Chapter 1: A New Life, Difficult but Happy

Daisy.

"Daisy, your next tennis lesson is in two hours. You can rest in the staff room for now," said Stefany, the new head of staff at Green Villa, a social club for millionaires and celebrities.

Three years ago, my family was one of the most prestigious members of the club. But after our destruction, bankruptcy, and the disgrace caused by Vermont and his illegal actions, everything went up in smoke.

Thanks to my nanny, Milly, and the little I salvaged from my old life, we had enough money to buy a small house on the outskirts of Edinburgh, Scotland. This was far from London, where news of the destruction of the Lascalles family was still prevalent. My father, Nanny Milly, and I were able to start a new life. My father was a vegetable, and my poor nanny took care of him. Despite the hatred I felt for him and all he had done to make my mother and me suffer, I couldn't abandon him when William ran away and Vermont was sentenced to twelve years in prison, reviewable after eight. Despite everything, he was still my father.

I knew it was because of me that Nanny Milly agreed to take care of the once-proud, elitist Lord Lascalles, and she did so for the first year and a half. But, as we both knew, for my proud father, being treated like a baby—being bathed, having his bowels cleaned when he couldn't control them, and being fed while paralyzed and able to move only his eyes to ask for help—was too much. He clearly let himself die. Six months have passed since I buried him. As I expected, my feelings about his death were only of relief, though it may seem that I am a monster. I did it far from my mother's grave, of course, just as my mistress asked me to, because, as she said,

"He already made her suffer in life because of this damn demon. Let your mother live her other life in peace, my dear Daisy." I couldn't refuse that request. I had fulfilled my duty as a daughter, even though he hadn't been a good father—or even a father—or kind or loving.

I was finally free from the Lascalles family's bonds. Now, I could live my own life. That's what I tried to do. As I had expected, Milly's savings after buying the house were greatly reduced. The little money I made from selling my designer dresses, jewelry, and handbags was barely enough to support us and pay for my studies. I wanted to give up, but my serious and somewhat angry nanny, Milly, wouldn't let me.

"Never. That is your future. You must continue studying economics so that you can carve out a career for yourself in the future, especially now that there is nothing left," she said with a seriousness I had never seen before.

So, after discarding my spoiled, rich-girl attitude, which was of no use to me in the real world, I started looking for a job to help us get by while I finished my studies. At first, it was difficult because, as the former heiress of an elite family, I hardly knew how to do anything. Without experience, no one was going to hire me.

But an opportunity came to me by chance when I least expected it. I was reading the new job offers that had come up that day on my cell phone in a café in the center of Edinburgh. Just then, a familiar voice caught my attention.

"Are you Miss Daisy Lascalles?" I looked up and saw a face I hadn't seen in years.

This time, the woman in front of me looked terrified and anguished as she cried. Meanwhile, her friends—a bunch of pigs—and my bastard brother, William, were touching her in a disgusting and brazen manner and harassing her with obscenities around the tennis court where I was training at the Green Villa Club in London.

Thanks to my intervention, which involved recording them with my cell phone, she was able to flee after being released abruptly. However, as always, my actions had consequences. My furious brother ordered that I be locked in my bedroom without food or drink for the next three days. I did not fall ill during those days only thanks to my beloved nanny, Milly, who sneaked food and water into my room at dawn.

"Are you Stefany Brown...?" I began to say hesitantly, thinking I recognized her. She interrupted me and confirmed it.

"Stefany Brown? Yes, I am," she said, smiling as she stretched out her hand to shake mine. "It's a surprise to find a Lascalles here in Edinburgh. Are you on vacation, Miss Lascalles?" she asked, still smiling and apparently without malice.

Since my family's resounding fall, many of our admirers disappeared, and some, like my friends in Vermont and William, went from false admiration to genuine contempt. I was met with more and more blatant looks of disgust and mockery. Some even offered to take care of the poor heiress in disgrace in exchange for sleeping with them. That's why I fled London for Scotland. Many of my brothers' acquaintances and supposed friends didn't usually go there, motivated by their own elitism, or so I thought.

But Stefany's smile was sincere and friendly, so I offered her a seat next to me and invited her to have coffee with me. Soon into our conversation, she expressed her gratitude for saving her that time. She also told me that she had found out what had happened to me some time later when she was transferred, at her own request, to the club's other headquarters in Edinburgh. She had heard about William's reaction to my helping her and his taking revenge for my interference.

I told her about my family's situation and my need to find work due to my lack of experience and my general lack of qualifications other than being a wealthy heiress. I told her about the difficulties I had encountered. I don't know how I was able to open up so easily to a stranger, but I soon found myself telling her all my troubles over a cup of coffee. I almost jumped out of my skin when she asked me excitedly, as if she had just realized something, "But weren't you the one who won the Green Villa Club's amateur tennis championship against other clubs three years in a row? I seem to remember that you won the first one when you were only sixteen," she said, looking at me with a smile.

"Yes, of course, but they were amateur championships. You didn't earn much from them. At almost twenty-one, entering professional competition is impossible. Of course, I'm not that good. I'd be just another face in the crowd," I said wearily, faced with such a bleak future. Little remained of the savings we had put aside; almost all of it had been consumed by my father's illness.

"Yes, but you could be a tennis instructor. There are many newly rich people at the club—and others who aren't so new—who would pay well to be taught or to have their children taught, or to be prepared to compete." Besides, you know their world very well and would know how to deal with them since you know what they want or are looking for," Stefany said with a twinkle in her eye and a splendid smile as if she had discovered a solution to her own problems.

"Yes, but what club would hire me without wanting to know my past? I have no experience as a tennis coach," I said uncertainly.

"It just so happens that I'm the head of staff at the Green Villa Club in Edinburgh, and I'm the one who does the hiring. Right now, I need a new tennis coach. More importantly, I've owed you this for years. So, without further ado, Daisy Lascalles, will you accept the job as instructor at the Green Villa Club? I can assure you that the financial conditions are unbeatable, and the tips that those generous and wealthy members leave you are entirely yours," said the woman who would be my first and true friend from now on and forever.

That's how I started working as a tennis instructor. I've been in this position for a year and a half. The truth is that things are going well for me. I've become well known among the regular members, and the tips are generous. I realized that I had to play the role of a rich, elitist heiress again to deal with my demanding, millionaire clients. It's an attitude I thought I had overcome. Of course, the tips and personalized training sessions increased my workload so much that it was sometimes exhausting. Today, my dear, controlling Stefany reminded me to rest in the staff room until my next class so that I could prepare for my macroeconomics exam in two weeks.

As I ate and reviewed my notes, I had no idea that my past would return to haunt me in an hour, as it did three years ago. This time, it would give my life a new direction and goal: revenge.