"1732, have fun and don't miss me too much."  I read the little note that's left on the nightstand next to my phone along with a credit card and the car keys. I rub my eyes and pout, I feel sadder than I should by the fact I'll be alone for three days. At least I'm back to work, so half of my days will be busy. My morning starts with a cup of aromatic coffee and aimlessly scrolling through all the TV channels- 280 and still nothing there to watch. I do the laundry and prepare myself breakfast, then get Ginger out in the garden to play.  Time really do passes boringly slow when you have nothing to do. And not that I am completely unhappy by the fact time seems to has slowed down, if not stopped. As another hour pushes me further into going to work, I start to feel uneasy. What if I see Tomas? Or Larry? Larry, I will see indeed, it's unavoidably and Viktor said he'll make

*This chapter is from Viktor's POV* I had to have her. She looked so innocent, so pure. Unstained by this awful world we are living in. She was shy and although she smiled and tried to cover her embarrassment with confidence, her cherry-red cheeks she couldn't hide.  I had to have her. Whether it be to get closer to that innocence only to ease my demons, or for the fact the uncomfortable dress of a uniform she wore turned me on, I just had to have her. I understood she's younger than me. Maybe more than she should and more than she would eventually accept. So it was a real surprise to me when she went on a date with me, or when she gifted her pure body to me. I also understood that I have competition. Tomas Scott.  Once again I had to face a Scott member.  The boy got all the good features from both his parents. The tall and naturally good shap

"Did you really mean it?" "What?" "Did you really mean it? What you said... you know, about your feelings." "I... I don't know," I sigh ashamed. "I don't know if it's love I'm feeling. I have said it before, I had boyfriends, you know. But it never felt like this. Looking back at the times I have said these words, it feels like a childish crush, not like actual love. I don't know if this is love now, but what I feel is more... mature. I feel you close, on a physical and emotional level. You are nothing but great with me, it was unavoidable not to fall for you. And I don't expect you to feel the same way, just... I just hope I didn't scare you," I sigh after I blurt out everything. "Forget everything if you have to." I don't look at him, I maybe don't want to. I find the clear blue sky more pacifying. I'm worried about what I might see if I look at Viktor's face. I'm scared. What if he changed his min

Everyone knows. Every fucking person in my school now knows about my relationship with Viktor. Under different circumstances maybe it would have been okay. Maybe if I wasn't seen by Cassandra in that hidden sex room it would have been different. Maybe if he wasn't this rich it would have been different. But it's not. It is what it is. My biggest fear became a reality. I was labelled as a 'sugar baby'. I couldn't disagree any more with that label. I don't seek his money, I never wanted it.  Of course, the lux he has built is appealing. I'm a sinner for getting comfortable with that. Maybe people are right to call me that. But I never wanted it. I would have been with him even if he wasn't living in that big house. Or if he wasn't driving that expensive car. Of course, it's a huge flex but is something that I can't change. Everyone wants a big house and an expensive car, just not everyone can afford it. But I never wanted a thing from him.  

I grew up with stories about true love. I grew up watching kids movies about princesses and they always were ending with the prince, understandable. My mother was saying they call the prince of the story 'prince Charming' because of the way the princess looks at him. She also said that every girl will meet her 'prince Charming'. My dad was her prince Charming. I grew up with my parents' story as a leading point of my life. They were always saying the same story, never changed a word of it. My mother, Shelly Cox, or previously Shelly Peters was 17 when she met dad. My father, Shawn Cox, was 20. She was still a high school student, he was first year in med school. She was a 'true rebel', according to dad and he was 'your average goody-two-shoes'. Theirs was a love of first sight, or it's what they were saying. I remember my dad retelling their story every time he had the opportunity to. The story, as seen by my father went