"Beautiful Tyrants" by Vanessa Saint's

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My leaden feet carried me up the sweeping staircase. I knew there was no point in fighting back. Besides, she was right. I was just the poor relation. The bastard, conceived from a mistake. And fighting back against Ashleigh had never earned me anything but pain. She was a force to be reckoned with, and she never ever gave in.

“Here you are,” she trilled, throwing open a door. She stepped back, allowing me to enter first. I glanced at her suspiciously, but the simple beauty of my new “home” distracted me.

The room was so simply decorated it could almost be called bare. White walls, white bedding, and more pale furniture made the room feel open and airy. But the far wall held what intrigued me most. My own balcony overlooking the Sound, with huge glass doors and windows besides. The blue outside was a splash of bright color set against the bright cleanliness of the room. I was in love.

“That’s our bathroom,” she pointed to a door on the inner wall, which I knew from Dad’s will was our Jack and Jill shared bathroom. The thought of sharing a bathroom with her for the next year almost killed my vibe, but I tamped it down, tossing my duffel onto the floor beside the bed.

As I did, I noticed something… off. I sniffed. Had the room been closed up? Was it just musty? Then, stepping closer to the bed and sniffing again, I recoiled violently. “My God,” I said, plugging my nose. “What the hell is that smell?”

“Oh good! You found your welcome gift!” She shrieked with laughter, falling into the doorframe.

I ripped back that spotlessly clean, plush white coverlet to reveal mounds of horse manure, smeared and spread across the sheets beneath.

I couldn’t help myself—I screamed.

Behind me, Ashleigh was still laughing, tears streaming down her face. “Oh, I can’t wait to tell Dillon about this! All his shoveling was worth it!”

I whipped around to face her. “Dillon? You’re still together?”

She nodded, wiping tears from her eyes. “Of course we are.”

My shoulders tightened. Oh, God. Dillon James.

This had just gotten so, so much worse.

Ashleigh came to my side and slung a tan, slender arm around my shoulders. “Oh, Emmy. This year might just end up being fun after all.” She squeezed me tightly to her side, and with a last laugh, left me alone in my fouled, shit-filled, stunningly beautiful bedroom while I wondered why the hell I had even agreed to this in the first place.

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