 by J.J. McAvoy.jpg)
Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 116570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Stay or Run.
Royalty is not for the weak of heart.
Can they handle what is to come?
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Chapter 1
“It’s a girl!” Augusta and her husband screamed as the pink smoke machines began to suffocate us, and pink confetti came down like unicorn vomit.
And no, that wasn’t just me being negative or facetious. They had two decorative unicorn heads hanging over the sides of their brand-new mansion, spewing pink confetti out onto the crowd. Why? I did not know. When you have a third of 25.9 billion dollars, you can get mystical animals to vomit whatever you want. Maybe when the girl was born, they would have a pegasus flying over us with tears of gold coins.
That would be new. I snickered at the thought. Augusta always loved to be new and different. If she wasn’t home, she was in New York or Paris or London. Name the place, and Augusta was there, ready for the best photo and parading her life for all of social media to see. She was living the dream.
Rich.
Happily married to a handsome man.
And now, pregnant.
Our relationship over the last few months had only gotten slightly better. I wasn’t turning a blind eye to her flaws as I once had. I saw her clearly. I knew what she was willing to do to get her inheritance. I could see how badly she wanted to show me she was living the dream life, to prove she was somehow better. I still did not know why she was so competitive. I was not trying to race her for anything, and I was not trying to be better than her. In fact, out of the two of us, she seemed to be the more fortunate one. I had no desire nor cared to prove anything to her or anyone else anymore. I just wanted to be happy now.
And I was ninety-nine percent happy for her. I really was, but there was that one percent. That ugly, jealous, bitter, scared, and unhappy one percent that I never wanted to show anyone. That dark part of my mind that sat back on a lounge chair with a dirty martini in one hand and Audrey Hepburn cigarette holder in the other, judging everyone viciously and saying the word darling a lot. I would be the Grinch at Christmas—and not the cartoon Grinch, the Jim Carrey Grinch at the very beginning of the movie. Oh, I would be Miss Hannigan, the evil, hot mess of a lady who ran the orphanage where Annie lived. No. I got it now. I would be Maleficent; nothing said over exaggerated, misplaced anger was better than a half-dragon, half-witch cursing a little girl to death for not being invited to her party.
I could definitely pull that off with my Angelina Jolie’s cheekbones, a dirty martini in one hand. It actually makes more sense than that magical stuff.
“Odette? Odette?”
“Huh?” I looked around to find who was calling me and taking me out of my mental spiral.
It was, of course, Augusta standing there with a crown of roses on her head and an all-white, body-hugging gown that showed off her baby bump, calling me in front of everyone. She waved me forward.
I haven’t had enough drinks for this. I needed to get out of that one percent frame of mind. Smiling, I walked up to where Augusta and Malik, dressed in white, stood.
“Throughout my life, my big sister has always had my back. She’s loved me and took care of me more than anyone else I know. Sorry, Mom,” she said and winked at Yvonne, who just shook her head, but the smile on her face was real. “Which is why I could think of no one else to be the godmother of our child.”
Everyone started to clap. Like, just because someone wanted you to be their kid’s godparent, you had to accept. What if I didn’t want to?
The ninety-nine percent, Odette. Get back to the ninety-nine percent! My mind screamed at me.
“I bet the little girl will be just as much of a handful as her mother,” I teased, hugging her.
“That’s why you have to be the no-nonsense aunt so I can be the fun mom.” She squeezed me back.
“Yeah. Yeah. Congratulations,” I said and nodded at Malik. “I am happy for you both. Are you sure you didn’t want a boy to throw a football with?”
“I can teach her how to throw footballs too. She’ll be the first female in the NFL when I’m done with her,” he said proudly.
“Why in the world would you want that?” Augusta questioned in horror. “All those big men just throwing her onto the ground.”
He turned to the side, showing her a fake run. “That’s why we have to work on her legs from the jump. Whoosh. Whoosh. She’ll be the female Flash. No one is touching her.”
“I will show you, Flash.”
I said nothing, watching as they showed everyone their love. It made me think of—