Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 120(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 120(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
Chapter Two
Evie
11 Years Ago…
* * *
“It happened again, didn’t it?”
I can barely look up at my dad as he looks down at me knowing exactly what happened today at school without me even having to tell him. Sometimes it’s obnoxious just how good he is at reading people. It’s not like those skills only apply to the rest of the world; they apply to me too.
“She’s just…so much bigger than me, Dad.”
“Size doesn’t matter,” he replies firmly. “The next time Becca tells you she wants your lunch, this is what you do. I’m going to show you now, and I want you to listen and do exactly as I say, understand?”
I nod and listen as my dad explains his plan to me. When he’s done, he looks directly into my eyes and smiles.
“And don’t let just anybody walk all over you, okay?”
“Okay.”
* * *
The next day at school is just like the day before. I go into the cafeteria, get my lunch—a turkey sandwich with chips and an orange juice—and just as I’m about to sit down at my table, Becca comes up to me.
“Hand it over,” she snarls with her hand out.
“This is what you do.” My dad’s words play in my mind.
Slowly, I set my tray down on the table and stare back at her and take a deep breath.
“No.”
Becca’s eyes almost bug out of her head. This is the sixth time she’s bullied me for my lunch this month, and she’s expecting me to give in like I always do.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” I reply as my heart begins to race. “I said no!”
As my dad predicted, Becca lunges at me. She’s a much bigger girl than I am, and if I hadn’t had a talk with him last night, I would have simply panicked and let her ram into me. But I remember his words and do exactly as he said.
I sidestep her, snatch her by the ponytail, and pull hard.
She yelps as her head snaps back and her legs go out from under her. A roar erupts from the rest of the cafeteria as she goes down, and almost instantly, Mr. Potter comes rushing over and grabs me by the shoulder.
“Miss Miller, what are you doing!?”
“Now, you’ll probably be the one who gets punished,” my dad told me. “That’s just the way these things shake out. But I can promise you one thing; that girl will never mess with you again.”
The kids are all cheering as I am pulled through the cafeteria, and as I glance back over my shoulder and see Becca picking herself up off the ground, I can’t help but smile. For the first time ever, she looks shook up.
You were right, Dad. You were right.
* * *
Now…
* * *
For some reason, that moment all those years ago is on my mind as I stride away from the house I shared with my father. I glance back over my shoulder at Callum to see he’s still standing in the doorway watching me go, but unlike Becca, he doesn’t look shaken up, he doesn’t look rattled; he looks completely calm as though he just won the fight, and I’m the one who just made the wrong move.
Yeah, well, I don’t think so, buddy.
So what if he is insanely gorgeous and had my heart racing the moment I saw him? Am I supposed to just go live with a man who thinks it’s okay to hold my inheritance over my head like some kind of bribe? I mean, maybe if he’d shown up, given me my money and then asked me to come move in with him.
Maybe.
But as far as I’m concerned, right now, Callum Alister is just another bully trying to get something he wants. And bullies are always used to getting what they want, and if he thinks I’m just going to bend over and give it to him, he’s sorely mistaken.
But as I march away from the house, as the rain pours down on me, an odd realization hits me: That means he wants me.
Me? Why would Callum Alister, such an incredibly handsome and powerful man, want me? I don’t know what it’s like to be a mob boss, but I’d imagine it’s quite similar to being a rock-star or a billionaire. Women must be throwing themselves at him all the time—the ones who know who he is and want to be a part of his life, and those who don’t and just find his looks and wealth attractive.
I bet he’s had models, beauty pageant winners, maybe even celebrities who would never admit publicly to being with him. And here I am, just some eighteen-year-old nobody who’s never even had a boyfriend before, never even kissed a guy before, and he’s interested in me?
“It just makes no sense,” I mutter into the falling water. But then again, my whole life doesn’t make much sense right now. I’m the daughter of a recently deceased crime figure, I have no money, no plans, and no idea what I’m going to do, and I just turned away the only man in the world who can help me.