All Chapters of BILLIONAIRE'S PLUS-SIZE OBSESSION : Chapter 391 - Chapter 400

We stepped out of the mall like survivors of a fashionable war zone, hands full of glossy shopping bags. The girls had made me try every famous brand. My size was the only thing that saved that card from being milked dry. If I had been slender, I’m sure their mission would’ve been accomplished. Leo had changed my entire wardrobe days ago, and now I was buying these expensive outfits. I wondered what he would think of me. Greedy… I pushed on as the evening air brushed against my face, cool and grounding after hours under bright lights and mirrors. I adjusted my grip on the bags, already wondering how we were going to fit everything into the car. That was when I saw a man standing a few feet away, waving enthusiastically. He looked neat—nice haircut, dark suit, tablet tucked under his arm, phone in his other hand. He smiled like someone who had been waiting. Is he waving at me? I didn’t have a free hand to wave back. Before I could say anything, Angela spoke. “

“Angela, can we change seats?” Emma asked. “Bitch, sit your flat ass down there,” Angela replied. I smiled awkwardly. “You could’ve fought for that seat before now, Emma. I wonder what’s on your mind. You want to take advantage of the mall space and make a move on Charlotte?” Emma chuckled. “What… no… of course… I won’t make a move on her. I will seduce her!” “Seriously, Emma, stop teasing me,” I said this time. Angela laughed. “I can see Charlotte is tired of you already.” “I am serious about it!” Emma replied. Olive shook her head. “Angela, do you know that before now, these two had a very tough grudge? And suddenly Emma is obsessed with her.” “What? That’s interesting. What happened?” Angela said. “I gave no permission to talk about my private life, Olive,” Emma warned. “Emma did something bad at the pool party we were invited to. She flirted with Charlotte’s boyfriend and caused a scene. Charlotte, being overwhelmed and embarrassed, ran away and almost got seriously

They were sexualizing him. Reducing him to a torso, a mask, a fantasy. He loved music—that’s why he made music—but they hardly appreciated that talent. If they were this crazy with his face covered, what would happen if he revealed it? Only a few comments were about the music. “Well, that’s what happens when you show off your body like that!” I mumbled. Why wasn’t he wearing a shirt? Not like Hawaii is that hot. That island is very breezy. He was trying to get fans’ attention. He said he would call me when he got to Hawaii, and till now, he hadn’t called or texted me about anything. I thought he might still call to check after a huge amount of money was withdrawn from his bank, but he didn’t. And now… only for him to fat-shame me on a live. I’m not dating any fat Charlotte, huh? Did he really have to say it like that? “Here you go,” the bartender said, interrupting my thoughts. I thanked him and returned to our table. “You’re back, Charlotte. Wow, that’s a strong one,”

I took a few more glasses of cocktail before staggering to the dance floor. The bass swallowed me the moment I stepped onto it. I called for Emma and Angela to join me, but they looked at me like they were witnessing a burial—somber, worried. A sharp pain cut through my heart knowing they probably felt bad for me. But I didn’t want to care anymore. Why can’t I be like other people who don’t get hurt so easily? I can’t keep being this pathetic and weak. I shut my eyes, opened them, and then I danced. I danced like never before. I let myself go. I didn’t care about morals or embarrassment. I danced like a free bird, like I had nothing left to protect. My hips moved with the rhythm, my arms loose, my head thrown back as the music thundered through my chest. Each beat drowned out a thought. I threw it back, rolled down, even did the splits. My dancing drew attention—I could feel eyes on me. I didn’t care. I kept going even as my head began to ache. Soon, someone joined me—a guy I

I sighed after a while. Then I stood up and shuffled into the bathroom, blinking against the bright light. My reflection looked rough—puffy eyes, smudged mascara, my curly hair doing whatever it wanted. I stared at myself for a moment, then sighed. “You did it,” I told my reflection. “Good job.” The shower helped. Warm water eased the tension in my shoulders and washed away the heaviness clinging to me. I took my time in the bathroom. By the time I came out, wrapped in a towel, my head hurt less and my stomach had started growling loudly. The door opened again, and Angela entered. "Did you hear the scream?!" she asked. I paused, concerned. "What scream?" "Emma’s scared after I told her you love her as a sister," she said, laughing. "You really like to push Emma," I said, shaking my head. "She does the same to me… we fight all the time. But we love each other." I knew. I smiled back at her. "I envy your relationship with Emma, but don’t push my buttons, please. I’m not