All Chapters of HE WANTS ME; A dark, mafia, stepbrothers romance : Chapter 1 - Chapter 5

KALE’S POV:Some days feel like the end of my life. I'm not talking about suicidal thoughts or anything too dramatic. I'm talking about every force, physical and spiritual, conspiring together to push me off the cliff.Am I miserable? Yes.Do I think everything happening to me is unfair? Yes.Do I curse the universe sometimes? Yes... Actually, I curse it every time for being so damn partial....Yet I don't really hate my life.I don't know why. I should. Hell, the universe wants me to.Like the situation at hand right now."Mr. Vance, this call is to inform you that we will be freezing your account and you will not be receiving any future loan disbursement."I let go of the shirt I was holding and grabbed my phone from the table. "What? Why? You can't just freeze my account.""Your student loan account is two months past due. Your interest is increasing, and you have not paid anything."Fuck. I stared at the clothes I was packing into my luggage. I was supposed to pay a down payment

KALE'S POV: I never once hated what I did to survive. As long as no one was harmed because of my decision and my conscience wasn't beating me up, it was enough for me. No matter how degrading it might be, if it provided for my every need, then I wasn't complaining. Being a stage performer for a private entertainment club had its perks and downs. Sometimes I didn't like complaining, knowing I had it better than most. I was no escort. That's not me insulting those in the escorting business, just sharing my relief at not being vulnerable and out of danger. We, stage performers, were protected by the rule: look, but don't touch. I was an object, except I breathed. A moving, beautified object for the wealthy to feast their hungry eyes on. Their gazes spoke volumes of the immoral and deceitful thoughts running miles around their minds. Some even licked their lips like they could taste the sensual energy being released in the expensive room. While it felt humiliating to me, baring my b

KALE'S POV: This is a question, okay? I'm not projecting my hatred at all. Why does the wealthy engagement party feel like a burial ceremony? Since stepping foot into the reserved hall, glittering with ornament and designs that reflected on the marble floors, towering chandeliers, and high ceiling, I'd been overwhelmed with sadness. Or probably because you're sad your mum is getting married into the group you solely hate, my thoughts chimed in uninvited. I mentally rolled my eyes. So maybe yes. I hate this. But I don't hate my mum getting married. She can get married to anyone—even a con man—and I won't blink an eye. Anyone but the wealthy elites. Everyone looked annoyingly good, walking and mingling around as though they owned the room. But it felt fake... to me, at least. The smiles and false compliments made me nearly throw up. Standing in the shadows, I glanced around the room, searching for the main guests. I contemplated calling Mum to let her know I was here, but nahhh.