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BITTER PRINCE | A DARK COLLEGE BULLY ROMANCE: HEIRS OF HAVOC

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by Winters, Vanessa




  BITTER PRINCE | A DARK COLLEGE BULLY ROMANCE

  HEIRS OF HAVOC

  Vanessa Winters

  Contents

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  Blurb

  1. Brooklyn

  2. Jude

  3. Lila

  4. Margeaux

  5. Brooklyn

  6. Jude

  7. Margeaux

  8. Lila

  9. Brooklyn

  10. Jude

  11. Brooklyn

  12. Lila

  13. Brooklyn

  14. Lila

  15. Brooklyn

  16. Jude

  17. Brooklyn

  18. Lila

  19. Brooklyn

  20. Lila

  21. Brooklyn

  22. Jude

  23. Brooklyn

  24. Jude

  25. Brooklyn

  26. Jude

  27. Brooklyn

  28. Lila

  29. Jude

  30. Brooklyn

  31. Jude

  32. Margeaux

  33. Brooklyn

  34. Lila

  35. Brooklyn

  36. Lila

  37. Margeaux

  38. Jude

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  Copyright © 2020 by Vanessa Winters

  All rights reserved. Published in the United States of America.

  Disclaimer: This book is intended for adult readers 18+. THIS book contains dark themes of bullying and may not be suitable for all readers.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  Blurb

  Loving the bitter prince will only lead to your bitter end…

  We’re always taught that the right choices, are the easy choices.

  But that’s a lie.

  Because with enough money, and enough power, right and wrong can be easily manipulated. Altered. Changed.

  And the Carlisle’s have done just that for years.

  They think they’re invincible—but they’re wrong.

  And I’m gonna prove it.

  Beneath their impeccable exterior lie dark secrets waiting to be discovered. Secrets powerful enough to bring their whole family down. And I’m going to expose them.

  I know they deserve what’s coming.

  They really do.

  But why then do I feel these flashes of guilt?

  It’s because of him.

  Jude is done with me—he’s made that very< clear—but that hasn’t stopped the bitter prince and his fiancée from torturing me at every turn. And it doesn’t help that we’re seemingly forced into each other’s company more now than ever.

  We aren’t meant to be. I know that now.

  But I also know I can’t deny this fierce forbidden heat that burns between us at every encounter.

  I thought I knew what I wanted. Knew what I needed.

  But Jude is like a drug I can’t quit, and if I don’t free myself from this addiction, it’s going to destroy me…

  This is a dark bully romance intended for readers 18+. This book contains dark themes, including abuse, violence and sexual relationships that some readers might be uncomfortable with.

  1

  Brooklyn

  Ding ding ding….

  The sweet tinkling of the bell made me grit my teeth and curse. I hurried to finish filling the tray with scones, Greek yogurt, fresh fruit, and coffee carafe, balancing it carefully to be sure it wouldn’t spill. Then, the sound happened again. That annoying dinging sound I had gotten all too comfortable with over the past year.

  Ding ding ding!

  Somehow, the sound seemed more persistent. Fucking Margeaux. I kept my steps slow and even. She would just love to make me topple the breakfast tray and have to start all over after picking shards of glass out of the rug. Then, that damn sound happened again, and I knew this time it was to spite me. To anger me. To make me frustrated beyond all belief. After all, that had been Margeaux’s goal this entire past year.

  And she was having a ball with it.

  Ding ding ding ding ding ding ding!

  I hated her. Holy hellfire, how I hated her. Finally, I’d made it to the door of Jude’s room. I pushed the handle down with one hip and edged the door open, where two faces—one impatient and one blank—awaited.

  “Finally! Did you not hear me ringing the bell? Honestly.” Margeaux shook her head, long shiny tresses swinging. I kept my face carefully calm.

  I kept my voice even. “Would you prefer to take breakfast inside or outside, ma’am?”

  “Out.”

  The two sat on their asses while I struggled with the balcony door. It wasn’t the same kind of handle, so I had to set down the tray, open the door, and then pick it back up again. Don’t get up, I told them in my head. Snippy thoughts to myself had become my method for handling the misery that had become my work life. And while it did me well most days, some days it didn’t cut it.

  And today felt like one of those latter days.

  I laid out the tablecloth on the outdoor table, placed the settings, and arranged the plates. I had been looking for a new job ever since things went south with the Carlisle family, and I had tried literally everywhere in town. Even places that I knew were hiring from friends on campus would suddenly have all positions filled when I was the one inquiring. At first, I had been confused. Then I had questioned myself— what was I doing that no one would hire me? Finally, the realization had hit me. It had to have been something the Carlisles had done. I didn’t know why or how—Well, scratch that. I could pretend I didn’t, but the truth was, it had become quickly obvious that they had used their influence solely to torture me.

  And as much as I hated to admit it, it was working.

  All of my work duties had changed, except those that kept me tightly under the thumb of Jude and Lila… and of course, Margeaux. Of the three, it was definitely Margeaux who seemed to have the most fun running me back and forth, hassling me wherever she could, and generally treating me like dirt.

  Today, though, there was a tiny little flash of hope that was carrying me through the hideousness of this house. I was waiting for an email from a university a few hours away. I had spoken with an advisor the week before, and she thought I had a chance of transferring to their university. The scholarship wouldn’t be as good, but as long as I kept all of my credits, I would jump at the chance. What was a little bit of student loan debt when it was compared to cleaning up after the many, many, many messes of the Wonder Twins? So, Margeaux could sneer and bitch, Jude could look at me with eyes as dark and cold as obsidian, and Janey could lead me on a goose chase of tasks so dull and servile they made me die a thousand deaths internally. Because today, I had hope.

  For the first time in the past year, it felt like there was a light at the end of this bullshit tunnel.

  Janey had started taking my phone at the beginning of each shift to make sure I didn’t do any spying. I usually didn’t mind all that much, but today, it was pure torture to not be able to sneak a peek and see if an email was waiting for me. I kept subconsciously reaching in my pocket, hoping to grab my phone, only to be disappointed when my empty pockets reminded me of just how locked down I was in this house.

  It was going to be such a long day.
r />   I started to clear up the empty plates and dishes when there was a crash. I looked up at Jude, whose coffee mug was shattered on the ground at his bare feet. He lifted one eyebrow.

  “Oops.”

  It took everything I had in me not to roll my eyes as Margeaux dissolved into giggles. Whatever. Today, I had hope.

  And not even they could take that away from me.

  * * *

  Saturday was a full shift, so I had a state-mandated half-hour lunch break in the middle of the day. I went to go find Janey to request my phone back for my break. I definitely should have had an email by now. Janey was standing stiff-backed in the kitchen, nibbling a scone. Seriously, you wouldn’t have ever seen a woman with a bigger stick up her ass than this one. I straightened my shoulders, knowing she wouldn’t make this easy for me.

  But, I was determined today.

  “Excuse me, Janey,” I said so that she looked up. “I’m taking my lunch break now and would like my phone, please.”

  That was as polite to her as I could make myself be.

  “No,” she said shortly, turning her back to me to take a sip of tea.

  “I’m waiting on an important email, so I need to check it,” I said.

  “Not my problem,” she said, still not looking at me.

  “Janey, if you don’t give me my phone now, I’ll leave my shift early, and it’ll be you running around to the tinkle of Margeaux’s bell,” I said through gritted teeth.

  That got her attention.

  “I’ll fire you.”

  “If you could fire me, you already would have,” I said triumphantly.

  She let out a puff of air. “Fine!” Digging out my phone from the locked drawer, she continued, “But not on the grounds. Check it in your car only and then bring it right back to me once you are finished.”

  I took the phone and rushed out of the kitchen to my car. I knocked twice on the hood for luck as I slipped into the back seat and powered it on.

  Please, please, please….

  It seemed to take forever to turn on and connect to the data atmosphere around me. Not that I had much to spare. However, I had enough to pull my emails and check them. So, as soon as it connected… beep

  It was an email notification. I swiped it open, my fingers trembling.

  Department of Admissions, Northwestern University

  To: Brooklyn James

  RE: Your Application

  ______________________________________________________________________________

  Dear Ms. James,

  After careful review of your application package and much consideration, we regret to inform you that your application for a bachelor’s degree in the journalism department of our university has not been accepted.

  Accepting student applications is always a difficult decision and is based on many factors. We appreciate your interest—

  I stopped reading the email and dropped my phone into my lap. Not accepted? Not accepted? That hadn’t even been an option I had considered. This university was a step down from Bryers, who had issued me a full-ride scholarship three years ago! Since then, my application would only have grown more competitive.

  I had a 4.0 GPA for fuck’s sake!

  My phone beeped again. This time it was a voicemail. I picked it back up and saw it was from the advisor I had spoken with. Maybe there had been some sort of mistake? My hopes rose again, just a little. I clicked ‘play’ and put it on speakerphone.

  Which I shouldn’t have done.

  “Brooklyn, this is Madeline Carrol calling. We spoke a few weeks ago in regard to your transfer application. I had planned to email you with good news today, because it looks like most of your credits would have transferred without issue. However, upon checking with the admissions office, I learned that your application to the university has been denied. Based on the information you provided me when we last spoke, I can only imagine that there is some non-academic issue that has caused this rejection, because it is clear that you are a stellar student. It was nice speaking with you, and I wish you all the best in your future endeavors.”

  I dropped my phone back into my lap, my heart sinking even further than before. So that was it. Some ‘non-academic’ reason. I sank down in my seat and dropped my head into my hands. Non-academic reason… non-academic reason? What in the hell was going on lately? There was no earthly reason that this university should have rejected my application. I’d researched their school paper before applying. It was a dinky little thing full of half-assed fluff pieces. My samples from our paper at Bryers should have guaranteed my application on their own basis, and that wasn’t even taking into account my GPA or letters of recommendation.

  I kicked the back of the seat in front of me and allowed myself one small scream of frustration before curling up on the seats, head in my hands. This was too much to handle. I was stuck at this school, stuck at this job, and stuck working with some of the evilest people who probably existed on this entire damn planet.

  My phone chimed, letting me know that my lunch break had ended, and I needed to get back inside. It took a monumental amount of effort to lift myself off the seat. I shook my head and rubbed my face. Pull yourself together, Brooklyn. I shoved all of my thoughts, stress, and anxieties to the very back of my brain and headed back into Carlisle Manor. But I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t drag my feet a little bit on the way in.

  I got through the first hour, but with each passing minute that ticked by, my actions grew slower. When Margeaux asked me to clean out her purse that she’d spilled a beet smoothie into, on purpose if I had to guess, I barely lifted an eyebrow. I did register her sigh of disappointment after I refused to rise to the bait, however.

  Jude was a little bit harder to ignore. Try as I might, I just couldn’t escape those dark eyes, following me as I scrubbed out the inside of his fiancée’s stupid expensive purse, as I cleaned the windows in his bedroom, made his bed, and delivered him a pot of afternoon coffee. I kept my eyes down and away from his, but it was impossible to avoid contact forever. When our eyes did meet, accidentally on my part, there was nothing that I could do to suppress the dark shiver that ran through me.

  “Well, I’m going now. Daddy needs me at the country club,” Margeaux said as I cleaned Jude’s keyboard. He had told me to remove every single key and clean each of them one by one. I was currently picking out lint and dust with a toothpick, the keys soaking in a vinegar mixture I had made.

  “Bye,” Jude said, not looking up from his phone.

  “Now, is that how you say goodbye to your fiancée?” Margeaux pouted. Sometimes she liked to fake a little ‘charming’ Southern drawl when she was attempting to be cute. If anything that had happened today could totally kill me, it would be listening to her do that without being able to roll my eyes. The need to groan was so strong I had to bite my tongue.

  Jude stood, crossed the room, and pulled Margeaux’s thin frame into his arms. I darted one glance, taking in his strong biceps, the muscles of his back as he put his arms around her, the— Stop it, Brooklyn!

  With a miniscule shake of my head, I turned back to my task.

  I heard Jude murmur. “Goodbye, my love.” This was followed by the very sloppy, slurpy sounds of a make-out session. I lasered in on my task so I wouldn’t throw up at the sounds. I guess I got so focused that I didn’t even realize Margeaux had left until Jude’s feet were right in front of me. I jerked and looked up, right into those sexy eyes.

  “What’s up with you today?” his voice was flat, but his stare was intense.

  “Wh-What do you mean?” I asked. Damn it, he’d made me stutter.

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Apologies, sir, if you think my work is not up to snuff—” I attempted the perfect blasé, professional tone, but he cut me off.

  “That’s not what I mean, and you know it. You and I both know that you’re never happy to be here, but today there’s something else going on. I can tell. So, what is it? What’s the problem?�
�� His voice had grown sharp and impatient.

  “It’s nothing,” I said again, but this time without feeling.

  “Tell me.” Jude sounded dark, and his tone left no room for disagreement. I tore my eyes away from my task and looked at him, feeling that shiver run through me as I did.

  “I just got some bad news, that’s all. Now, can I get back to my work, please?”

  “No.” He pushed the keyboard out of my hands. “What bad news?”

  “What do you care?”

  “I don’t.”

  “Then let’s just leave it there.” I reached back for the keyboard, but this time he kicked it across the room. Even his feet were sexy. I sighed and folded my hands in my lap.

  “Jude, let’s not pretend here. We are not friends. And just because I’m an employee of your mother’s does not mean you’re entitled to know everything that’s going on in my life.”

  “No, it doesn’t entitle me to anything. However, I want to know why you’re moping around here like someone kicked your dog. That’s not like you. You are many things, many annoying, infuriating things, but a moper you are not. So, I would like you to tell me, and do it now. You’re wasting both of our time.”

  I sighed and looked down at my hands, unsure of what to say. This was the most that the two of us had spoken since that fateful night, and it was definitely the only time since that I had gotten any sort of hint that he might still care about me after everything.

 

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