Steal my heart

Steal my heart

Juliene Ferreira · Ongoing · 148.9k Words

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Introduction

My father used me as a scapegoat and I was caught and accused of theft instead. The man accusing me has offered me a deal and the chance to get out of this mess is to pretend to be his mistress and break off his engagement. He doesn't want to get married, I don't want to go to jail, this deal will change our lives and while I sink into my role as a woman in love, the lie becomes the truth and your sweetness makes me crave more. I was accused of stealing, but he was the only one who stole my heart.

Chapter 1

Morgan

“Once upon a time, there was a beautiful woman, of incomparable beauty and perfect personality, as everything in her life was perfect, logically, the man of her life would also be, her great love, the most beautiful man who ever existed on this earth, fell in love with her at first sight and they were happy ever after and blah, blah, blah.”

Oh, I can't take it anymore.

I dragged myself home after another day's work as a nanny, honestly, I'm tired to the bone, I'd like to say that I love my life, but that's not the case. If I mention that I live in Las Vegas, everyone will immediately think of the casinos, the parties and the fun that never seems to end. Unfortunately, that's not my reality, I live on the outskirts of Sin City and there's nothing glamorous about it, it's just people having to work to pay their bills and eat, a daily struggle and the closest we can get to all the glamor of the casinos and hotels is working there, which takes all the charm out of it.

Life isn't a fairy tale and I'm not a princess.

I went upstairs to the cramped apartment where I live with my father, a troubled man who is turning my hair white with the amount of trouble he gets into.

Jeff Morgan brought me up even after my mother decided to leave one day, she hated me and my father, she would always turn up drunk and throw in our faces that she hated us, that if I hadn't been born, she could have had a better future and a whole host of other rude words. I confess it hurt to hear that coming from my mother, but I couldn't do anything about it, it wasn't my fault from the start, I didn't ask to be born. Today, I understand why she was so angry and frustrated with the life she was leading, seeing all our dreams slip out of our hands while we look on helplessly is really terrible and she probably felt the same sense of failure that I feel right now.

All my attempts to live well have been thwarted without me being able to do anything to change it, and that's terrible. I've worked harder than anyone I know, I've studied and worked, I've saved money for a long time and deprived myself of anything that would make me spend unnecessarily, I thought I'd have a chance to go to college, graduate and be someone, but even after struggling so much, I haven't even managed to take a step towards a better future, It all started when I went in search of a student loan, which was vehemently denied, even so, I tried not to let myself get down, I continued to move forward impetuously, believing that I would be rewarded for my continuous efforts, but what accompanied me was a tide of bad luck and failure, which seems to last until today.

My boyfriend cheated on me and he wasn't the only one, I'm twenty-eight and all I can say is that all men have cheated on me. The first son of a bitch did it right after I had sex with him, it was my first time and I thought he loved me, I also thought I loved him, but it was all just a cruel lie and I found out a short time later that while he was with me, she was also having sex with other girls and that they were laughing at me. Since then, even though I've been cheated on time after time, I kept trying, believing that it would be different, but it hasn't been. In my last relationship, which ended months ago, the bastard cheated on me with one of my friends. I lived with him and came home from work a little early only to find them fucking in my bed. I screamed, threw things at them both, pulled the bitch's hair and beat them both in a state of rage, then gathered up my few belongings and went back to live with my father, who, despite being problematic, is still better than any of them. That same night, while I was drinking in a nearby bar, I decided to go home and I was so drunk that I ended up tripping and falling face-first on the sidewalk, the result of which was a fractured jaw and a long time without being able to open my mouth. I spent a good part of the money I had put together for my college dream on treatment and medication, I was a chubby woman, I always liked to eat, one of the few pleasures I allowed myself, however, even this was taken away from me during my recovery time, as a result, I lost an unbelievable amount of weight, now all that was left of my extra kilos was a lot of sagging skin, sagging breasts and stretch marks.

Once again, I faced my naked figure in the mirror and felt dejected by what I saw. I never cared much what other people thought of me, but after countless betrayals, I began to question whether I was really beautiful and started to look at myself more and point out the possible defects that prevented me from having a healthy relationship that didn't end in a man's betrayal. Anyway, what the mirror shows me makes me sad and my mind screams that my body and my personality are the problem and even though I long in my heart to find love, I'm fed up with failed attempts, I'm tired of not being loved to the same extent that I love, I'm tired of feeling inadequate in someone's life, I'm tired of consecutive failures, all I can do now is resign myself to the fact that this is my life and continue working as a nanny, reading fairy tales to children and pretending that my life isn't shit and that I'm not unhappy living like this and not being able to do anything to change it.

I'm going to live my whole life like this, I already see myself as a grumpy, unhappy old woman.

I put on some old clothes with a few rips and threw myself on my bed, sighed tiredly and closed my eyes. Unfortunately, someone disturbed my pathetic moment of self-pity and I forced myself to get up and see who was knocking on the door.

The bitch who claimed to be my friend and who took my last boyfriend was standing in front of me.

What's she doing here?

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The image of her standing in the doorway, clutching her cardigan tighter around her narrow shoulders, trying to smile through the awkwardness, won’t leave me.

Neither does the memory of Tyler. Leaving her here without a second thought.

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