Sage POV
"Hurry up Sage, or we're going to be late."
As usual, my mother's voice was dripping with impatience, a haughty expression on her face. I knew she was desperate to leave the hotel because she wanted to get to the grand event, to declare who was going to be the next successor of Elite Fashion. But would it have killed her to have helped with the luggage? Or even the packing? I fought back my impatience, lugging everything and joining them in the limousine, biting back my tongue as usual.
You always bite your tongue though, don't you Sage? Trying to keep the peace, trying to be the perfect daughter, and for what? So that they can trample all over you. You know they aren't going to make you the next successor. Not in a million years. They'll take your ideas without giving you cre
