Rina

Rina Zante

Fourty-five minutes ago

"We're here," the cab driver said loudly, his scratchy voice waking me up in the process.

"Oh," I muttered, rubbing my eyes to remove the sleep from them. "Grazie."

The journey to the Alpha's house hadn't been a breezy one, rather it was quite tiring considering the fact that we lived in the slums and on the opposite side of town.

"Rina," my mother called out, her tone tired as well. "Please get out the bags while I pay the taxi fare."

"Yes, mama." I got out of the car and trudged to the back to get out our bags from its trunk.

The suitcases we used to travel had nothing much in them, just a few meager clothes which was virtually next to nothing. But it was all we had in this life.

I brought out the bags, kept them by the sidewalks and waited for my mom, my eyes roving around. We had parked directly in front of the Alpha's home, a great giant wall and gate guarding the house within. A few security men parolled around, their questioning eyes every now and then, landing on me and my mom who was still in the car.

At the moment, she was arguing with the driver. "Per favore sir, collect fifty euros, instead of sixty euros. The fifty is all I have." My mother was begging. Again, yet another poverty-derived spectacle.

I sighed, my heart clutching at the fact that we were one of the poorest people in the district. Right from birth, I had grown up in a very poor family. My mother worked as a maid and my dad, a gardener until he died last year.

Due to my less standing in the society, people looked down on me, including my classmates from school. Right from first to twelfth grade, I had been the social outcast, with no friend to care or even share my plight with me. They bullied me, called me names and basically made my whole school life a pitiful misery.

To top it off as the sour cherry on top, my wolf was very weak and I was blessed, or should I say cursed rather, with a curvy body. A body that always made me feel insecure, so insecure that I wore baggy clothes to cover up. Every other person, females most especially, I had come across had a slim, toned down body, their shape like those of the fashion models.

Sometimes I wondered, why did the moon goddess hate me so much as to make me suffer this much? I have asked that question a million times, and I was yet to receive an answer.

"You have got to be kidding me! 50 euros? That ride from the slimy slums of Sant to here is actually 60 euros and yet here you are telling me you have 50 euros only? No way. Please pay me my money in full," the man ranted, his voice going higher with every sentence he said.

My mom begged again, but the man was firm. He even grabbed her bag, insisting that she pay him but I knew that that was all she had. This was pure embarrassment, the guards had even started gazing at us intently so I grabbed my purse to retrieve the last ten euros I possessed. I had worked for it last summer.

"Here." I stuck the ten euros in his face. He took it without as much as a sound and returned my mom's bag to her. I went to her side and helped her out of the car, my mom whispering a silent thank you. I nodded in acknowledgement.

When we were a safe distance away from the car, he zoomed off, shouting, "Poor slackers!"

We pretended not to take heed of his insults and proceeded to the gate. The argument had taken some of the time allotted for us to arrive.

When we were done with the necessary security policies, we were ushered in. For a moment, my mom and I stood in awe, wonder shining in our eyes.

The official pack house was huge, a mansion even. Painted a startling light yellow, it sat at the end of the pathway, a magnificent sight to behold. A fountaine stood in the middle and there was a huge pool as well by the side. Cars manned the open garage, fleets of expensive, luxury cars. All in all, the place was a beauty.

We continued walking, lost in the spectacular sight before us. When we got to the front door, a guard stationed at the door asked, "Are you Mrs. Camila Zante?"

"Yes, I am," my mom replied, nodding her curly hair that I had inherited from her. I had also inherited my hated curvy body from her as well. "This is my daughter too, Rina."

I straightened up, keeping my best smile on my face. The guard, a man who appeared to be in his early twenties, ignored me and pored through a list. He looked up again. "Okay, you're here for the maid job right?"

"Yes, I am. My daughter is working with me as well," mom answered.

Thank the goddess for this one good thing she had done. My mom had secured a job, one that would pay well seeing that we would be working in the Alpha's house. It was a great honor to be frank and looking at the environment, I was more than glad to be here.

"Alright, you may go in. A worker will be with you shortly to show you around and to your abode."

We both replied, "Thank you."

Without much ado, my mom and I stepped into what we thought was our bright future. A future we looked forward to, seeing that fate had smiled at us. But we were wrong, very very wrong. And I didn't know it back then, but that was the first mistake I made. Agreeing to live in the same house with Vincenzo, the alpha's son. And it was a mistake I would live with forever.