Genevieve was greeted by the scent of freshly ground coffee and warm pastries, as she stepped into The Whispering Cup. The soft hum of conversation blended with the quiet hiss of the espresso machine, creating an inviting yet lively atmosphere.
Warm lighting bathed the space in a golden glow, reflecting off the dark wooden tables and the vintage brass fixtures that adorned the walls.
Near the entrance, an elderly man sat alone by the window, his fingers slowly turning the pages of an old novel, a half empty cup of black coffee beside him. A group of college students occupied a corner booth, their laughter occasionally breaking through the mellow jazz playing overhead. The café had the kind of charm that made it easy to disappear into; perfect for what Genevieve and her aunt had needed when they chose this place as their relaxing joint after their morning runs.
But in the end, no matter how well a pretty girl was hidden, she could never stay unnoticed for long.
Behind the bar, a young man with rolled up sleeves and a teasing smirk caught sight of her. "Looking gorgeous as always, Red," he called out, his voice carrying just enough to turn a few heads.
Used to the attention, Genevieve didn't spare him, or anyone else for that matter, a glance. Without breaking stride, she moved past the counter, her sneakers padding softly against the tiled floor. She knew exactly where she was going; the back lounge.
Tucked away at the farthest end of the café, the lounge was dimly lit and far more secluded than the main area. More importantly, it was the only section where the CCTV cameras didn't reach. A single, curved booth sat in the corner, away from prying eyes.
Genevieve slid into the seat, crossing her legs as she leaned back to wait for her aunt. She gazed out through the glass walls for a full ten minutes. During that time, a server approached to take her order and soon returned with two cups, one of cappuccino and the other of iced caramel latte. She was so engrossed in her drink, idly swirling the cream with her straw, that she only looked up when the bartender's voice called out, "You're here too, Anna. It's been a while."
Genevieve's lips curved into a small smile as she watched the woman the bartender had been greeting advance towards her, with black hair pulled up into a sleek ponytail while a stern expression dominated her face.
Back when her family was still alive and her aunt used to visit them once in a while, Genevieve never liked and was always scared of her aunt because of the scowl that always sat permanently on the older woman's.
But after the incident that led to them living together for two years, she had come to understand that this was her aunt's way of maintaining control as one of the youngest orphanage directors in the country.
It had helped her grow accustomed to the perpetual look of displeasure and annoyance on her aunt's face, which was why she couldn't suppress the smile that broke across her lips when the woman finally arrived at the table.
"Good morning, Aunt Anna," she greeted.
TWO YEARS AGO…
Sixteen year old Genevieve raced down a spiral staircase, her vibrant red hair streaming behind her as she shouted at the top of her lungs, "Mama! Papa! Vince! Get out of your rooms. It's your precious baby's birthday!"
Reaching the first floor, she wove through the flurry of maids and butlers bustling about, clearly preparing for a grand celebration. Bursting out of the mansion, she barely had time to react before colliding with a young maid balancing a precarious stack of silverware. The plates clattered to the ground, and the maid let out an exasperated sigh.
"Stop running, Young Miss! What do you need outside this early in the morning?"
Genevieve rolled her eyes but skidded to a halt, turning to face the maid. "You can't scold me today, Leyla. No one can! It's my birthday, and I'm going to the mansion gates to welcome my friends myself!"
The maid named Leyla snickered, arms crossed. "In that embarrassing nightgown, Young Miss? I doubt you'd want your friends to see you like that."
Glancing down at herself, young Genevieve's eyes widened in horror.
"Oh, God. Thanks for noticing, Leyla! You're a lifesaver!" she shrieked before spinning around and dashing back inside.
As if waiting for her, an older maid caught her by the collar the moment she stepped through the grand entrance, swiftly dragging her toward the staircase.
"I will never understand what kind of girl you are, Miss Eve. Always running around like a wild child instead of a proper sixteen year old. Your parents have been looking for you, and i must say, they aren't looking pleased."
Genevieve froze. This was bad.