Scorned

Prologue

I wasn't a woman who minced words to soothe another person. Nor was I one to change my mind once I had placed a person in my "trash" bin.

People have described me as bitchy, stuck-up, scary, hot and crazy vindictive. Do I care? Ha. Yeah, right.

Wealth, beauty and all the attention I could ever want were showered on me at a very young age, but one thing was missing; love. Where do I even begin with that complex word?

Love led my father to his demise.

Love made me ache for my mother's non-existent emotion towards us, her family.

Love ruined me for the male species.

It didn't take long, though, to discover the power of beauty and sex. I got my euphoric highs from making men suffer—may it be emotional, mental, physical. Blue balls anyone?

It was all about validation. Needing to prove a point that I held the power, that no one could come close to hurting me any longer. I was excellent at it. I was my own master. What else could be better than that?

Yet, once again, Mister Cupid had a perverse way to scramble my very guarded personal life.

Would I let fate choose for me? Or should I fight it tooth and nail as I'd done in the past?