I wake up to the sound of my alarm.
"A new day, new hell to experience," I think.
It might not be the best way to start the morning, but it's just reality in this country.
Let me give you an introduction.
My name is Eliya Hart. I live in Valdora, a place once drenched in sunshine, filled with music, laughter, and life.
But now? Now, it's a place dressed in fear.
The Serpent Circle came, and everything changed.
Democracy crumbled like ash between fingers.
Streets that once held light now only know shadows.
Every thought, every whisper, is monitored.There's no such thing as privacy-just silence, fear, and obedience.
Don Rafael Morello rules this land with an iron grip.
But he's nothing compared to his son - Leon.
Leon Morello.
The devil we were all taught never to name aloud.
I'd heard the stories: raised without empathy, taught to conquer, to destroy.
His power wasn't just political-it was personal.
People didn't just fear him.
They trembled at the echo of his name.
I try to block it all out as I get ready for school.
At breakfast, the smell of cinnamon tea hits first. Then, toasted sourdough.
Everything is in its place - cutlery lined like soldiers, flowers trimmed to the right height, chairs perfectly centered.
The sun spills through the window, and for a second, you'd think this house was holy.
"Good morning, darling," my mother says, voice sugar-sweet as always.
Across the table, my father looks up from his tablet.
"Prepared already? Just like your mother. Disciplined. Sharp."
I nod, slipping into my seat. Smile. Not too wide. Not too fake.
"Yes," I say. "I try."
My plate is already made: Toast cut diagonally, eggs folded like a magazine recipe, avocado lined like someone used a ruler.
It's all a little too perfect. Like always.
"I hope you revised your science notes," my mom says.
"Twice," I reply.
"Good girl," my father murmurs.
Champions. Trophies.
A daughter who makes them look good.
They love me.
In the way perfectionists love a project they've poured years into.
They gave me everything - except space to be myself.
Mistakes? Unacceptable.
Opinions? Overdramatic.
Dreams? Only valid if they aligned with theirs.
To the world, we're perfect:
Dr. Lila Hart - beloved pediatrician.
Samuel Hart - community leader.
And me, the shining result of their greatness.
"You're slouching again," my mom says.
I sit up straighter. My body obeys before my brain does.
"Of course," I say, forcing a smile. "I'm your daughter, aren't I?"
She beams like I just handed her a gold medal.
They don't see it.
The cracks.
The exhaustion.
The silent prayers to survive their expectations.
But I stay quiet. I eat the toast. I drink the damn tea.
Because that's what daughters do.
Time skip: School
St. Helora Academy wasn't just a school-it was a kingdom wrapped in a uniform stitched in gold.
Built like a cathedral, echoing with the footsteps of the elite.
Power had a name - and it walked in silence.
Leon Morello.
Where he moved, the air grew heavier.
He didn't need to speak to command attention.
He didn't need to smile to instill fear.
His circle moved around him, Dante Valez, quiet muscle and deadly purpose; Cassian Rook, sharp-tongued and snake-eyed; Selene Arquette, beauty and bloodshed stitched together. And Vera Knox - cold strategist, ice in her veins.
They weren't friends. They were a formation.
But strangely, Leon wasn't with them today.
I remember - today is April 6th.
His birthday.
Or, as I call it - The Day of Terror.
"The Birthday Privilege."
Valdora's darkest tradition.
On their 16th birthday, the Morello heir can break any law for one day.
Leon didn't throw a party.
He threw a massacre.
Fifty dead.
All elite monsters - rapists, abusers, pedophiles.
He cleaned the prison in blood.
The Morello family didn't flinch.
Isolde Morello smoked her cigarette.
"At least he chose the right monsters this year."
Rafael Morello tightened prison security the next day.
"He's learning restraint. Only fifty."
Seraphina Morello?
Posted a black square on social media with one word:
Iconic.
In the Morello household, violence wasn't a crime.
It was a skill.
And when your son slaughters evil and wears the stain like cologne...
You don't punish him.
You crown him.
Some walked like they ruled the world.
Others walked like ghosts to survive it.
There were golden ones - rich enough to smile like life was a joke.
And there were survivors - the quiet ones.
Like me.
I walk to my class and spot my friends.
Four of us - always four. Mihr - wild, magnetic,Joan - loud, reckless, Rai - silent, broken and observant. And me - the girl who smoothed the cracks.
We weren't a web. We were parallel lines, trying not to collapse.
Mrs. Alicia walks in.
The only human left, maybe.
She tries to smile.
"Good morning, everyone," she says.
BOOM.
The door slams open.
My heart stops.
Leon Morello walks in - black coat trailing, boots echoing like gunshots.
Two armed men follow him.
He doesn't speak.
He doesn't need to.
His silence is violence.
He scans the room.
And then -
His eyes land on me.
And the world stops breathing.
"What's your name?" Leon asks.
"Eliya," I answer.
"You're not afraid," he says, tilting his head.
"I am," I whisper.
He leans closer.
"Should I?"
I stay silent.
"ANSWER ME!" he roars.
The room vibrates.
"I-I don't know..." I stammer.
He smiles.
Not kindly.
Predatory.
"Take her," he commands.
My soul shatters.
"No! Please!" I scream as guards grab my arms. "I didn't do anything!"
No one helps.
Not even Mrs. Alicia.
They drag me away.
My screams echo in the halls.
I am taken..