ONE YEAR AGO

I found myself in a luxurious boutique filled with rows upon rows of dazzling shoes, each pair more exquisite than the last. The air was filled with the scent of fine leather and the soft tinkling of fancy chandeliers overhead.

As I glided through the aisles, my fingertips caressed the supple suede of a pair of crimson stilettos, the iconic red sole gleaming in the soft glow of the boutique. I slipped them on, feeling a surge of confidence—

BZZZZ—but I was interrupted.

BZZZZ—by a noise.

BZZZZ—I snoozed my phone and tossed it to the other side, wanting to go back to my pleasant dream.

"Miss Tahlia, it's time to wake up! You don't want to be late on your first day," Helga chirped with her squeaky morning voice.

"Leave. Now," I snapped, burying my face deeper into my silk-covered pillows and dismissing her with a wave of my hand. I heard her scurry away obediently. Good girl, she knew who sent her paychecks.

I took my time freshening up and going through my morning beauty ritual. A 'queen' must always look her best to keep the commoners in their place. When I finally made my way to the closet, I faced a dilemma—what to wear on this momentous day?

My eyes settled on a smart black Versace pantsuit with a lacy white blouse. Hm, much too safe and boring for someone of my stature. I was no basic bimbo. A sly grin spread across my face as I spotted the perfect skirt—a fab Gucci pencil skirt with edgy silver details and a slit cut just high enough to tantalize. Paired with my favorite red Louboutins, I would slay.

Click-clacking down the staircase, I felt powerful as my honey-blonde hair waves bounced with each step. In the dining room, the chirpy maid informed me, "Your father left a message. He wishes you good fortune today and asked if you can remind your mother about this month's board meeting."

"How thoughtful of him to pass along a message through the help," I retorted sarcastically. "Did Father say anything else?"

"No, miss."

"And has Mother called?" I asked, though I already knew the answer. No. There had not been any direct communication from the elusive Mommy Dearest. Big surprise. Her 'royal highness' hadn't had time for me since her latest scalpel treatment.

"No, miss, she hasn't." I noticed a brief pang of pain on the rosy pale face that was staring back at me. I guess most commoners would be confused by my situation and even get the outrageous idea that they should, um, pity me. Nothing could be further from the truth.

"You're excused," I announced coldly before she could drone on. Poor naïve girl, she would never understand the burdens of being me – Tahlia Clarisse Steelman, proud heiress to the Steel Conglomerate empire.

I liked to think of myself as a modern-day Paris Hilton. My life had been meticulously planned since before my conception. I was born to one day rule our family's multi-billion-dollar steel empire with an iron fist. So naturally, I relished playing the part of queen bitch.

I shot a text to my mother asking how the French Riviera was treating her majesty and if she would actually attend this month's board meeting. No response, as expected. I had learned to accept that she was just not what you would call mother material.

With a toss of my honey-blonde waves, I grabbed my Prada handbag and walked out to the circular driveway where my flawless blue Bentley Continental shone like a royal chariot awaiting its queen.

Before getting into the luxurious ride, I stopped to admire my reflection in the side mirror. The well-dressed socialite looking back at me exuded confidence and power. A satisfied smirk graced my lips. "Seriously, I'm too fabulous for the plebs," I said to my reflection.

After another boring orientation lecture from the university dean, I rushed off to meet my crew - my dashing boyfriend Allistair, his sophisticated sister Teresa, and our effortlessly chic friend Tamara.

As a 21-year-old junior at Hopevale University, I relished my status sitting comfortably at the top of the social elite on campus. Nearly there, I was suddenly crashed into by a walking mountain of books and papers that toppled directly into my path.

Sheer horror paralyzed me as I watched in slow motion while a vile brown liquid seeped into the pristine perfection of my crimson-soled Louboutins. Amidst the catastrophe unfolding before me, I saw a pair of mousy hazel eyes blinking at me from behind some cheap chunky eyeglasses, partially obscured by a mane of frizzy auburn hair.

The fashion-blind cretin was clad in a shapeless floral dress and tattered flats that I had half a mind to confiscate and incinerate. Honestly, where were the fashion police when you needed them?

Most vexing was her complete ignorance of my ruined designer heels and the lack of groveling that should ensue. "I didn't see you there," she mumbled absently as she gathered her clutter.

"Clearly you need a new optometrist," I retorted icily, tapping my foot in impatience.

She had the audacity to chuckle. "You're probably right. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to get in your way. I hope I didn't hurt you?" Her attention remained fixed on reorganizing her fallen books.

I was about to erupt! Why was this wench not falling to her knees and begging forgiveness for assassinating my Louboutins?

"I'm sorry about spilling my drink," she rambled on. "I hope it wasn't too ho—"

I cut off her nerve-grating prattle sharply. "If I were you, I'd worry less about those books and more about the $10,000 shoes you just ruined."

My icy glare should have made it abundantly clear that I was carefully weighing the merits of having Campus Security drag her away in handcuffs or gouging her eyes out with the very stilettos she had just massacred. If I did it with my own hands, that should count as self-defense, I told myself.

"Tally, are you okay?" I heard Allistair's gentle voice as he rushed to my side, flanked by Teresa and Tamara.

"No, I'm not!" I cried out dramatically. "My Louboutins are ruined!" I lifted my foot slightly, shaking it, and the brown ooze was still dripping from my stilettos. I shot daggers at the offender with my eyes. How dare this urchin assault my precious shoes and not beg for mercy!

The little waif slowly stood, finally taking in my fiery anger. She cowered, arms wrapped around her books, slender frame trembling under my harsh gaze.

"It's all her fault!" As I lifted an accusatory finger pointed at the culprit as I proclaimed loudly to draw more attention. Heads started to turn toward the commotion. Excellent—let them all bear witness!

The girl opened and closed her mouth pathetically. I enjoyed watching her squirm. "I'm so sorry," she squeaked out finally. "I really didn't see you coming." Too late, I was boiling hotter than a melted sheet of steel.

"Who are you anyway?" Teresa snapped disdainfully, peeking over her Chanel sunglasses. The perpetrator looked at her with a deer-in-the-headlights look. "Nevermind, we don't care," Teresa snapped.

Tamara chimed in, hands on her waist, "Do you even realize who you just landed on?"

The terrified girl's eyes bounced between us, realizing she was hopelessly outmatched. Good! At least she was not brain-damaged.

"I-I'm sorry, I don't, I uh—" she stammered helplessly. Pathetic, though she really should have known better than to cross someone like me. Finally, she managed to sputter out an offer to clean my shoes.

"Clean?" I asked in disbelief. Did she just say what I thought she did?

"Yes, I can have them cleaned for you," she said with a bit of confidence in her voice.

The nerve! As if her filthy claws were worthy of touching my precious shoes! I exchanged an amused glance with my cohorts before bursting into laughter.

"Oh darling, I'm sure you meant well, but these are one-of-a-kind designer originals worth more than your entire wardrobe," I cruelly drawled at her. Stepping inches from her face, I lowered my voice to a menacing growl. "I'll pretend you were just kidding because you clearly lack the mental faculties to grasp your offense. But know this: you will NEVER lay a finger on my Louboutins. Now scamper away and pray we don't cross paths again."

I turned sharply, ensuring my hair slapped her defeated face. As she scurried away, I saw Allistair bending down to help the now teary girl, who had just assaulted me, pick up her damn books. Needless to say, my blood was boiling. Was it 'test Tahlia's patience day' today? Un-friggin-believable.

"Let's. Go. Now." A murderous glare went out to the girl; I could see her stiffening her back.

I guess Allistair knew I wasn't playing around because he stood up and, did I hear this right? He mumbled an "I'm so sorry" to the girl who only shook her head in response.

As we walked away, my head was spinning. I was seeing red. The squishy sound of my steps made me cringe as my ruined Louboutins squished with each stride.

"That girl is clums—" Tammy tried to say, but my fiery glare cut her off.

I'm not one to be quiet when something bothers me. I turned around to face Allistair.

"What was that all about?" Anger was evident in my voice.

"Tahlia, don't," he said. It was more a plea than an order.

"I'm not letting this go," I said in a menacing tone.

"Look, I know you are feeling upset. So, we will discuss this, just not now, alright?" His calmed tone meant to soothe my ire, but I wasn't ready for that.

"You don't get to tell me how I feel," I barked at him.

"You know what I meant," he said, his voice almost a growl, catching me by surprise with its huskiness.

"Let's cool down and talk about this with a level head, OK?" he said while running his hand through his dark caramel mid-length wavy hair in exasperation.

I could see his steely blue eyes searching, begging now for a ceasefire. His stubbled jaw was clenched, while his rosy lips formed a thin line. What could I say? My boyfriend was a hot mess, and he was obviously biting his tongue back.

After a moment of silence to refrain myself from using my stiletto heels as daggers, I let out an annoyed "Fine!" through clenched teeth.

I was still furious, but I knew he was right. Damn him and his puppy eyes.

"Let's go," I snapped at the girls.

"I need new shoes."

As I fumed over my ruined Louboutins, I had no idea that the encounter with that bookish nobody was just the beginning of the end. If I had known the fallout it would cause, I might not have reacted so hastily. Yet, as I glared at her, unaware of the storm brewing, I couldn't predict she'd become the key to unraveling everything I held dear. Our fates intertwined, her presence would soon turn my world upside down, altering my life in unimaginable ways.