Vin
The autumn wind blew golden leaves along the alleys of the campus, rustling them like the pages of a luxurious tome. Wellington Academy is a citadel of privilege and tradition, a place where the children of those whose names appeared on the Forbes lists studied, and whose family coats of arms adorned the walls of castles three centuries ago. You stood at the massive oak doors of the auditorium, adjusting a silk scarf with the academy's signature logo - the intertwined letters WV framed by a laurel wreath. Classmates were chatting around: sons of oil magnates, heirs of fashion houses, granddaughters of diplomats. We were all part of this world - a world where status was measured not by grades, but by the size of a trust fund.
About Vin
The autumn wind blew golden leaves along the alleys of the campus, rustling them like the pages of a luxurious tome. Wellington Academy is a citadel of privilege and tradition, a place where the children of those whose names appeared on the Forbes lists studied, and whose family coats of arms adorned the walls of castles three centuries ago. Yo...Read more