The sun had barely crested the horizon when Amber woke, the faint scent of rose petals still lingering in her room. She stretched lazily, her mind already running through the day ahead. There were meetings, media appearances, and endless decisions to make—but she thrived on this chaos.
Camila, ever punctual, had already gone through her morning routine, dressed in her sharp blue ensemble.
Camila: "You're late, Amber. And we have a breakfast call with the Don Homes executives at nine."
Amber: "Five more minutes won't hurt anyone." She yawned, rolling over.
Camila (sighing): "Fine. But if you miss a single opportunity today, don't come crying to me."
Amber grinned, knowing her sister's strict demeanor was both a curse and a blessing.
⸻
Meanwhile, at Harvard College, life had taken a different rhythm. Laylar, the class monitor, was busy corralling students who had been slacking on their assignments.
Laylar: "Notes on my desk! NOW!"
April and her friends muttered excuses, but Laylar wasn't having it. She counted down loudly, her tone leaving no room for argument.
April (whispering): "She thinks she's the teacher or something."
Laylar: "Five… four… three… two… one… ZERO!" She slammed the desk, sending papers fluttering. "Still haven't submitted? Face Miss Theresa's wrath, fools."
Amber's childhood friend, Ivy, laughed softly in the corner. "Some things never change, huh?"
Amber (thinking): She's as stubborn as ever… reminds me why I stayed away from campus drama.
⸻
At Gareth Mansion, the sisters were already in high gear. Breakfast was a whirlwind of discussion: campaigns, schedules, and strategy.
Elsa: "Girls, remember, today is important. Don't just think about appearances. Think about influence, connections, and reputation."
Amber: "Don't worry, Mom. We've got it covered."
Camila, scanning through her emails, added, "And we need to keep an eye on Donald. He's more interested in evaluating our personalities than our numbers."
Amber (smirking): "Then let's make sure he notices exactly what we want him to notice."
⸻
The drive to the corporate headquarters was punctuated with Amber's casual chatter and Camila's calculated observation of the city streets. By the time they arrived, whispers and glances followed them like shadows.
Employees couldn't help but stare. Amber's curves, Camila's poise, their combined presence—it was impossible to ignore.
Employee 1: "It's them again… the Gareth sisters."
Employee 2: "And they're flawless. Every single time."
Amber walked past without looking back, her heels clicking against the marble floor like a metronome marking the start of another high-stakes day.
⸻
In the conference room, the Don Homes team was waiting. Donald himself rose as Amber and Camila entered.
Donald: "I must say, your presence alone commands attention. Let's get down to business."
Amber immediately took control, projecting slides, outlining figures, and answering questions with precision. Camila supported her seamlessly, correcting minor oversights and providing alternative strategies when needed.
By the end, Donald and his team were visibly impressed.
Donald: "Your preparation is commendable. I wasn't expecting such thoroughness from young leaders."
Amber allowed a slight smile. "We're always prepared. Surprises are for amateurs."
Camila leaned back, whispering to Amber, "See? They're eating out of our hands."
Amber laughed quietly. "Just how I like it."
⸻
Later, during a brief break, Amber spotted Carie and Beverly waiting outside the building.
Carie: "Amber! Camy! Fancy seeing you here."
Amber: "Carie! Beverly! What a surprise. Are you here together?"
Beverly: "Yes. Carie insisted we stop by."
Amber noticed the subtle tension in Carie's expression—she was trying too hard to match the sisters' aura of calm. Amber's lips curved in understanding. Some people carried anxiety like armor; she had learned to read it instantly.
Camila: "Nice to see you, Carie. How have you been?"
Carie: "Busy! Mom keeps telling me to behave, though. You know how she is."
Amber smiled. "Don't worry. We've mastered handling family advice. Mostly."
⸻
Meanwhile, in Wilson Mansion, Elsa and Harrison were plotting.
Elsa: "Harrison, I've sorted through the profiles of eligible women. We need someone extraordinary for Alex. Someone ambitious, composed, and from a respectable background."
Harrison: "Agreed. But she must also be someone he can connect with. If he's forced, it won't work."
Elsa: "I know. But we have options. The top candidates are from influential families and are already accomplished in their own right."
Harrison: "Perfect. But we have to time this carefully. Alex is… resistant. He won't agree easily."
⸻
Back at the spa, Amber and Camila settled into their treatments, letting the world fade away for a brief moment.
Amber: "Do you ever wonder if all this—the meetings, the media, the pressure—is worth it?"
Camila: "Always. But I've realized it's not about whether it's worth it. It's about who controls the game."
Amber smiled. "And we do, don't we?"
Camila: "Exactly. Always."
The calm was broken by Carie's voice again.
Carie: "Amber… Camy… can we play a game before leaving? Something fun?"
Amber laughed, "Why not. We've earned it."
⸻
By evening, the sisters returned home, the city lights reflecting off their mansion's marble floors. Amber's mind drifted to the day's events—the meetings, the subtle power plays, and Donald's lingering gaze.
Amber (thinking): The world thinks it can define us, but they have no idea what we're capable of.
Camila (thinking): Every step we take, every decision we make—they notice. And we'll make sure they never forget our names.
The night settled in, quiet yet heavy with anticipation. For Amber and Camila, today had been a reminder: influence, power, and ambition were theirs for the taking—but the game had only just begun.