Six Years Ago — The Portia Residence
"There's always betrayal hiding behind respect. Loyalty—what people call agreeing with everything—is the main currency of a strong leader."
Bianca combed through Blair's straight black hair, all the way down until the ends brushed the line of his spine.
"Every human carries both femininity and masculinity," she continued calmly. "But the demands of our environment blur those strengths until we forget they exist."
She turned her only son around to face her and held his gaze. The boy with light brown eyes winced. Bianca merely smiled in silence as his defenses collapsed—his crying dissolving into quiet sobs that seeped into the cube-shaped room.
"What's wrong, Boris?" Bianca asked, still tracing the henna pattern—passed down from her grandmother—onto both of her son's hands.
"I like the name Boris," he sniffled. "Why do you write *Blair* instead, Mom?"
"Why do you like Boris?" Bianca asked again.
"People at school… everyone likes Boris."
Boris's mind replayed last Saturday—when he'd seen Artemis, her body marked with dried blood, bruises, and cuts splitting the corner of her full lips.
"After seeing what happened to Artemis," Bianca said softly, brushing a hand along Boris's sharpening jawline as puberty crept closer, "you still don't want to meet Blair?"
Boris stared at her, confused. Since when did someone willingly become someone else just to be hurt?
"You think Artemis is weak. That she can't fight back because of her family."
Boris opened his mouth to deny it—then lowered his head. His silence wasn't any different from the kids who mocked Artemis at school.
"Next Saturday's the last day of your punishment, right?"
This time, Bianca picked up the scissors—aiming for the long hair Boris had always hated. Before she could cut it, Boris grabbed her wrist.
"Just… leave it," he said.
His mind dragged him back to Artemis's glare on Valentine's Day—pure hatred aimed at him.
He needed to know why she despised his long hair so much, even after he'd explained it was a family tradition.
---
Tuesday Morning — Portia Boo Boutique
"Whoa, you're here this early?"
Sofia—the woman with the name tag behind the cashier—frowned as Cassandra Wirjadinata rushed through the glass doors.
"First day staying with the Portia family that shocking?"
"Very," Cassandra panted, sliding her cherry plum sling bag under Sofia's desk.
She straightened the two shirts she'd bought at Portia Boo after getting her first paycheck as an assistant buyer. Since the job was part-time, she'd only start analyzing sales, stock, and competitors after her morning classes.
Sofia watched Cassandra disappear behind the partitions separating the display area from the main fitting rooms.
Last night, Cassandra had chatted with customers until closing and reminded Sofia—who worked the morning shift—to check whether her two shirts were still inside one of the fitting rooms.
Did I check them already…? Sofia wondered.
She was tidying the cashier desk when—
"AH!!"
Sofia's fingers slipped off the EDC terminal as Cassandra screamed.
At one of the open fitting rooms, Cassandra stood frozen between the mirror and a long sofa—where a woman was lying down.
"Call the police! Security! She broke into the store!" Cassandra pointed at the pillow near the woman's head.
No matter how Sofia tried to calm her, Cassandra stayed frantic.
"Breaking in just to sleep?" the woman muttered, shoulder-length hair a mess, waving lazily at Sofia.
Cassandra hesitated.
A genuine Mark Ryden backpack. Adidas sneakers.
"Sorry, Cas," Sofia sighed. "I forgot to tell you… Arte's kind of always in and out of the shop."
Throughout Sofia's explanation, Cassandra kept staring as Artemis stood up—swaying slightly under the weight of her backpack.
If Artemis hadn't asked, "Has Blair left yet?" Cassandra would've forgotten to close her mouth—still stunned that the short woman's voice sounded closer to a bass than anything else.
Too low for an alto, Cassandra thought.
How does a voice that heavy come out of someone that small?
"Oh, you came from Portia's dorm?" Artemis asked casually, turning toward Cassandra—who'd been staring at her profile and lips for way too long.
Startled by Artemis's easy tone, Cassandra simply nodded.
Only after Artemis walked toward the front with Sofia—chatting about breakfast—did Cassandra move to grab her shirts.
Even at the cashier desk, Cassandra tried *not* to eavesdrop as Sofia teased about her boyfriend's brunch café.
"From his name alone, Bang Basil was born to be a food entrepreneur!"
Artemis's voice faded as Cassandra hurried outside—where someone was waiting to pick her up.
Leaning against a streetlight, Cassandra watched a BMW X1 pull up in front of Portia Boo. The front passenger window rolled down, revealing a guy around Blair's age—smiling from the driver's seat.
Apollo De Rucci. National swimming champion. First place. Never international—thanks to the will of the person picking Cassandra up.
Apollo could look sweet and polite in front of professors—and in front of the someone heading to campus with Cassandra that morning.
But behind his empathetic face, that person said, was a mask Apollo would wear for life.
"You met Artemis already?"
Cassandra snapped out of it at Blair's soprano voice—or maybe not soprano. Blair always sounded lazy.
Appearance-wise? The opposite. Blair dragged Apollo and their friends out all the time.
"She's in—" Cassandra started, but Artemis stepped out of the boutique.
She'd changed.
A satin shirt, top buttons undone to reveal a lace-trimmed cream tank top against her warm skin tone. Knee-length denim shorts. A black leather obi cinched her waist.
"You look like you're going to an overpriced, dimly lit aesthetic restaurant," Artemis said, smiling knowingly—leaving Cassandra confused for a few seconds.
Cassandra followed Artemis's gaze—sage green satin skirt, cream sabrina sweater.
"Your outfit says that too," Artemis grinned.
She tossed the same cheer toward Blair, who asked if she could skip advertising class to join Artemis's media literacy lecture instead.
If Artemis hadn't opened the back door, Cassandra would've thought Blair and Apollo came alone.
Patra Baxter sat inside—a senior with Southeast Asian features and a Canadian edge to his jaw and lips. He was part of the same volunteer education community Cassandra had joined—after someone suddenly dropped out.
Patra rode with Blair.
"Go ahead, Casey," he said, shifting so Artemis could sit beside him.
---
Five minutes after Blair's loyal entourage left, a Daihatsu Rocky stopped in front of Cassandra.
"Kak Ethan?" she asked, making sure.
"Hop in," Ethan said. "Tashi's back the day after tomorrow, right?"
Cassandra's smile faded.
Again. Always Tashi.
The worst part? She and Tashi were the only granddaughters—and only daughters—in the Wirjadinata family.
Her honey-brown-haired cousin seemed endlessly blessed. Even after losing her artist parents, Tashi legally owned the entire trust fund left by both her parents and their grandmother.
"Yeah… she's back in two days," Cassandra whispered.
Absentmindedly, she combed her dark brown hair back with her fingers.
---
Blair Portia's Room — 8:00 p.m., Same Day
Blair shifted restlessly on her back beside Artemis, who lay on her stomach in front of a laptop playing Girl, Interrupted.
Artemis's imaginative eyes were fixed on Winona Ryder—until Blair changed clothes right in front of her.
Then, shock.
A flat chest beneath a bra.
And lower—when Blair pulled off her denim skirt—
"Don't you get hot?" Artemis asked quickly, glancing at the pajamas hanging on the wardrobe door.
Blair was saved by a knock.
Cassandra stood there, inviting them to dinner.
Blair cheerfully replied they'd eat upstairs—her grandfather was still visiting business branches in Thailand with her eldest cousin.
Understanding Artemis's don't-make-a-fuss energy, Blair laughed when Artemis called, "I'm not helping, okay!"
Giving Blair space to change in the bathroom.
Cassandra frowned as Blair carried her pajamas downstairs.
"You're really gonna serve her just because she's a guest?"
In the kitchen, Odile—the maid—handed Cassandra a box of matcha brownies.
"Sorry, I forgot earlier. Miss Artemis bought these while shopping."
Swallowing her prejudice—again—Cassandra climbed the stairs.
"Um… you forgot your snack," she said, hating how curt she sounded.
Artemis smiled and took the box.
"I already told her," she muttered, amused.
"You're close with Mbak Odile?" Cassandra asked, unable to hide her curiosity.
Artemis blinked, surprised. She'd caught a glimpse of Cassandra's plain nightgown and quickly looked away.
"Odile used to work for my family too. Before moving here."
She cleared her throat—thinking of Martha, Odile's sister.
"Oh—makes sense. She did say she started working here six years ago," Cassandra replied.
"Aren't you close with her?" Artemis asked, offering the snack.
Cassandra took a piece, nodding.
"Just work talk. Service. The benefits are good—housing, flexible hours—"
She bit her lip.
Truth now—or lie until the media exposed her parents' corruption that once pressured Tashi into giving up part of her inheritance?
Artemis turned back to the movie—
"I work at Portia Boo too!" Cassandra blurted. "Family business isn't doing well, and I'm not a buyer—I'm an assistant buyer."
Artemis smiled softly.
"And… Odile introduced you to Grandpa Adrian?"
"Yeah. She even covered my coffee money. Otherwise I'd never have gotten the interview or the workspace."
"Your work ethic is impressive," Artemis said, leaning back against Blair's headboard.
"Don't let it dim, Casey. Ah—Blair calls you Casey so I—"
"That's my nickname at home," Cassandra cut in, whispering goodbye before leaving. She ignored Blair returning with a tray. Her face burned—thinking about Artemis's gaze earlier. Was it too thin?
Lost in overthinking Artemis's awkward glances, Cassandra froze upon entering the guest room. Wait… why is this room bigger than usual?
It looks custom-made.
Then she saw it.A standing rack in front of the wardrobe. A khaki vest—pale beige-gray—stained with something dark red. I've seen that before....
Her eyes drifted to the framed family photo on the drawer beside the bed.
Only then did Cassandra realize who owned this exclusive guest room.
The more she looked, the more Artemis's smile in the photo glowed—soft, happy.
So why does she live here?