"Dad, can I take your private jet for tomorrow?" Sara Vega asked her father Lucas Vega who pampered her to no ends.

She was after all, his princess.

It was the way he grew her up that she never knew the meaning of the word — NO.

Everything in her life was achievable — just a little bit of money, her looks, and her surname were enough.

"Sure sweetheart, but where do you want to go?" Sara smiled internally to herself it was a yes, no one ever said no to her, especially her father.

Taking off her Gucci sunglasses she settled onto the couch beside her dad "fashion week". The two words were enough explanation, why?

Thats because she was Sara Vega, the supermodel, daughter of a multi—billionaire, and heir to his throne.

There was very little Sara Vega did not have in her life, over that modelling agencies never said no to her because of the powerful surname associated with her name.

" If you need money you can take my credit card as always, ok?" Mr. Vega told his daughter and handed her the black credit card.

He knew his daughter was spoilt and from what he had seen, she did not have the best personality either but she was after all his only daughter.

The thought in itself left a sour feeling in him, but he loved his daughter to no ends and the that brought a smile onto his face but the smile disappeared just as soon as it came when his eyes settled on Sierra Vega.

His disowned daughter, one he never wanted to be associated with but what irked him the most was her face after all she was Sara's twin.

The smile on Mr. Vega's face was soon replaced by a sadistic grin. He got up from his chair and took big steps towards his other daughter.

Seconds later Sierra felt a sting on her cheeks, she lowered her lashes and stared at her father's black leather shoes " What are you doing here, being useless again? I've informed you not to disturb me." Mr. Vega shouted, while delivering another slap onto Sierra's face.

Sierra knew better than to argue, her years of existence taught her how to handle situations like these.

She kept her eyes down and replied in a small frightened voice "your food is ready fathe— sir." Sierra waited for a response but instead, she saw her father heading to the dining room where his dinner was already set out.

This was life to Sierra, an abusive rich father, and a discouraging twin sister.

She read that twin was supposed to feel connected to each other but never once did Sara show any sympathy towards Sierra or try to talk to her.

It was although Sara hated her to an extent that acknowledging the mere presence of Sierra was not worth it.

The scene which had just unfolded a few minutes ago was nothing new, Mr. Vega had two daughters both a carbon copy of each other, Sara and Sierra, but the world only knew who Sara was because Sierra was always hidden from the public eye.

she was the dirty little secret no one knew about.

To Sierra the four walls of her mansion were her world, she'd never once stepped out of the mansion in her life, unlike her sister.

Why?

Because Mr. Vega, the father of the two blamed Sierra for his wife's death. He was abusive towards one of his daughters and loving to the other.

The twins had lost their mother during their birth because their mother was not able to take in the pain of giving birth to a second child.

The younger one was Sierra Vega the second child.

Sierra never blamed her father though.

hope.

There was always hope in Sierra, maybe if she made her father proud of her someday, he would accept her too?

While Sara got the opportunity to go to a private school Sierra was home—schooled.

On Friday nights when Sara went out to parties Sierra sat at home completing her and Sara's homework.

Friends, Sara had plenty while to Sierra it was a foreign word.

A very few people knew about the twins, those who did were given enough money to keep their mouth shut.

No one in the outside world was supposed to know.

Love was something Sierra was not familiar with while her twin Sara was not only loved but spoiled rotten.

there were days when Sierra envied her sister but could she blame Sara?

she was the cause of her own life; it was as though her birth was a tragedy — a sad one.

At night when Sierra went to bed, she would pray for a better day with no beating tomorrow while when Sara went to bed, she prayed for a new car tomorrow.

They shared the same face, the same house, the same parents but they were different.

Sierra was still thankful, at least her sister did not abuse her.

Ignorance wasn't bliss it was torture but it was better than the numerous scars on her body. Finally when the day came to an end and the dishes were done Sierra headed to the basement, her room.

It was her favourite place in the house except for the kitchen.

She sat down on the mattress laid down on the floor which was her bed and finally pulled her plate onto her lap.

she was starving.

Looking down at the apple and sandwich her eyes shone with hunger, since it was Friday, she had a sandwich for dinner rather than bread and soup.

The smile on Sierra's face was way too big, she considered the sandwich a treat for herself. After a hard day or work, she loved enjoying her meal alone and all by herself after all alone was all she had ever know.