Killer. Beauty. Queen

When the crowns hide the truth.

The bright morning sun streamed through her smart windows, automatically adjusting the tint to cast a warm golden glow on her beautiful face. Eighteen year old Kira Blackwood, the epitome of young affluence and beauty, awoke in her majestic bedroom fit for a princess. It was adorned with silk sheets and a flowing canopy.  The walls were dressed in  delicate colors of pastel pinks and creams, accented with shimmering gold trims. She lived like royalty.

On one wall, a floor-to-ceiling mirror reflected her image, allowing her to admire her own beauty. She also had a walk-in closet, a treasure trove of designer garments, each piece tailored by a celebrity stylist to perfection. Balenciaga, Louis Vitton, Valentino. Kira had it all! Bedazzled shoes lined the shelves, each pair more luxurious than the last. Perfumes from the world's most exclusive brands adorned a golden tray. Chanel, Gucci, Dior, Versace. A vast collection of high-end makeup and skincare products lined the table. Whatever money and influence could buy!

Everything she had was fit for the queen of England. After all, Kira was the heiress to the White hotel and billions in money and property.

She rose from her luxurious and snug bed, the silk sheets slipping off as she prepared to conquer the day. Her long, chestnut hair cascaded over her shoulders like a silken waterfall, and her crystal-blue eyes sparkled with confidence.

Delicate lace curtains framed the large windows, allowing a glimpse of the sprawling garden beyond. The potent scent of fresh flowers from the ornate vase on her nightstand mingled with the subtle aroma of her favorite perfume.

Kira, herself was not perfect. She had many flaws. First was her entitlement.

The door creaked open, and in stepped Jared, the family butler, with a warm and respectful demeanor.

"Good morning, Miss Kira," he greeted, offering a polite smile that reflected years of experience in dealing with the Blackwood family's unique dynamics.

Kira, lost in her thoughts, glanced at him with a distracted air. "Morning. What's for breakfast?" she asked, her tone edged with impatience.

"Your favorite, freshly made pancakes with strawberries," Jared replied, still maintaining his courteous composure.

"Hurry up then," Kira retorted, her sharpness on full display. "I don't have all day," she added.

Jared hid his frustration, accustomed to Kira's arrogant attitude. "Of course, Miss. Breakfast will be ready shortly." Then, he left the room.

Vanity! That was her second flaw. She could never stop looking at the many crowns and sashes she had acquired over the years.

"Miss Teen Beauty," she whispered to herself, her fingers delicately tracing the elaborate details of the sparkling tiara on display. "Miss Charm. What's next?" she pondered aloud, her reflection offering no answers.

In the midst of her privileged life, Kira grappled with her own identity. She had no real friends. All her friends were fake and they were only with her for the money and frequent shopping trips. The only true friend she ever had was Lara Adams until they fought. The room, with all its grandeur and extravagance, was a paradox—an outward display of success. Within those walls, a young girl yearned to break free from the expectations that bound her.

She ran her fingers over the awards and certificates, memories of her triumphs and the pressure to maintain her reputation. While her parents were prominent billionaires, Kira wished to be recognized for her achievements, not just her family. Fame and fortune were very tempting, but did they define her true potential in life?

She wanted to break out of the cages her father had kept her in all these years. To do something unexpected, maybe a little reckless. And become a big girl!

That could never happen with her father's watchful eyes everywhere. She always has to play the part of the perfect little princess.

With a sigh, she brushed her hair for the millionth time, preparing to face the world once again as the only daughter of wealth and status. The excitement of beauty pageants was fading, and she longed to discover her true passion beyond the dazzling crowns and accolades.

Kira descended the elegant spiral staircase. With a radiant smile, she chimed, "Good morning," in a sing song melodic voice.

As if on cue, Scarlett, her stepmother, appeared at the foot of the staircase. Scarlett's warm gaze met Kira's as she responded in a playful tone, "Good morning, beautiful. You're as dazzling as ever."

Kira chuckled at the playful compliment, shaking her head with a mock sigh. "You know, Scarlett, every fairytale says stepmothers are supposed to be the embodiment of everything evil," she teased, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "But I got lucky with mine."

Scarlett chuckled in return, wrapping an arm around Kira's shoulders as they walked together. "Well, I'm glad to hear that, darling. You make me feel lucky too."

Their bond was far from the clichéd stepmother-stepdaughter relationship of old tales. Scarlett didn't have any biological children. In Kira's life, she was a caring and loving presence, a motherly figure who had walked into her life like the missing piece of a puzzle.

Feeling an emptiness in her stomach because breakfast wasn't ready, Kira made a beeline for the fridge, her small hands deftly grasping a bottle of soda and a tempting chocolate bar. As she turned, ready to indulge, her mother's voice sliced through the air, filled with concern.

"Kira, are you planning to eat all that? You'll put on weight," Scarlett remarked, a sudden edge to her voice.

The words struck like a dart, injecting a dose of guilt that choked Kira's hunger. She hesitated, torn between the snacks and the subtle anxiety her mother's comment had provoked. Slowly, she returned the snacks to their places, her spirits visibly deflated.

"How's pageant preparation going, my future Miss Power?" Scarlett cooed, softening her tone as she changed the subject. Kira smiled weakly.

"It's going okay, I guess," Kira replied, trying to sound nonchalant. She knew Scarlett meant well, but sometimes the pressure to maintain the perfect image was suffocating. In the world of beauty pageants, the spotlight was relentless, revealing every imperfection.

Her mom dramatically raised a finger to the sky, a twinkle in her eye. "Kira, my dear, you're not just a star; you're a supernova! You're going to dazzle the judges so much they'll need sunglasses indoors."

Scarlett, ever the enthusiastic cheerleader, pulled Kira into an exaggerated, dramatic hug. "My darling, you're not just a shining star—you're the entire galaxy! And this competition? It's your personal constellation!"

She couldn't help but giggle at her mother's theatrical encouragement. "Mom, you really know how to boost my confidence."

Scarlett grinned mischievously. "Well, baby, I do have a flair for the dramatic, but that's only because I see your potential shining as bright as a supernova!"

Kira rolled her eyes playfully. "Okay, okay, enough with the heavenly comparisons. But seriously, Mom, what if I trip on stage or forget my lines?"

Or what if she comes face to face with intense murder?

Scarlett waved away Kira's concerns with a theatrical flourish. "Darling, even if you trip, it'll be a graceful stumble. And if you forget your lines, just make up some interstellar poetry on the spot!"

She adopted a mock serious expression. "And when you walk down that stage, darling, do it with such pizzazz that even the chandeliers will envy your sparkle."

She began to laugh, the nervous knots in her stomach loosening with each jesting word. "Chandeliers beware, I'm coming through with a shine that'll put you to shame!"

"Now that's the spirit!" Scarlett exclaimed, a playful glint in her eyes. "And when you win that crown, we're throwing the party of the century that'll make even Hollywood jealous. Cameras, Pictures, Paparazzi and all! Just like a blockbuster movie."

Kira grinned, feeling the mood lift. "Absolutely! Now, I gotta get ready for the bootcamp."

Little did Kira know, the pageant would be the least of her worries. Murder was knocking on her golden doors. If she refused to open, murder would break it all down. Everything!