Curvy Girls Can't Date Bad Boys (The Curvy Girls Club #4) by Kelsie Stelting

Author:Kelsie Stelting [Stelting, Kelsie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9798565365016
Google: 9xQlzgEACAAJ
Amazon: B08LDS52BH
Goodreads: 55849236
Publisher: Independently published
Published: 2020-11-15T00:00:00+00:00

Twenty-Nine

“They depend on it?” I asked, still dumbfounded. “I mean, I know the exposure will be nice for you, but you’re ‘Hollywood’s hottie.’ You’ll be just fine without me.”

Actually, the more I thought about it, the more frustrated I became. The fact that Ryde thought he could force me into marrying him was more than enough evidence for me to know he was not the man for me. But Ryde gripped my arm, and I looked pointedly down at his hand.

“You don’t understand,” he said harshly, still not letting go.

My voice was venom now. “No, what I don’t understand is why your hand is still on my arm.”

He swore low and then stepped back and said, “Your father has a settlement check written out to my parents and me dated for the day of our wedding, along with the promise for any role I choose in any upcoming film through Bhatta Productions. If you ruin this for me, I promise, I will ruin you.”

My mouth fell open, and I stumbled backwards. My father had bribed him and his parents so he would marry me? Now it made sense why he’d been so invested and kept coming back after everything. But what didn’t make sense was why it had been done in the first place. I felt dirty, used, like my dad had sold me instead of carefully placed me with someone I could grow to love. How could he have done such a thing?

With a final glance my way, Ryde walked out of the kitchen, and I stood there, reeling in the news Ryde had shared—and his threat.

The kitchen staff began filtering in now that Ryde had left, and the flurry of activity resumed around me as if nothing happened. But the ground felt unstable beneath me, as did the only person I'd ever really relied on since Mom had passed away. I leaned against the kitchen island, clinging to the granite countertops to stay standing.

Nausea consumed me, and I swallowed, trying to hold back the swell of disgust and betrayal rising in my throat. I felt no guilt now for turning down Ryde, for denying my father’s wishes. Slave trade wasn’t a part of the Indian tradition—he’d gone outside of our culture just as much as I had.

Fueled by anger, I made my way to the living room just minutes behind Ryde.

“There’s our girl,” Mr. Alexander said with a steely grin. It was now that I noticed the glint of desperation in his eyes. I was his family’s meal ticket.

Ryde leaned back in his seat and drained the rest of his drink. “Ain’t she a beaut?”

Pam laughed like the ex-pageant queen she was. “We have two beautiful girls in here, don’t we?”

“Three,” Mr. Alexander chuckled.

“Oh hush.” She batted her hand at him. “Should we go to supper before he has a chance for any more flattery?”

Dad nodded and began standing. “We can always accomplish that at the dinner table though.” The easy way he joked made me see red.

“Actually,”

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