Sugar Love

by Andromeda

  Table of Contents

  © 2016

  © 2016

  Other Books by AndromedaLove Contract

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen – Georgia POV

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen – Alphonse POV

  Chapter Seventeen – Rosalinda POV

  Chapter Eighteen"Isabel,

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two – Rosalinda POV

  Epilogue – Alphonse POV

  Please enjoy this sneak peak of the third book of the series, the story of young Zuleikha Barakat****...

  Author’s Note

  Do you have what it takes to play AFTER HOURS? If you love to write Interracial Romance, Paranormal, ...

  ON AMAZON

  ON AMAZON…

  SUGAR LOVE

  A Novel By

  ANDROMEDA

  © 2016

  Published by After Hours Publications

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Unauthorized reproduction, in any manner, is prohibited.

  Due to some explicit scenes, it’s suggested age is 16+.

  Other Books by Andromeda

  Love Contract

  The Royal Contact: Craved by a King

  Captive Bride

  Captive Bride 2: Daughter of Sparta

  Prologue

  I never thought that I'd be a single mother, but then again I'm a single mother because of my life choices. I chose to get drunk one night at 16 and got raped; that's how I got my little girl. I chose to become a rich man's mistress because he said he loved me, but when his wife tried to kill me, I knew I had to leave; I was seven months pregnant with my little boy. I refused to just sit back and let life take the best of me, though.

  Designing. Fashion. Working with models was always my dream. When I was a little girl, I would sit in front of the TV or flip through the magazines and look at the beautiful models in their beautiful clothes strutting down the runway. I still don't understand why they have to be so skinny if virtually no one is that slim in real life.

  At a young age, I set out to fulfill my dream. With a sewing machine and discarded fabrics that my Abluea would bring home from working at a department store, I made clothes; pants, jackets, shirts, skirts—anything that could come to mind, I'd make it. Over time, I made a small name for myself here in sunny Miami, but I've always wanted more.

  Please don't think was as greedy, but with two growing niños at home, my job working as a nurses aisstant wasn't paying the bills. One day, I got the call from my best friend Georgia; she invited me to spend a week with her in New York. I tried to seize the chance to change my future when I submitted my designs to the Parsons School of Design, the biggest name in fashion in America, if not the world.

  Imagine my surprise when I was accepted; imagine my even greater surprise when I found out that the tuition was well over $38,000 a year. Guess life wants to kick me in the ass. Ready to pack up, Georgia invited me to a Masquerade Ball, where I met the most amazing man—Alphonse François, well-known in the fashion world, and he chooses me to be his sugar baby. Agreeing mainly in the beginning for my children and to go to this wonderful school, I’m surprised when I find myself falling for him, but Alphonse is as cold as ice. When I tell him that I am carrying his child...let’s just say he was less than happy.

  He told me to get rid of it but...I couldn't. I couldn't kill an innocent being, and when his family finds out, they force him to 'make things work' with me, so this is our tale; the ups and the downs, the good and the bad—you know, normal relationship stuff. Could I ever make Alphonse warm up to me? Or will life make me a single mother for the third time? Will I really be forced to give up my dreams once and for all?

  Chapter One

  The scents of grilled meats, the giggles of young children, and the laughter of talking adults fill the air at the Miami Beach. A reunion for the Domínguez family is going on; cousins hug, grandparents spoil grandchildren and love is spread all around. Family is highly valued in the Hispanic culture with weddings, reunions, birthdays, even deaths celebrated with large fair.

  One young mother watches her two children with a hawks’ gaze, making sure that no harm comes to them. Rosalinda Domínguez is a protective mother, some might say overprotective, but she has a good reason to do so. The world is a dangerous place as she’s dealt with its dark side firsthand.

  “¡Isabel! Por favor, no correr tan rápido mi hija!” she yells to her daughter, asking her to not to run so far.

  Isabel, who was running after her young cousins, stops and looks to her mother. “I’m not running that fast, Mamá!” she shouts back.

  Rosalinda puts her hands on her hips, her eyebrow arched in a look that Isabel knows all too well, a look that tells her not to question her elders. However, when Isabel answers the unspoken challenge with her poked out her lips, making her eyes large and puppy-like.

  “Alright…” Rosalinda relents, sighing heavily. “But be careful, alright?”

  Isabel nods happily before running back to play with her family. Rosalinda watches her daughter, remembering a younger version of herself, both the good and the bad. Sighing sadly, Rosalinda runs a hand through her wavy chocolate-brown locks as she goes to sit down in a lawn chair and try to relax.

  "Calmarse chica," her cousin Glenda says, appearing at her side and holding out a drink to her.

  "I am being calm," Rosalinda says, taking the offered drink, sipping it and tasting raspberry tequila.

  "You are not," Glenda laughs. "You are Mrs. Hover Mom."

  Rosalinda rolls her eyes to scoff but secretly, she knows that Glenda is telling the truth. She knows that she is a bit overprotective of her children, but she has good reason to be. The city of Miami is dangerous; you have to be tough in order to survive. Not just anyone can live in Miami.

  "I don't want them to have a childhood like I did," Rosalinda whispers firmly, watching as her son Antonio joins his sister and cousins for play.

  "No one wants to have a childhood like you did," Glenda says smoothly. "But you can't keep on holding on to the past."

  Rosalinda bites her lip lightly and turns her head away; for a moment, she is unable to watch the joy in her children’s eyes as she remembers the pain and suffering she had. Her parents abandoned her, dropping her off at her grandparents’ home when she was barely a year old. They tried to raise her right but when she turned 15, she began her rebellious stage.

  When she was 16, she went to a party and surrendered to peer pressure; drinking more than twice the legal limit, she later had sex with her then-boyfriend, but it was rape—plain and simple. She was drunk and he was not, and yet he took advantage of her. When Rosalinda tried to take him to court to put him in jail, the judge said that since she was drunk, no evidence could be found. The evidence was growing inside of her. Rosalinda was five months pregnant with Isabel and even after the DNA test proved he was the father, they still refused to charge her boyfriend, saying that she should have known better.

  Antonio was different. When she was 19, she tried to make a better life for her daughter and willi
ngly became a mistress to a married man. He gave her money, helped get Isabel into a private school, and showered them both with affection and gifts. Well, Rosalinda thought it was affection and gifts; it was just the things his wife refused to take. When the wife found out about Rosalinda, she tried to kill her. She walked in on her bathing and tried to drown her in the tube, but Rosalinda fought back and escaped. She was 4 months pregnant with Antonio.

  Now, she is finished with men—well, trying to be. The occasional man catches her eye, but when they find out that she’s 24 with two children, they normally leave. No one wants the baggage and Rosalinda doesn’t blame them, but she will be damned if she ever has to make the choice between her children and a man because she knows that in the end, she will always choose her children.

  In order to make money for her and her children, Rosalinda works as a nurse's assistant in a nursing home; she just barely makes enough money to scrape by, but she doesn’t want to just scrape by. She wants her children to never be in want, to never question where their next meal will come from. She doesn’t want to have to worry about deciding to either buy a new pair of shoes for Antonio or paying the light bill. She wants to do what she’s always loved: fashion.

  She wants to see her designs strutting down the runway at Fashion Week in Paris, or see millions of people wearing them. She’s always loved fashion and wants to do that rather can cleaning up someone's fecal matter.

  As she watches Isabel and Antonio laugh and play with their cousins, she decides then and there to do something. She is sick and tired of waiting for fate to decide what to do with them; she is going to make things happen. Little does she know that her change in fate is going to happen sooner than she thinks.

  ❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

  In the Northeaster state of New York, Alphonse François is in the middle of a photoshoot and is quickly losing his patience. He’s always been an impatient man, he’ll proudly say that, and always wants to have everything straight to the point. To him, the world is black and white; there is no middle ground possible as it makes no sense in why there should be one.

  Some people would complain about him being a bastard, which to him is nothing more than a compliment really. He wouldn’t have gotten to where he is without being a ruthless, shrewd man as that’s what it takes to survive in his line of work: the world of fashion.

  Most people might not believe it, but the world of fashion is dog-eat-dog. What is in style today will be out of style tomorrow, the names of colors are changing almost every year; even the length of your hair might be a no go. In order to always stay on top, you must be quick to adapt; always be several steps ahead. It was by using this that Alphonse built his fashion empire.

  Raised by a single mother in France, she taught him to be ambitious, hard-rooted and strong-headed. She is his rock and soul as without her, he doesn’t know where he and his younger brother and sister would be. Through her, they all became highly successful: him with fashion, his sister Lucille in modeling, and his brother Pascal being a socialite. All of them would be nowhere without their mother.

  “Mr. François?” the photographer for the shoot says. “Can you stand a little straighter, please? Thank you."

  Alphonse does as he’s told, putting a hand in his pocket as he tries to straighten his back as best he can. Standing on a white sheet with a grey backdrop behind him, he is posing for pictures that will be put into a brand new issue of Immortal Wealth Magazine while trying to keep a smile on his face—keyword trying.

  Alphonse never liked posing for magazines, sitting for interviews, and other things that a rich man is supposed to do. He’d rather be alone in his penthouse here in Manhattan, but of course he can't; he has to run his empire.

  When the photographer signals for him to step away; a female model takes his place as he walks to a buffet table and looks over the foods. All of them are French dishes, requested by Alphonse, as he believes that French cuisine is the most superior of all cuisine and refuse to eat anything else. Selecting three croissants, a chunk of chabichou cheese, some grilled ham, grapes. and a glass of wine, he walks over to a seat and sits down. Watching the models, a sly smirk forms on his lips.

  Which one am I taking home with me tonight? he wonders to himself.

  Being the boss has its benefits; a different girl in his bed almost every week is the biggest benefit of all. He is a man; he has needs and women are always there to fulfill. However, he makes it clear to them that it will only be just sex. He’s been with women all over the world, not really caring about color as long as they have a plump rear; he’s always been an ass man.

  One of the models, a curvy brunette with a nice plump rear, catches his eye. As the model leaves the sheet, she passes him and he shoots her one of his most famous grins. Heat blooms in her cheeks and knows he’s got her. Gesturing for her to join him, the model slowly sits down, crossing one long leg over another before sitting up straight.

  “How can I help you, Mr. François?” she asks a low, husky voice.

  “I can tell you how you can,” Alphonse says smirking. “In secret…”

  Chapter Two

  Rosalinda groans softly as she runs a frustrating hand through her hair. Sitting on her bed, she looks at the papers before her. Bills, bills, bills—nothing but bills. She is so far behind in so many payments that she doesn’t know what she has paid and what she hasn’t. Not only that, but Antonio needs a new pair of shoes and Isabel needs a new dress for school. Pinching the bridge of her nose, Rosalinda struggles against tears as she feels as if the world is closing in on all sides.

  "God," she silently prays. "If you are out there, please help me! This is my third month straight with being late with these payments, and it's my last strike! Please Senoir, I need you!"

  Knock! Knock! Knock!

  Rosalinda blinks in surprise, looking at the cross. Could God be knocking at my door?

  "ROSIE!!" a strangely familiar high-pitched voice calls from behind the door. "Rosie, open up! Please, there's weird people out here!"

  That voice...Rosalinda thinks.

  Getting up from the bed, she walks across the house to the front door and opens it, her jaw dropping. Before her, in a fluffy pink dress, stands her best friend from childhood, Georgia Hamilton. For a moment, Rosalinda studies her, taking in the long blond hair, the grey eyes, and creamy skin with a hint of blush on the cheeks. A short time later, she snaps out of her transfixion when she realizes that she's standing on her doorstep in the middle of the freakin’ night!

  "Gigi!" Rosalinda gasps, pulling her inside. "Girl, don't you know the weird people be coming out at this time?!"

  "I'm sorry," Georgia says nervously. "But I went over to your grandparents’ house and they said you lived...here."

  Rosalinda tries to not hang her head in shame. Georgia and she grew up on the same neighborhood but when she was 18, she left Miami and moved to New York. Rosalinda didn't know what became of her, but every now and then she called or visited, and she always looked like a million bucks—literally.

  "What brings you here, Gigi?" Rosalinda asks, picking up one of Isabel's toys from the couch. Georgia stops, staring at a picture of the kids as she smiles.

  "I came here to offer you the chance of a lifetime."

  "What is that?" Rosalind asks, tilting her head to the side curious.

  "Guess what high-end fashion school is holding an open admissions day in less than a week?" Georgia asks.

  "I...I have no idea," Rosalinda says.

  "The Parsons School of Design!" Georgia cries.

  Rosalinda’s jaw drops in disbelief. The Parsons School of Design is the top fashion school in America, if not the world. It boasts alumni such as Tom Ford, Doo-Ri Chung, and even Donna Karan! To go to their school is like going to the Olympics of fashion.

  "And that's not all," Georgia continues. "And guess who I put on their attendance roll?"

  Rosalinda’s heart freezes in her chest. "Gigi, you didn't..."

  "I DID!"
Georgia cries, clapping her hands with joy. "Oh Rosie, this is perfect! Just perfect! You can finally go and live your dream! You can become a fashion designer like when we were kids!"

  Rosalinda nibbles on her lip, thinking this over. Growing up, she always wanted to go into the fashion world and become a world famous designer. However, life got in the way and she set her dreams on hold for the sake of her children.

  "Wait a second," Rosalinda says. "When does this happen?"

  "In like a week," Georgia says. "I got your plane ticket and everything!"

  "Gigi, I can't," Rosalinda sighs as real life slaps her in the face. "I have kids, remember?"

  "Can you ask your family to take care of them for a week or two?" Georgia suggests.

  "I guess..." Rosalinda says slowly. "But what about me living? I have no place up in New York."

  "You can stay with me in my condo," Georgia says simply. "It's a two-bedroom and I have a roommate, but you can bunk with me."

  Rosalinda thinks slow and hard on her words. This is the opportunity of a lifetime; to study at Parsons School of Design is like being handed a golden ticket to Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory, but then she has her children to think about. Then again, surely her family can watch them for a couple weeks while she tries this out. She knows that she won’t be gone that long…

  Lifting her head, she offers her a small smile. "Alright, I'll do it."

  Georgia screams with joy and Rosalinda slaps hands over her mouth.

  "Chica, the kids are sleeping!" she whisper-yells.

  "Oh," Georgia says, blushing scarlet. "Sorry about that."

  Rosalinda tries not to laugh at her. The next morning, she talks to her grandparents, who agree to watch the children while she goes to New York in order to try this out. Isabel and Antonio cry when their mother leaves, but Rosalinda promises to bring them gifts from the Big Apple when she gets back.

  She has never flown first class before and is amazed by everything. When they land in New York, Georgia takes Rosalinda to her condo where she is introduced to Georgia’s roommate, Aiden Copper.