Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 67080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
“She’s nothing, and you will be nothing if you don’t learn to follow my orders. Do as you’re told, Willow. Don’t ask questions. Obey me, and you and your disappointment of a sister will be just fine.”
Swallowing around the lump of fear that’s lodged in my throat, I nod. There isn’t any point in speaking anyway. Not to him, not to a person who doesn’t care about anything besides himself. I was so naive to think that by coming here I would be safe. I should have known that his corruption and power would be able to reach me anywhere… I should’ve known better.
“Make a mockery out of me a second time, and I’ll make sure you never see or hear from Ashton again.” He turns, letting the threat linger in the air between us as I stand there. I’m in a sea of people but couldn’t feel any more alone.
2
Parker
Revenge. It consumes me. It’s the pillar of life. The hate for Willow and her sister has become my newest obsession and will be my biggest downfall. It’s been festering inside of me for years, eating away at me like a cancer, but today it’s reached an all-new level. Seeing her for the first time in two years. It’s like an indescribable high.
I didn’t believe my father when he told me she would be coming here. As sick and twisted as it is, part of me hoped it wasn’t true, while the other craved for it to be. Craved to have her near, so I could punish her for what she did. I curl my fingers into my hands, the thought of being close enough to touch her has me on edge.
Watching her the last couple of days has been both torture and exciting. My fingers itch to touch her. To mark her. I want to run my hands across her porcelain skin just to see if it’s as soft and smooth as it looks. I want to inhale her sweet scent into my lungs and let it drag me under. No. I snarl to myself.
I can’t get distracted by her beauty. I need to concentrate on what I really want…really need. I remind myself that her beauty is only an illusion, hiding the ugly person inside. Everything about Willow is a facade, she’s faker than most of the girls here at Blackthorn.
Trying my best to blend in and not raise any attention, I stay in the background. Hiding my face in the few shadowy corners, this large room has to offer. I’m not used to this, hiding in plain sight. Normally, I would be the center of attention, the spotlight on me, but not today. I don’t think most people here even know who I am, not yet anyway.
As I watch from across the room, my eyes move from Willow to her father, William Bradford. He’s talking to another parent, doesn’t care about anything but money and power. I’ll bet anything his daughter being here has very little to do with getting a good education and everything to do with getting back in the good graces of the elite families. I still wonder how he got her enrolled in the first place. Why did my father let her attend?
“Dude, what the hell is wrong with you?” Warren, one of my best friends, says, as he nudges me in the arm.
“Nothing,” I grit out, but my response doesn’t match my behavior. There’s loads wrong with me, and Warren can see that from a mile away.
“Is that her?” he asks, tipping the champagne flute in his hand toward her.
All I do is grunt because she’s not worthy of any more of my attention, let alone both of ours. Warren follows my line of vision, and we both stare at her as she scowls at all the other families as they pass by. Does she think she is better than everybody here? Probably.
“She’s pretty, in a Snow White kind of way.” He isn’t wrong. Black hair, ivory skin, and ruby red lips. She does look like Snow White, and I guess that makes me her Huntsman. The only difference is, our story won’t end like a fairytale.
“Don’t be fooled by her beauty, it’s just a trick, an illusion to hide all the ugly on the inside. She might be pretty, but she’s like a deadly poison.”
“All women are like poison,” he mumbles, his face scrunching up as he stares at her more intently. Gritting my teeth, I stop myself from slugging him in the face. I have to remind myself that he is not the enemy here, she is.
My obsession with her has ruled my mind for so long. It’s hard for me to shove the territorial thoughts away, to separate me wanting to have her and wanting to destroy her. She’s not mine, and she never will be.