Princess's Revenge

PRINCESS’S REVENGEAN AGE-GAP ENEMIES TO LOVERS REVERSE HAREM ROMANCE RAVEN BLAIRE CONTENTS Chapter 1Chapter 2Chapter 3Chapter 4Chapter 5Chapter 6Chapter 7Chapter 8Chapter 9Chapter 10Chapter 11Chapter 12Chapter 13Chapter 14Chapter 15Chapter 16Chapter 17Chapter 18Chapter 19Chapter 20Chapter 21Chapter 22Chapter 23Chapter 24Did you like this book?Sneak Peek - Chapter OneDo you like FREEBIE Romance books? Copyright 2023 by Raven Blaire - All rights reserved. In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved. Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher. CHAPTER 1 “You look absolutely stunning Jessi!” The tiny brunette in the refurbished prom dress is my bridesmaid, Sarah. A friend from high school—my only friend, really. Maybe I look stunning, but I don’t feel it. A veil from a thrift store does not a bride make. “Can you cheer up for God’s sake? It’s your wedding day!” “Well, I’m glad at least one of us is happy.” “You’re being insufferable, Jessi, really! Smile!” The way Sarah’s beaming at me, you’d think it was her wedding day. I wish I could be as excited as she clearly was, but everything feels wrong. Jack Smith might be a good provider, we’ve got a decent apartment, he’s got a so-so entry-level bookkeeping job, but at twenty-one years old, this is not how I had pictured my life. Maybe everyone feels like this? Like there’s supposed to be more? Maybe it takes eighty-years of living, till life beats you down enough and you realize you were always just a grain of sand on an infinite stretch of beach…you mean nothing. Knock, knock, knock. “Could you get that, Sarah?” “That’s what I’m here for!” She flashes me another 500-volt smile. Right now, I feel like I wouldn’t even be getting married at all if it wasn’t for Sarah. She’s the one who thinks it’s important to have security in life. Of course, her version of security is a husband. I guess poor folks like me and her raised in a state facility don’t have the luxury of marrying for love. We marry so we can keep a roof over our heads and make sure dinner is on the table for a man who drinks and beats you from time to time only to apologize and confess his undying love minutes later. That’s—security. I’m sitting in a tiny room, in a tiny church, inside my tiny life, staring at the tiny mirror of a vanity, looking for any reason not to do this, when Sarah hands me a manila envelope with a confused look on her face. “This came for you. The guy said you have to open it right now. Weird huh?” “Weird indeed,” I tear open the package. “They’re supposed to put money in the birdcage out front.” “What is it?” Sarah’s excitement quickly evaporates when she sees what I’m holding. My own heart falls into the pit of my stomach. I flip through the pictures, each one revealing an act more lewd than the last. New York is expensive. Our apartment is the shittiest one-bedroom in the dirtiest building that Bedford Park has to offer. I thought we were lucky to have it at our age. Jack often stays in the city during the week—He says it’s to save money on the commute. He bunks with a friend. Turns out that ‘friend’ is a blonde with daddy issues—judging from the way she seems to be enjoying the spanking she’s getting. There are about twenty pictures in all, some are of him balls-deep in her from behind, some of her choking on his cock like she does it for a living. I wryly appreciate that the pictures are impressive. The zoom lens, the shutter-speed, the composition…they leave nothing to the imagination. It makes me want to take up photography—maybe I will. Sarah carefully puts her hand on my shoulder. “Someone is trying to sabotage you and Jack. It doesn’t matter, Jessi! He still loves you. A woman can’t be alone in this world.” I say nothing, she goes on, “You’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking, are you?” Hearing her delusion makes me smile. Fuck Jack Smith. I stand and rip off the veil. “I was alone all my life. You’re the only person I had. We’re worth more than this, Sarah. Promise me you won’t do this to yourself. Don’t end up here.” “Jessi, no!” I tear off the cheap netting and bullshit knickknacks we’ve sewn onto the dress that makes me feel cheaper than Jack’s whore—I do it so I can move faster—and then head for the door with Sarah tugging on my arm. “What are you going to do?!” “I’m going to our apartment, packing a bag and seeing what happens.” It’s easier to start again when you’ve got nothing. All the shit people collect only holds them back. I take a breath to compose myself before I turn the door handle…then exit with my head held high. “Jessi, stop!” I ignore her. She means well, but this is her fantasy, not mine. It’s time to stop living for everyone else. It’s time to live for me! I go through the hall till I hit the aisle leading to the altar. I spot a smattering of Jack’s relatives sitting in the pews. He doesn’t have a big family. His father’s dead, his mother’s a doormat and his sister’s an alcoholic. There are also a few cousins milling about and making conversation. Jack spots me from a group of his supposed work colleagues in their rented, blue suits and throws me a nasty glance—it must be on account of my dress being shredded. I guess I ought to tell him to his face so he doesn’t send the cops after me. He might file a missing person’s report. As I approach,