Chapter 8: The Golden Cage
To outsiders, Savannah Bright lived a dream. Her mansion shimmered under the sun like something torn from a magazine. She drove custom cars, wore limited-edition fashion, and never repeated an outfit unless she wanted to make a statement. Her laugh was practiced. Her presence commanded silence. At Riverside University, no one dared cross her not students, not staff.
But beneath the surface, Savannah lived in a golden cage, and the bars were carved from her last name.
She woke each morning to the scent of citrus candles and expensive perfume. Maids tiptoed around her room, older women with stiff backs and wary glances. They spoke softly and never asked questions. Once, long ago, younger staff had filled the halls with chatter until the whispers started. Until the girls stopped showing up. Now, Savannah didn't need to raise her voice to command silence.
She walked into the kitchen that morning and saw one of the maids setting out breakfast. Her eyes twitched at the sight of scrambled eggs.
"I said poached, not scrambled." Her voice was calm, but sharp as glass.
The maid bowed her head. "My apologies, Miss Savannah."
A plate shattered.
"Then why do I see scrambled?"
She wasn't angry about the eggs. She was angry about Eliana.
Last night, Savannah had stalked Eliana's social media like a detective. Nothing flashy, nothing obvious. Just pictures with friends, subtle smiles, and that same mystery that made her feel like everyone was starting to notice her. Including Jace.
That part stung.
Savannah had been raised to believe she could have anything she wanted, and anyone. Especially him.
But Eliana wasn't trying. She wasn't even competing. She was just... existing. And somehow that made it worse.
That afternoon, Savannah sat in the backseat of her private car, sunglasses low on her nose, scrolling through her phone. An anonymous message flashed on her screen:
"We saw what your brother did last summer. And someone's finally talking."
Her heart skipped. Her hands trembled, just for a second. Then she clicked it shut and deleted it.
No one would dare. No one could.
Right?
But later that day, the tension bloomed like a bruise.
At a high-end restaurant in the city, she sat with her mother, the ever-graceful Mrs. Bright, dressed in pearls and a designer shawl. They dined in a quiet corner, a habit for damage control every public appearance was calculated to perfection.
Savannah stirred her soup. "People are whispering again."
Her mother sighed. "Let them whisper. Your father's on it."
"But what if it—"
"You let us worry about Leo," she cut in, her smile strained. "Your job is to stay beautiful, stay clean, and stay silent."
Savannah looked out the window, her jaw clenched. For the first time in a long while, she hated the smell of money.
That night, Savannah sat in her bedroom surrounded by luxury and loneliness. She stared at herself in the mirror.
Beautiful. Powerful. Untouchable.
But something in her chest twisted.
She had built her empire on fear and control. But lately, it felt like the foundation was cracking. Her friends whispered behind her back. Her teachers were beginning to push back. And someone someone out there had seen something. Knew something.
And worse, she had no idea who.
As she lay in bed, she remembered her brother's voice from earlier that week:
"If anyone steps out of line… you just say the word."
She hadn't said it.
Not yet.
But if Eliana kept rising… and if Jace kept looking at her like that…
She might.
And this time, she wouldn't hold back.
within the walls of Riverside university
The hallway buzzed with the echo of laughter and whispers none of which reached Eliana as she walked past the lockers, her face unreadable. Savannah's words in class still clung to the air like smoke, but Eliana wore her silence like armor.
She didn't fight back. She didn't need to. That's what Savannah didn't understand.
Not all strength is loud.
She stepped out into the afternoon sun, head high but heart quiet. Her friends wouldn't catch up. Not today. There were some truths even she didn't have the energy to pretend around.
As the gates of Riverside University closed behind her, Eliana's mask slipped, just slightly. She reached into her bag for her keys not to a sports car, but to a second-floor walk-up in the quiet part of town.
Because there was another life waiting.
One no one knew.
Eliana's Truth
The Grant family estate was the kind of place you'd see featured in glossy magazines sprawling grounds, imported marble floors, and a private koi pond her mother insisted brought "serenity to the soul." Yet to Eliana, the mansion felt more like a museum than a home. Every inch screamed wealth, but none of it ever felt like hers.
She stood on the balcony, her hair pulled into a lazy bun, wearing one of her brother's oversized hoodies instead of the designer robes her mother left out for her. The city skyline shimmered in the distance. Somewhere far below, the sound of a luxury car revving echoed across the drive.
"Eliana!" Elijah's voice cut through the air as he stepped onto the balcony beside her. He held a sleek, midnight-black car key.
"Not this again," she sighed.
"You walk to campus," he said, incredulous. "You're Elijah Grant's sister and you walk." He tossed the key gently onto the table beside her. "It's yours if you want it."
"I don't."
He folded his arms. "Why do you keep doing this? I could've gotten you into the top program at Trinity. Or that Ivy League one in London. You've got options, El—"
"I don't want options that come with your name attached," she snapped before softening. "I just want something real. Mine."
He didn't argue. He never did. He just picked up the key again, his face unreadable.
Eliana's apartment near Riverside University was clean, small, and modest just how she liked it. To her friends, it was "cute," maybe even "artsy." What they didn't know was that it was a façade.
A carefully crafted story.
No one knew her real last name. Just Eliana. Just the quiet girl who transferred from out of state. She paid the rent herself with allowance funneled discreetly through her personal account and always insisted on low-key outings. No selfies at her place. No tags. No questions.
She remembered the moment it all started. A scandal.
Not hers. Elijah's.
Years ago, a business rival tried to frame him, dragging the Grant name through the mud. Even after it was cleared up, the headlines left a stain. At school, Eliana had been judged, teased, and called names that had nothing to do with her. That experience had carved a truth into her: people love you when you're rising… but they watch for your fall.
Ever since, she'd chosen privacy over prestige. Distance over drama. She hadn't told her friends she had a brother, much less the Elijah Grant. And she intended to keep it that way.
Back at the estate, Elijah sat across from their mother in the sunroom, his phone resting on the table.
"She still won't take the car?" Miriam asked, stirring her tea.
"She won't take anything. She won't even let me buy her textbooks."
Miriam smiled wistfully. "She's just like your father."
"No," Elijah said quietly. "She's smarter."
He didn't know what had driven his sister to build such high walls. But one day, he'd find out.
And when he did, he'd tear them down stone by stone.