Bred By My Billionaire Boss

Camila

I did foolish things just to get the chance to gaze upon him, yet he treated me cruelly.

I was so smitten with him that I ditched the bus and sprinted to school, my heart racing with excitement.

I couldn't bear the thought of waiting for the bus to crawl along its route, wasting precious minutes. I had to see him, and I had to see him now! 

I ran as fast as my legs could carry me. I could almost see him standing at the stairs, his clique surrounding him. My infatuation had taken hold, and I was helpless to resist its pull. 

I was breathless, my entire nervous system disorganized; I had sprinted all the way to school.

My lungs ached, but the sight of him, Stefano, was worth any discomfort. As I approached the school, my heart pounded, simultaneously performing rounds of somersaults. I longed to see him. I had to see him. I just couldn't resist. It was as if I were being pulled by an invisible string.

School was the only place where I could escape the confines of my room. But it was also a place where I could find him, Stefano, the only figure who had captured my imagination. 

I arrived at school, and began strolling through the hallway.

Then, I caught a glimpse of him.

A whoosh of air swept through my lungs, my chest rising.

Him!

Stephano!

His name ruled my thoughts.

There he was, standing by the stairs, surrounded by his usual entourage. His dark blonde hair, a tousled mess sat atop his head, framing his sharp jawline. 

His shoulders? They were sculpted by the immaculate one herself, The Moon Goddess.

His lips moved apart, a hearty laugh escaped them.

My, those lips! 

My ovaries quivered, my heart racing.

I took cover behind my locker. 

I stole another glance through the gap between the lockers.

From a distance, I could hear laughter. But it didn't at all sound like his, so it automatically faded into the background. I refused to listen to them. My eyes, ears and thoughts were fixed on him alone.

His head was thrown back in laughter, a gesture that sent the fluttering butterflies straight to my stomach. Even from this distance, I could see the glint in his piercing blue eyes, the same eyes that never once spared me a glance.

My own gaze flickered downwards, a blush creeping up my neck. I could stay here all day admiring him like some lovesick fool. 

Around me, the morning rush was in full swing. A gaggle of girls in matching jackets squealed their way past, their perfume constricting my lungs. 

Heavens!

A senior boy, muscles straining under a too-tight t-shirt, swaggered by, earbuds jammed in his ears and a scowl on his face.

My eyes returned to him, Stephano, and my lips curled upward. He was worth every bit of the struggle. The early mornings, the missed bus rides, the aching lungs - all of it was worth it just to catch a glimpse of him. He was more than just a pretty face; he was a masterpiece, a creation of the moon goddess herself. I whispered a silent prayer of gratitude, thanking her for gracing my eyes with such exquisite beauty.

Stephano was a wonderful sight!

As I continued to watch Stefano dreamily, my mind, sighed dramatically. 

"Seriously, Camila? Why do we keep doing this?" she whined. "Running to school, skipping the bus just to drool over him? He's not worth it."

I gasped. "Don't you say that!" I protested. "He is worth it."

Huffing, she countered, "He's a jerk who bullies people! He doesn't even know you exist."

"But...but..." I stammered, trying to find the words to argue.

"He's not worth all this trouble," she insisted. 

I sighed, ignoring her jabs. 

How could I possibly explain how this man affected me?

"Maybe he's like a shiny object," she suggested. "You see it, it's pretty, and you want it. But once you have it, you realize it's not worth all the effort."

I laughed. "He's just so..."

"Hot?” She finished.

I blushed. "Maybe.”

"Just look at him," I whispered, my voice a little above a whisper. "His arms, those eyes..." I trailed off, losing myself in his being.

My mind snorted. "And don't forget those lips. Babara- proclaimed lips," she chuckled.

I rolled my eyes. "He's just so perfect."

"Perfect?" My mind scoffed. "Remember when he was making out with Barbara yesterday?"

My cheeks flushed. "That was different."

"Sure, and I'm a unicorn," my inner self retorted. "He's a player, Camila. He will never be interested in you."

"But he's so...," I tried to find the right word. "Mysterious. Intriguing."

She snorted again. "Yeah, mysterious like a black hole. You know what's mysterious? Why do you keep drooling over him, even though he clearly doesn't know you exist!."

I sighed. "I just can't help it. He's like a drug. I'm addicted."

She shook her head. "You're delusional."

"Maybe," I admitted. Stefano was more than just a crush. He was a fantasy, a dream that I couldn't let go of.

"He's just so perfect."

She sighed. "You're hopeless."

I ignored her and continued to stare at Stefano. He was the most beautiful boy I had ever seen. His smile, when he finally turned to look at his friends, lit up his entire face.

"He's like a Greek god," I murmured.

My inner self spirit snorted. "More like a Greek Adonis. All looks and no substance."

I ignored her. "I just wish I could be with him."

My inner self laughed. "You'd regret it."

I pouted. "You're no fun."

I wanted to be with him, to be loved by him. But I knew it was impossible. He was out of my league, a star I could only admire from afar.

As my mind continued to scoff at my delusion, Barbara, with her built-in cheerleader uniform, sauntered, pranced, catwalked, swayed, you-name-it, into view, her blonde hair bouncing with each step. My heart sank. I knew what was coming.

"Look," my inner self spirit said, a smug grin spreading across her face. "It just keeps getting better."

I gasped, the breath knocked out of me. Barbara was heading straight for Stefano, her hips swaying with rhythm. She was smiling, a wide, seductive grin that I'd seen countless times before.

My heart sank.

Barbara was beautiful, popular, and everything I was not. And she was with Stefano, the very one I'd been secretly pining for.

When she reached, she practically leaped into his arms. Her laughter sounded like a nail dragged against a chalkboard.

She wrapped her arms around him, her head resting on his shoulder. Stefano wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer, their bodies pressed together.

Stefano's eyes lit up, his smirk widening. He buried his face in her neck, peppering kisses over it. Barbara giggled, her voice a high-pitched squeal that pierced through the noise of the hallway. 

My heart squeezed, and my stomach burned.

I rolled my eyes. “Look at her. Throwing herself at him like a rabid dog."

Barbara was being a lot over the top. She was doing too much. My heart continued to squeeze with jealousy. I wanted Stefano to look at me like that, to desire me the way he desired Barbara.

A far dream was what it was; Stefano was way out of my league. He would never look at me, not if I continued to exist in this body.

"He seems receptive to it," My mind observed.

I defended him. "It's not his fault. Barbara is just...well, she's Barbara."

She snorted. "Yeah, she's a total drama queen. Accepted. But, he's literally, kissing the hell out of her, you’d think she's air, gripping her bum, fondling her shamelessly. Yet, you keep saying she's throwing herself at him? Please."

My cheeks burned. Stefano was clearly enjoying himself with Barbara, and the thought made my heart tighten even further.

The bell rang, echoing through the hallway, snapped me out of my spiteful thoughts. I watched as Barbara, her face flushed and her eyes shy, tore herself away from him. 

Thank goodness, he finally tore his lips away from her. My heart leaped in excitement. But this was only short-lived. My eyes fell on his hands, still lingering on her waist. My heart pinched.

A dose of jealousy shot through me as I gathered my books. I gritted my teeth in anger. It was hard not to care, when she seemed so effortlessly happy.

I couldn't consume anymore of this sight.

“Time to focus on the important stuff. School.” I muttered to myself. 

Deep down, I knew that declaration was pure hogwash. 

Stephano was synonymous with the word “important” in my Thesaurus.

I had five classes today, so I decided to carry all five of my textbooks to class. I hated the return trip to pick up a textbook.

Chemistry, my first class of the day, was held up the stairs. The very one Stephano stood against. 

The mere thought of it gave me the chills.

“I can do this. I can walk past him. I can.”

Taking a deep breath, and exhaling, I forced myself to move. My escape route was carefully planned – two left turns, a quick duck through the art room door, and then freedom in the Chemistry laboratory. Just a few more minutes of this madness, and I could finally breathe. It wasn't the trek up the stairs that made it difficult. It was him.  

My mind was racing with another, more pressing concern. Stephano was just a few yards ahead of me, and I knew I was getting dangerously close to his scent. The last time I had walked past him, My mind had to remind me to breathe, so overwhelmed was I by his drugging scent.

I tried to ignore the pull of his scent, focusing on the stairs ahead. "Don't look, don't look," I told myself, but it was easier said than done. I was so careful not to glance in his direction that I almost tripped over my own feet.

As I placed my foot on the next step, I lost my balance and fell, the textbooks I was carrying scattering across the floor. I landed with a painful thud, my head hitting the ground hard. The world seemed to slow down as I fell, my heart pounding in my chest. I braced myself for the impact, but nothing could have prepared me for the pain that shot through my body.

I lay on the ground, dazed and confused. My head throbbed, and my ankle ached. I tried to sit up, but the pain was too intense. I groaned, my voice muffled by the ringing in my ears.

A shadow fell over me, and I looked up to see Barbara kneeling beside me. Her face was pale.

"Owww! Owww! Owww!" she screamed. "My foot! Oh, Steffy, my foot!"

In my mind, I rolled my eyes. "Steffy?" I thought. "Like seriously? Was that the best she could come up with? Stephano allowed this?"

As I lay there reeling from the pain, I noticed one of my textbooks lying on top of Barbara's sneakers. It really couldn't have hurt that much, I thought. Why was she being so dramatic?

I raised my gaze to meet Barbara's, bracing myself for the torrent of insults, and that was when my eyes met Stephano's. 

As predicted, I lost the ability to breathe. 

I was still on the floor, gawking at him like a lovestruck teenager.

“Stop gawking! And breathe, Camila. Breathe!” My mind urged me.

My mind managed to get through to me. I tore my gaze away from Stephano and focused on getting up, but I failed again.

“I’m so-”

I had barely finished apologizing when Barbara whined. “Steffy, the fat freak hurt my foot!” 

I could see Stephano, Steffy to her, always Steffy to her, narrowing his eyes, his attention shifting toward me.

“Steffy, it hurts. Get her away from me!” Barbara continued, obviously faking the pain.

“Get up.” Stephano said, tightly.

I was frozen, my mind barely processing the situation. The word “ fat freak” echoed in my head, but it felt distant, like it wasn't meant for me, even though I knew it was. I couldn't even react to it; fear had its claws too deep in me.

“Get the book away from her feet,” Stephano ordered.

My hands trembled as I reached down, carefully lifting the book away from where Barbara had kicked it. I wished I could disappear, melt into the floor, anything but be there in that moment.

Then came the command that made my blood run cold. 

“Kiss her feet.”

I hesitated, hoping I’d misheard, but the look in Stephano’s eyes told me I hadn’t. 

That was the beginning of the horror I would face in his hands.