Once a bully, Always a bully

"I can't do this," I muttered, standing up

I was done. This was a mistake.

"Sit."

Her voice was sharp, commanding. And just like that, I was back in high school—back to being the insecure kid she used to torment. That boy I thought I had buried years ago suddenly clawed his way to the surface, shrinking under her gaze.

I had convinced myself that I had changed. That I had grown. That I had become someone who wouldn't be affected by Nessa Stevens anymore.

But the way my body acted before my mind could stop it—the way I sank back into my seat, avoiding her eyes—told me otherwise.

She smirked. I hated that smirk.

"Good boy," she said, leaning back. "Now, let’s talk business."

I exhaled slowly, forcing my hands to stay still on the table. "Fine."

She crossed her legs, taking her time as she studied me. "We’re getting married in two months. My father expects me to ‘get to know you,’ but honestly? I have better things to do. So here’s the deal."

She leaned forward slightly. "We’ll put on a show—pretend we’re head over heels in love. You know, the whole fairytale bullshit. We play our cards right, and once I get my name on those papers, you cause a scene. Say I cheated. We get divorced, and we both walk away happy. Win-win."

It took me a second to process what she was saying.

It was, without a doubt, the best thing I’d heard all week. Up until now, I thought I’d be stuck with her forever. Now, at least, there was an end date.

"How long?" I asked.

She shrugged. "A few months. Maybe a year. Depends on how fast we can convince my dad."

I nodded. "Okay, but—"

Before I could finish, the waiter appeared.

"Finally." Nessa scoffed. "Do you guys take an eternity to answer a customer? Whatever, just get me two plates of fried rice, fried plantains, salad, a chicken, a turkey, and a bottle of champagne. How much is the bill?"

"40,000, ma’am."

She turned to me with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. "Baby, pass me your card?"

I frowned. "What?"

She subtly nodded downward. Confused, I looked down—only to find a credit card on my lap.

What the hell? When did she even—?

Still puzzled, I picked it up and handed it to her. She smirked, swiping it from my hand before turning back to the waiter. As soon as he left, I gave her a questioning look, but she just shrugged.

"We’re getting married," she said simply. "And the last thing I need is for people to think you’re incapable of taking care of me. Or worse, that you’re a loser."

Her voice dropped slightly, eyes sharp. "Which you obviously are."

I clenched my jaw.

"That credit card is yours," she continued, completely unfazed by my reaction. "It has close to two million on it. Use it when we go out, especially when we’re with company. And for the love of God, get yourself some decent clothes."

I scoffed. "I have clothes."

She wrinkled her nose. "Yeah. Terrible ones."

I exhaled through my nose, slowly sliding the card back across the table. "I don’t need your money."

She let out an exaggerated sigh. "Ugh, why do men and their egos annoy me so much?"

"And believe me," I added, "the next time I see you will be on our wedding day. There won’t be any outings."

I expected her to be mad. Instead, her lips curled into a slow, taunting smile.

"I’m loving the sharp-mouthed version of you," she mused. "You’ve grown some claws, huh? We’re gonna have so much fun."

Then, just as quickly, her expression hardened.

"But let’s get one thing straight." She pushed the card back toward me. "I have a high reputation to maintain. It’s bad enough that I’m marrying you. The least you can do is make sure no one finds out what you really are."

I stiffened. "And what exactly am I?"

She tilted her head, feigning innocence. "A nerd. A nobody. An insecure little boy with no friends, probably never even had a girlfriend—" she smirked, "—I wouldn’t be surprised if you were still a virgin."

My fingers twitched.

"So do what I say." Her voice dropped an octave. "Because you need this marriage more than I do. And if I tell my dad you’re making things difficult for me? He’ll pull the plug on your father’s treatment. So go ahead—make your choice."

I swallowed hard.

The worst part? She wasn’t wrong.

I needed this. My father needed this.

With a deep breath, I picked up the credit card and shoved it into my wallet, keeping my gaze on the table.

Nessa smirked. "Good boy."

The waiter returned with our food, and I ate in silence, the weight of the entire situation settling over me like a boulder.

This was real. This was happening.

At one point, I glanced up and found her staring at me. There was no smirk this time, no taunt on her lips. Just… a blank expression. One I couldn’t read.

"What?" I asked, more irritated than curious.

She twirled a fork between her fingers. "Tell me about yourself."

I blinked. "What?"

She took a bite of plantain. "It’s been a while since I’ve felt pity. So go on, tell me something sad so I can feel that."

I stared at her, genuinely wondering how someone could be this insufferable.

Shaking my head, I focused back on my food, praying this dinner would end soon.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t done.

"We finished high school together, right?" she asked. "But I already graduated college, and you’re still in your second year. Why’s that?"

Something inside me snapped.

"I don’t know, Nessa," I said, voice colder than before. "Maybe because not everyone is as privileged as you? Some people have to work. Some people have to take scholarship exams over and over again because they can’t afford tuition. Some people have a sibling to take care of. Not everyone has a multi-millionaire daddy funding their entire life."

For the first time all night, she didn’t have a comeback.

Instead, she simply picked up her glass of champagne and smirked. "Mmm. Not my fault I’m lucky, nerd."

That was it.

I stood up. "I’ll see you around."

I was halfway past her when she grabbed my wrist.

"Wait."

I turned, barely concealing my annoyance. "What now?"

She held out her hand. "Your phone."

Frowning, I pulled it out of my pocket. The moment she saw it, she burst into laughter—loud enough that people turned to stare.

"An iPhone 7?!" she cackled. "Nerd, what year are you living in?"

I clenched my jaw.

"Take some money from the card," she said between giggles. "Get yourself something newer. You’re gonna be my husband. You can’t be seen with this."

Then she dropped a car key into my palm.

"Oh, and take that too. You’re not riding public transport anymore. It’s embarrassing enough that I have to marry you."

She took a step forward, close enough that I could smell her perfume.

Her lips brushed my ear as she whispered—

"See you soon… hubby."

Then she walked away, leaving me gripping a Benz key and questioning every life choice that had led me here.