HIS PLUMPY QUEEN HER BULLY
"I..hate you" I croaked out brokenly, struggling and failing to hold back the tears spilling in waves from my eyes.
"Awwww, is my fat queen crying?" Brandon jested mockingly, laughing as if he had just said something funny.
His friends echoed his laughter, making the tears spill even faster from how embarrassed I was.
Shaking my head, I turned away from his crude handsome face, but was held back by his hands, gripping my hair painfully.
I screamed as he slammed me against the wall, feeling the metallic taste of blood in my mouth.
He grabbed my hair roughly, pressing my face harshly against the wall.
"You don't walk out till I am done with you," he gritted out, pressing his body against mine.
"Please.... Stop, please..." I cried out.
"Do I make myself clear?" Brandon snapped, his other hand gripping my waist tightly.
I could feel his hard hot body against mine, and his nails digging painfully into my waist.
"Yes," I whispered, "please let me go."
He pressed harder against my body, his hands on my waist tightening.
I could feel his hot breath against my neck, and despite my situation, my body was shamelessly reacting to him.
Loud snickers alerted us to the fact we were not alone.
Brandon released my hair, leaning away from my body, before pushing me forward.
I stumbled, nearly falling to my feet.
"Now run you fat bitch," he yelled, before laughing with his friends.
I hightailed it out of there, crying my eyes out.
Being fat wasn't a problem, her mother always told her, never failing to remind her how beautiful she was.
But for Christy Morris, being fat was a curse.
Especially since college and her arch enemy Brandon made it so.
Forced to babysit her bully and enemy baby sister, Christy's life takes an unexpected turn.
For the worst or better, was still what she was yet to find out.
Find out Christy and Brandon's story in this thrilling novel filled with...
Romance.
Unexpected twist.
And dare I say....
Love.
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Chapter 3
Before I could even do anything, strong hands were pushing my body away from theirs.
The music was slowed down already, bright lights flashing down on me.
"I am so sorry," I mutter out, dragging my dress down, before looking up.
I gasped, my heart nearly jumping out at the sight before me.
A tall guy stood there, with ripped muscles you could clearly see from the way his white shirt clung to his body.
My Gosh he was absolutely breathtaking. His green eyes were hard as he stared at me, his thick hands dusting his jeans trousers.
"O my gosh, are you ok?" Brenda asked, helping me stand up from the floor.
"I am fine," I told her, arranging my dress.
The murmuring was very obvious now, while embarrassment clung to every pore of my skin.
"I am so sorry" I told the guy I had fallen on top of.
"Should you be here?" his deep voice rang out as he observed me, four other guys flanking his sides.
I frowned, confused. Was this not an open invitation party?
"I am sorry, I didn't know I needed your permission to be here."
He chuckled dryly.
"Hey, I think we should go," Brenda whispered beside me, tugging my hands.
I glanced at her, noticing the worry on her face, before glancing at the crowd already formed around us.
I nodded my head, turning away.
"Hey..." the guy called out. "You don't walk away until I say you do."
I snickered, walking faster. I have had enough of egoistical boys.
It wasn't my fault, and I had already apologized.
He couldn't even help me off the floor, I shake my head.
A strong grip on my hands stopped me from walking forward.
"I said, you don't walk away till I am done with you."
"Oh no," Brenda mutters, while I turned, facing his annoying handsome face.
"Look here," I start, "it wasn't my fault I fell on you, and I have apologized for that. Except if you have injuries my fall might have impacted on you, then I see no reason while we are still having this discussion."
"Get over it, and mister, you are hurting my hands," I said, nodding my head towards his tight grip on my hands.
His hands tightened on mine a bit, before he released his grip dusting his hands.
"I am sure with your weight, a bone or two should be broken."
Brenda was nearly hidden behind my back.
I opened my mouth to retaliate, closing it back as laughter rang around us.
By now, the music was a slow soft hum, onlookers gathered around us as bright lights shined down on me and the asshole in front of me.
"I am sorry again but you can contact me if I injured you in anyway otherwise, you are making a mockery of yourself."
I didn't know where my confidence was coming from, or maybe I was tired of people bullying me because of my size.
I am fat so what, it's not the end of the world.
He didn't say anything, his eyes slowly taking me in.
"I am Brandon Jacobs," he said loudly, "and to show I have accepted your apology, I am specially inviting you to my vip section."
Everyone gasps, murmuring ringing out amongst those gathered.
"I am sorry, but I don't think I want to be in your presence any longer."
He gritted his teeth, folding his hands against his chest.
"Well then, you leave me no choice but to punish your friend for your mistakes."
I burst out laughing.
"What?" I asked, laughing at how ridiculous he sounded. "Punish my friend... dude who the fuck do you think you are?"
Brenda, pinched my hands hard, her eyes wide as she shakes her head.
I glanced around, noticing how silent everyone was.
What was going on, it was as if I had asked a taboo.
"I am so...sorry Brenda spoke out, breaking the stunned silence. My friend is new here, and doesn't understand how things work."
"She will gladly join your vip section please Brandon forgive us."
I open my mouth to object but Brenda shushes me, throwing me a sharp glare.
"Very well," Brandon says, before turning, the crowd parting for him and his friends to pass.
While Brenda dragged my hands, following behind them.
All this was just like high school all over again.
The main character's energy, and the followers fueling their behavior.
We got to the vip section, a small area slightly above ground.
Everyone took their seats, while me and Brenda stood there awkwardly, waiting for Brandon's permission or something.
A slim petite wannabe blonde was already seated on Brandon's laps, her eyes glaring at me.
"Brandy baby..." her tiny voice screeched out. "Must they really join our vip section, and besides, where will the fat one seat?"
I blushed hard in embarrassment as everyone burst out laughing.
"Get out," Brandon's hard voice rang out, silencing the laughter.
I sighed out, almost smirking as I breathed out in relief.
I glanced towards Brenda, taking her hands as I turned to leave.
It was better this way, I don't understand why he would even bother inviting us to his vip section, only to rudely throw us out.
"Stop..." he barked, "I am not talking to you."
I watched as he calmly removed the blondie away feeling his lap, asking her and her wannabe friends to leave his vip booth.
Blondie gasped in shock and disbelief, almost starting to protest but the sharp cold look Brandon threw at her, prompted her and her friends to leave the booth quickly.
But not before her small body attempted to push me out of her way.
Finally, it was just Brandon, his four friends and the girls on their laps.
Brenda took her seat, leaving me no other option but to sit beside Brandon.
Now what? I thought.
Drinks were passed around, the music picking up again. From here, I could see everyone on the dance floor.
"Hey.., what's your name?" the guy sitting to my right asked, slightly leaning into me.
"Christy," I told him, smiling at how friendly he was trying to be.
"Mine his Felix," he told me, extending his hand out for me to shake.
The girl on his lap simply waved at me, before focusing on whatever she was doing on her phone.
Cold hands took mine, putting a cup in it. I turned, raising my eyebrows at Brandon.
He simply struggled, motioning for me to drink from the cup he had so kindly put in my hands.
I sniffed the drink, while he watched me.
Sharing a quick glance with Brenda for confirmation, before drinking at her small nod of approval.
Tapping my legs, it took everything in me not to stand up and start dancing.
I can't say for sure how many cups of drinks I have had, but immediately I took that one cup, Brandon just kept pouring and pouring, and me, I just kept drinking.
I was drunk, and at this point, I didn't care.
Why haven't I drank alcohol properly before I wondered, swaying to the beat of the music.
I don't know where everyone went to, but right now, it was just me and Brandon sitting in the booth.
I could feel his body heat, my face heating up as I drunkenly realized how close we were.
Brandon smirked, before bringing out a rolled up blunt.
"Have you tried this before?" he asked, his hot breath tickling my neck.
"Yes," I lied, why was something I would question myself about later.
Brandon nodded, his eyes briefly glancing to my lips, before lighting up the blunt.
I watched, fascinated as the smoke blew out between his lips.
I licked mine, before glancing up, blushing at the way Brandon was staring at me.
He passed the blunt to me, while I dragged it, coughing instantly.
I tried again, this time getting it right.
It didn't take long, this time I could feel the sensation slowly taking over.
The lights were brighter now, while the music was pounding through my head.
I don't know how it happened, but next thing, I was kissing Brandon.
His shocked expression was the last thing I saw, before passing out.
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8.4
I had been locked in a freezing cellar for three days, starving and waiting for my husband, Marco, to save me.
Instead, the iron door opened to reveal his mistress holding a toddler with Marco's exact face.
Marco wasn't sterile like he had claimed for years. He just wanted my De Luca family trust funds.
With my husband watching coldly, his mistress and a corrupt doctor pinned me to the concrete floor.
"We're going to carve you up until you're unrecognizable, then throw you in the lake," she laughed.
The most chilling part wasn't the affair. It was the realization that my mother-in-law, the mafia matriarch I had served faithfully for three years, had personally signed my death warrant to save their crumbling empire.
The scalpel sliced deep into my cheek, permanently destroying my face as warm blood poured down my neck.
I had given them everything. I used my family's money to pay off his secret gambling debts and endured endless insults about being a barren wife, only to realize the entire family viewed me as nothing but a pig to be slaughtered for cash.
In the suffocating darkness, I didn't pray for mercy. I swore a blood oath.
I didn't die in that cellar. Saved by a legendary rival boss, I stood outside the Falcone estate three weeks later.
I pushed open the heavy oak doors to my own memorial service, the jagged red scar on my face silencing the hall.
"I'm afraid your plans to inherit my estate will have to be postponed," I smiled at my terrified husband.
9.7
Prostitution wasn't exactly the future Ariella pictured for herself. But a series of unfortunate events landed her in a brothel she couldn't escape. Until he came in.
His name is Killian Morozcov. He moved liked he owned the world and planted bullets in the heads of men who looked at him the wrong way. He came into the brothel and left with her, and no matter how much she pleaded, he refused to tell her why.
In Ariella's experience, she's learnt that you either stab someone in the back or they'll do it to you. Yet Killian showed her a side of humanity she'd never seen before and her defences fall, leading to a love that they both knew couldn't last.
he was an heir to a Mafia kingdom, and she was a girl from a brothel with no familial backing.
their love was doomed the moment Killian saved her.
especially since he saved the wrong girl. he'd gone to the brothel thinking Ariella was his lost sister, Stella Morozcov.
he'd been wrong and in the process of continuing his search for Stella he grew attracted to Ariella. so much that he felt that he couldn't breath without her.
Their love is built on nothing but pain and deceit...skeletons rotting in their closets. They both have secrets that could tear them apart.
But the past is a funny thing... no matter how much you run from it, it always guns you down in the end.
8.2
Five years earlier, to get her boyfriend out of a big problem, she agreed to become a surrogate mother for a rich man to get enough money. But last, betrayed by her boyfriend and best friend, and found out she wasn't the true daughter of her parents.
Last, Daphne agreed to get married to the ugliest man in Stafford City.
*
"Don't worry, I'll protect you from now on." The adorable 5-year-old Brian said to Daphne.
But why does she feel like she has known these boys for a long time?
What will life be like with the ugly dwarf husband in the future?
7.3
Jolene flies to Italy broke and desperate for a PA job. She walks into the wrong room and finds a man naked in the shower. She can't stop staring. He notices.
The interview is brutal. Two men, Marco and Enzo, tear her apart, humiliate her, and dismiss her. She thinks she failed.
Then Enzo gets in the car. It was all a test. They wanted to see if she'd break. She didn't. The job is hers.
But they don't want a normal assistant. They want control. They touch her when they want, stand too close, give orders that cross every line.
On her first night, Marco tells her to take off her blouse.
Jolene has to choose: obey or walk away with nothing.
The problem? Part of her doesn't want to leave.
9.6
Lesley Williams was once the alpha's daughter, but a fatal accident took away everything she loved. Now she's her Uncle's pet and the pack's omega, which means she's constantly bullied and abused. She's broken inside, but she doesn't want to leave her father's pack in fear of what her uncle might do to them in retaliation. Her only comfort is that when she meets her mate, he'll be able to take her away from this hellhole...
Alpha Cedrick Silver had a mate once. A beautiful omega wolf, but she rejected him. Barely surviving the broken bond, he became ruthless and coldhearted, throwing himself into building up his pack to be the biggest and strongest pack in the nation. Now he has a girlfriend, that he's content with and he does not want a mate: EVER!
But the second their eyes met, Cedrick and Lesley realized that they were fated for each other. Not thrilled about having another omega mate, Cedrick is even more disgusted when he realized that not only is his second chance mate considered 'the pack's slut', but she's also half his age.
Does he want someone like that as his mate and Luna? Can she trust him with her secrets? Can these two broken people find love?
WARNING!!
This story contains scenes of sexual abuse of a child, rape, sex, strong language, verbal abuse, extreme bullying, mental disorders, self-harm, thoughts of suicide, gore, and other offenses that might be illegal in some countries.
7.8
Seven years. That was the price tag attached to my father's life.
When my father gambled away money he didn't have, Michael Vance paid the debt.
He bought my father's safety, and in return, he bought me.
I was nineteen then. A peasant girl he polished up to look like a mob wife.
I was reapplying my lipstick in the vanity mirror of his armored SUV when I found a diamond choker tucked behind the sunshade.
It was a million-dollar piece of jewelry that wasn't mine, engraved with a date that wasn't my birthday.
That night at the gala, Michael threw his mistress's heavy fur coat at me.
"Hold this, Sarah. Jessica gets hot easily."
I stood there like a servant, buried under the scent of another woman’s perfume, watching my fiancé hold her on the dance floor with a tenderness he never showed me.
When I stumbled from hunger, he called me a liability to his image.
But when Jessica faked a crisis, he abandoned me at the venue to rush her home.
I walked to the nearest trash can and shoved the expensive fur down past the half-eaten caviar.
As the sugar from a cheap candy bar hit my bloodstream, the fog lifted.
I realized I wasn't a wife-in-training. I was a debt that had been paid in full.
I left the penthouse, the ring, and the life.
But Michael wouldn't let his property go.
He cornered me in a parking garage, screaming that I belonged to him, threatening to start a war.
He didn't expect me to be standing next to David Chen, the Underboss of the rival Triad faction.
And he certainly didn't expect me to take off my Louboutin stiletto and use it as a weapon.
"I don't love you, Michael," I said, looking him in the eye as he knelt on the concrete.
"And I'm not for sale anymore."