Poor Little Rich Girl: a dark romance by Steffanie Holmes

Poor Little Rich Girl: a dark romance by Steffanie Holmes

Author:Steffanie Holmes [Holmes, Steffanie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bacchanalia House
Published: 2023-04-05T23:00:00+00:00


Claudia

My first day back at school after being shot is hell. Walking is torture. After dragging my feet up the wide palm-lined boulevard and ascending the front steps, my forehead is coated in sweat and my head spins. Of course, the powers that be have ensured all my classes are as far from each other as humanly possible without being in treehouses or across some impassable ravine.

When I hand Cleo my forged doctor’s note saying I’ll be off the cheerleading team for the rest of the year, her face lights up like her daddy bought her that facelift she’s been dreaming of. “Oh, that’s such a shame. Obviously, we have games coming up, so we’ll have to replace you. I can’t guarantee there will be a spot open when you come back, but don’t you worry about that. You just focus on getting well.” She sweeps her gaze over my body, like a lioness searching for the weakest wildebeest. “What’s wrong with you, anyway?”

“None of your damn business.” I grab my note from her hands and storm off.

I know I need to deal with Cleo, but the list of shit on my plate is piling up fast. Saturnalia is only a couple of weeks away and we need to figure out what the hell to do next. And then there’s the little issue of Mackenzie Malloy and her murderous intent toward me.

I sit at the back of Ms. Drysdale’s class and struggle to breathe through her lecture on women’s suffrage. I remember another issue I’ve yet to deal with – the fact that my favorite teacher is being extorted by Nero Lucian.

How is she mixed up in all this? Why does she owe Nero money for something her ex did?

As Ms. Drysdale turns to her slideshow on Susan B. Anthony, I slide my phone into the pages of my textbook and Google my teacher, something I should have done when I first found out about her and Nero. There’s nothing – no newspaper articles, no school gossip, only an Instagram page with a couple of photographs of flowers, last updated over two years ago. Luckily, I know someone who can dig deeper.

The bell rings for lunch. I hang back as students barrel out of the room. I have another annoying task I need to deal with today.

“Ms. Drysdale, I wondered if I could talk to you.” I fall into step beside her as the halls fill with students. She cradles her laptop tight against her chest and stares at me with those wide, intelligent eyes of hers. “I know it’s past the cut-off date for signing up for the Germany trip, but I was wondering if it might be possible for you to add another student?”

“That depends.” She slips her laptop case under her arm and tucks a strand of stray hair behind her ear. The cuffs of her grey blazer are rolled up to her elbows. The insides are a vivid scarlet color, matching the chunky beaded rosary hanging around her neck.



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