Death Next Door

Her new roommate has a rather questionable friend.
WARNING: a TON of fluff. Sorry but I based the main male off of a character that I LOVE from a series so if you don’t like cute starry nights than suck it and go read something else

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9. Chapter Nine

On the plane to Japan, Willow got out her laptop and started writing.

When I was very young, my parents told me about the family business. Running a multibillion dollar government weapons research company was a dangerous job– people are always trying to get to your money, information, and supplies.

However, I didn’t want to be the heiress to that much money. My goal was to travel, to be happy, to fall in love at least twice, and to write a story about it.

The money would be my ticket to a life of being chained to a stark white society with no place for a girl like me.

So I went to a public school and hosted giant parties when my parents weren’t home. I suppose I was trying to spite them, I guess. I ended up making friends with these eight kids that loved me and I loved them. They were my second family, to make up for the constant absence of my parents.

Then one of them died. Hana Dei, a girl who lived in this really nasty neighborhood, had been shot in a drive-by.

And then everything changed. My parents got concerned and pulled me out of school, and put me into this exclusive academy and I had nobody to turn to.

The kids at the academy though I was stupid, the kids at my public school were long gone, and my parents were often in business meetings.

So I made myself into some poor imitation of the girl that Hana was. I dyed my hair with bright pink stripes and stole boyfriends. I hosted more parties, filled with designer drugs and fine clothing that we put on even though we knew it’d be gone by the end of the night.

I was the ultimate stereotype of a party girl, and I hated myself for it.

Then, one day, I went too far. I was stressed out and tired; my mind was wandering. A girl walked up to me and started yelling about how I was a whore, a faggot, and other terrible names. I’d had sex with her best friend and her boyfriend, and she was furious. Then she shoved me hard enough to make me trip and fall, hitting my head on the floor.

I didn’t mean to send her to the emergency room, of course. But I did. And so one of the best attorneys in the state came after me on behalf of the girl, and I was sent away with a large sum of money to New York, where my parents didn’t need to look at their failure of a daughter.

As the only heir to the empire of endless money, I started to clean up. I got a job, an apartment, and hid my past from prying eyes.

Satisfied with what she had so far, she shut her laptop and slept the rest of the way.

Willow took an Uber to her hotel and checked in, annoyed at the strangely suggestive looks the desk lady was sending her way.

Room 304... Room 304... there!

Willow threw open the door and promptly dropped her suitcase on her foot.

Because standing there, was a very angry, very shirtless Cole.

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