy me.

-----

The moment our hands separated, I knew there was no turning back. This was it—the first real risk I was taking in this new life.

Jasmine leaned back against the couch, her green eyes sharp with amusement. “Well then, princess, let’s get to work.”

I ignored the nickname. “I need to know everything about the boutique. Every flaw, every mistake, every opportunity.”

She smirked. “And here I thought you’d beg me to do all the work.”

I shot her a look. “I don’t plan on losing.”

Jasmine laughed. “I like your attitude. Alright, let’s start with the basics.”

She pulled out her laptop, and within minutes, she had a detailed report displayed on the screen.

The boutique was a disaster.

The previous manager had embezzled money, leading to major losses.

The brand image was outdated, making it unattractive to younger customers.

The fashion industry had evolved, but the boutique hadn’t kept up.

Worst of all, customer trust was gone.

I clenched my fists. Father knew this. That’s why he gave it to me.

He wanted me to fail.

But I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

A Bold Strategy

I turned to Jasmine. “How do we fix this?”

She arched an eyebrow. “Most people would quit after seeing those numbers.”

“I’m not most people.”

Jasmine chuckled. “Fair enough. Here’s the plan.”

She typed quickly, and a new set of bullet points appeared.

Fire the corrupt staff and bring in reliable people.

Rebrand the boutique to appeal to modern trends.

Secure a high-profile collaboration to bring back credibility.

Launch a limited-edition collection to create demand.

Use social media to rebuild trust.

I read the list carefully. It was risky, but if we pulled it off, we could save the boutique.

Jasmine smirked. “Think you can handle it?”

I met her gaze. “Watch me.”

The First Step to War

I stood up, feeling more determined than ever. “We start tomorrow.”

Jasmine raised her glass. “To our partnership.”

I didn’t drink, but I nodded. This wasn’t just about business.

This was my declaration of war.

And I was ready to fight.

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