Prologue
“Wha…what do you mean?” she asked, her voice ringing with the sound of heartbreak.
“It’s not my fucking problem,” he replied. “How many times do I have to say it?”
“But…it’s yours.”
“Yeah, right,” he scoffed. “And how in the hell would I know that?”
“Well…because the timing-”
“Look, Leah, you can say it’s mine all you want, but I’ve seen you spread your legs for other guys,” he said cruelly. “It could be anyone’s.”
Her voice took on a pained quality that was uncomfortable to hear. “I…Seth, I…I only did that because you asked me to,” she reminded him. “I…I never would have ever done something like that, but you…you said it was something you…”
He sounded so casual, it bordered on nauseating. “Says you, Leah. How do I know that’s not a regular thing for you?”
“Oh, God,” she whispered incredulously. “You can’t honestly think that, Seth. You’re the only guy I’ve ever been with before…before that.” Her voice was becoming hysterical. “You know you took my virginity.”
His cold cockiness knew no bounds. “I knew your pussy was cherry, but what about your ass? If those couple of weekends are any indication, it’s hard to say if your ass was cherry before I came along.”
“You sonofabitch.” Her words were harsh, but her tone was pure anguish. “I did that because I love you, Seth. And…and you said you loved me. You said…you were supposed to break up with her and be with me.”
“See, that’s your problem, Leah,” he said tauntingly. “You were so eager to fit in, you failed to use common fucking sense.”
“What?”
“For all your excellent skills with a hard dick, you should have had enough sense to know that you’d still never compare to Grace Hale. Common sense should have told you I was only fucking you because Grace won’t give it up.”
“Oh, God…”
He continued as if he wasn’t aware of the emotional cruelty spilling from his lips. “Unlike you, Grace has self-respect. Even after eight months of dating, she’s still keeping her legs closed because she knows her worth. She’s fucking Grace Hale, for fuck’s sake.”
“It…it was all a lie…” Leah mumbled, not forming a question because it really wasn’t one.
“I needed my dick wet, and because you’ve always been so eager to fit in, I knew you were perfect for what I needed until Grace gave it up,” he told her, not caring about the damage he was doing to her. His laugh was pure evil. “Hell, you were what we all needed. Adams and Fenway loved pumping you full of cock.”
“You bastard,” she cried out brokenly. “You-”
“I’m not going to let you pin this on me, Leah,” Seth continued. “Get rid of it or your life will be a living hell.”
“The baby is yours, asshole,” she snapped. “And-” Leah’s yelp was a sure sign of some physicality.
“That may very well be, Leah,” Seth conceded, his voice tight with anger. “However, what would your parents say, your sisters, your friends, the school…what would they all say when you’re forced to have to issue paternity tests for three different guys? Oh, wait, four. I almost forgot about Linden.” Leah’s sobs were no longer silent. “What would everyone think once we had to tell them why you needed a paternity test for four different guys? Let’s not forget the videos that would back up my claims.”
Leah’s voice sounded hollow and defeated. “You’re a vile creature, Seth Burns. You’re sure to burn in Hell one day.”
“Not today, though, Leah,” he taunted. “Today, I’m going to go about my life without any interference from you and your bullshit. Get rid of the problem and stay the fuck away from me.”
“You can’t do this,” she argued, still trying to hold on to some control. “You can’t.”
“If I lose Grace over this, I will ruin you and your entire family, Leah,” Seth threatened.
I couldn’t listen anymore. My stomach was on the verge of purging itself.
But that’s what you get for eavesdropping, I suppose.
Chapter 1
Grace~
I sat in my car, facing the imposing stone structure that was Blackstone Prep Academy. I watched as students laughed and smile as they made their way into the building. It was exactly as you’d expect an expensive prep school to look like.
It looked like a goddamn fortress.
The walls were high with stained-glass windows and actual turrets. The entire structure was made of stone, showcasing just how much it would have cost to build the monstrosity. The school was entirely too large for the number of students who attended, but the school offered classes in damn near everything you could think of. Wealthy parents everywhere donated obscene amounts of money to Blackstone to groom their children for whatever they needed them to be groomed for. So, if Blackstone needed to create a classroom and hire a teacher for organic turtle farming because your family stumbled upon a mass fortune nurturing turtles organically, well then, that’s what Blackstone Prep Academy did.
It catered to the wealthy.
The only magnanimous thing that could be said about Blackstone Prep was that it allowed scholarship students to attend. They also allowed anyone who met the testing requirements to attend, as well, as long as they were able to pay the astronomical tuition that rival that of ivy league colleges.
There was also a separate dorm area for students who transferred in from other states. Mostly, Blackstone’s student body were kids from Dayton, California. Or, more specifically, us kids from the gated community of Wakefield. Take Atherton, California and multiply it by a thousand, and that was Wakefield.
And my family was at the top of the Wakefield food chain.
My father, Sterling Hale The Fourth, was CEO of Hale Securities & Investments. Rumor was that he was brilliant and had the mind of a computer and the vision of a psychic. His financial predictions were legendary, supposedly. And it must be true for my parents to have the type of money they had. I just never bothered to learn what all my father was about. For all the progress women have made in the past fifty years, a female-this one in particular-would never take over Hale Securities & Investments.
My mother, Serena Hale, was exactly what you think she’d be upon hearing her name. I’d liken her to a delicate southern belle had she been from The South, but she wasn’t. She was from Hillsborough, California. Serena Hale was the wealthy socialite that’s been clichéd to death. Including making sure her naturally brown hair never showed its roots. As far as she was concerned, she was blonde and that was that.
My parents were casually neglectful, but that’s what nannies, housekeepers, and cooks were for, right? It wasn’t wrong if everyone was doing it, and every parent in Wakefield was doing it. It was our way of life. When it was all you’ve ever known, there was no right or wrong; it was just the way we were raised. Hell, we had started out life already registered to a preschool my parents had to enroll us into while my mother was still pregnant with us. That’s how pretentious our lives were.