
Tricky Fate:In Love With My Bully
Dreamer_01 · Ongoing · 100.7k Words
Introduction
Because of her father’s indiscretion, Florence dedicates her life to proving herself worthy of his love, that is, until the ruthless billionaire, whom many fear, comes into her life. Orphaned at the young age of 7, Billionaire CEO Dominique knows life is but a bed of roses. You can’t eat without toiling. Despite this admirable principle he follows, Dominique is what many describe as arrogant. He is a real-life ogre who tramples on the less privileged and anyone who tries to double-cross him. Therefore it goes without saying that when a certain young lady insults him—though unknowingly—there is hell to be paid. What, however, he doesn’t expect is to find himself falling for her.
Chapter 1
FLORENCE
The rain splattered on the sidewalk, licking up the roads and a bolt of lightning flashed briefly from the dark-night sky, shielding everywhere with light for a moment only for the darkness to return. I snuggled closer into my pillow, but the sound of the rain beating down on the old tin roof wouldn't let me sleep and I turned to the other side of the tiny bed, muttering something unintelligible. Jeezz. Goddamn nature wouldn't let me catch a breath.
I'd exhausted myself the whole day cleaning up the house and doing whatever requests my stepmom and my half-sister tossed at me and this was the time I had to myself before I had to be up by three a.m. the following morning for another round of chores. It was a fucking sickening routine, but it was my life, and there was absolutely nothing I could to change it. No one cared anyway.
Grunting, I stifled a yawn, getting out of bed to use the toilet just down the dimly-lit hallway when the sound of a door being slammed stopped me dead in my tracks. At first, I thought I was imagining it, but then, it was followed by the shuffling of feet and I could hear muffled screaming coming from downstairs. Fuck. My ears perked up and I reflexively darted out of line of sight, going on all fours to Jenny's room which was ajar. Through the slivers of moon filtering through the dingy window, I could see that Jenny wasn't on the bed and neither was my stepmom. The blanket was in a puddle on the floor, and the room I'd arranged before now looked scattered like they had both abandoned it in a hurry. Something was seriously wrong. I froze in fear, my body shuddering as a deep clutter sound–like plates falling from a rack–carried to my ears.
I could no longer hear the rain, just the sound of my heart thudding against my ribcage. Gbim. Gbim. Gbim. Steady. As if my heart were a beating drum. Noiselessly making my way to the top of the stairs, I paused, pressing myself into the wall so I couldn't be seen. From where I stuck my head through, I could make out some men in all black, moving things around the sitting room like they owned the place, their movements cold and calculated as if they had planned this multiple times before–just another routine they had to deal with.
My stepmother and Jenny were on their knees by the side of the three-seater couch when one of the hefty-looking men made a move to lift it, their backs to me. I couldn't find my father anywhere. All of a sudden, this seemed like a movie I'd seen somewhere else–maybe a spell of dejavu–but seeing it play out in my own home was beyond frightening, and my pulse escalated in a matter of seconds. My teeth clattered together, and my body grew cold with sweat. What was going on? Who were these men and what did they want with my family?
My gaze roamed around the living quarters for any sign of my father and I finally found him by the side of the front door, his body lying so still on the floor I feared he was dead.
"Dad!" I called, without thinking, sobs choking my throat. The whole room went silent, and the men looked towards the curve of the stairs where I was taking cover, the movement of items paused for the meantime. Immediately, my hand flew to my mouth, stifling my squeal, and I squeezed my eyes tight, praying inwardly that they wouldn't pay attention to me. Fuck. What if I'd made the situation worse by coming out? I should have remained in my room, taking shelter under the bed. But, wouldn't that be selfish of me? What if these men–whoever they were–were working on orders and were asked to snuff out anything that stood in the way of their plans? I peeled my eyes open slowly, half-expecting the area to be clear and I was calculating my next move when icy hands grabbed me from behind, nails clawing deep into my flesh.
"Let me go. Please, let me go!" I kicked and screamed, but my pleas fell on deaf ears and they threw me next to where my stepmother was kneeling, the floor soaked with her tears. I went quiet as my step mother peered sideways at me, shooting me a glare that could kill in minutes if it weren't for the situation. Jenny burst into tears just then, pleading with the men not to harm anyone, her ombré-coloured hair mopping the floor. In all my life, I'd never seen her so miserable–always the one dishing out orders for me to follow.
"Shut the hell up!" One of them thundered in a booming voice, and I jerked, the harshness of the voice sending instant shivers down my spine. It felt as if the world had come to a standstill, and it was just us in this room, left to our own fate. The men silently carried on with moving the rest of our properties, and from beside me, I could hear my stepmother sniffing her tears, muttering something under her breath. Probably a prayer.
Biting on my bottom lip, I wanted to put aside the dislike I felt for her and her daughter, Jenny, and tell her that everything was going to be okay. But, what good would that do? And besides, they hadn't liked me from the onset and would easily pass up a chance for me to be dead. If it weren't for my father, I would have lost my cool a long time ago. I was only keeping it together because of him. It wasn't like my father was any better than they were, but he was the only living connection to my dead mother, and I had to prove myself worthy of his love.
"Please, we haven't done anything. Just let us go. Take whatever you want, but don't take him. Please. He's all I have," my stepmother cried, voice quivering. Her body convulsed as sobs racked through her core, but she was silenced by a heavy blow across her face. My father was carelessly heaved up from the floor like he weighed nothing more than a couple pounds of meat, and suddenly, my blood started to boil, seeing him so helpless and unable to protect himself.
I didn't hold back, splurging all the curses I knew on them until I exhausted myself. "Y'all are fucking dimwits, and have to be soulless monsters who have no regard whatsoever for a human being," I spat out in distaste.
"Oh well," the man screwed his face, threatening to let go of my father from the height he'd held him. "You can take that up with my boss."
What–
Someone challengingly stepped into the room–the air now thick with tension–black boots crunching on the floor and I sucked in a sharp breath, my gaze traveling upward from those sharp spikes underneath the boots to the gray overcoat and black pants showing off chiseled thighs. They stopped at those striking blue eyes that seemed to reflect the depth of the ocean even from this distance and I swallowed, my tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth.
"Now, what was it you were saying about having no regard for a human being?" The boss asked, his stare laced with venom. He looked down at me condescendingly, his ridiculously handsome face holding nothing but pure hatred for my existence.
"I'm.. really sorry," I found myself saying, my breath caught in my throat. But, the boss threw his face away like he couldn't stand the sight of me, barking out orders for my father to be put away for good.
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