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Her Spite

The Forgotten Elites Book Two

Eden Beck

Her Spite by Eden Beck

Ā© 2021 Eden Beck

All rights reserved. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any meansā€”electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwiseā€”without prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of including brief passages for use in a review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the authorā€™s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

For permissions contact:

authoredenbeck@gmail.com

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

A Note From The Author

Also by Eden Beck

Chapter One

Never in a million years would I think Iā€™d be itching to get back to Ridgecrest classes.

But here I am.

Spending a week alone on campus will do that to you, especially when the alternative is ā€¦ well, there is no alternative. Not now that Iā€™ve basically been disowned.

No, not basically.

Have been disowned.

I thought it was bad enough getting caught kissing Ben Haverdy, the teacherā€™s aide at Sisters of Virtue Catholic school. After all, that is why I was sent to Ridgecrestā€™s gap-year program in the first place. A school full of delinquents sent here for teenage pregnancies, selling drugs, and worseā€”and Iā€™m here for a single kiss.

Well, now two.

Coming to Ridgecrest wasnā€™t my choice, but staying here is. And for that, Iā€™m paying the price.

Spending the last week essentially all alone on campus hasnā€™t been greatā€”to say the least. But now that my parents wonā€™t so much as reply to an email from me, I have nowhere else to go, no way to get there, and basically no money.

Aside from the small bit of cash that Iā€™d been smart enough to withdraw from the bank before my parents closed my accountā€”a crazy early Christmas gift to meā€”I donā€™t have much else besides the few personal belongings in my room.

At least itā€™s somethingā€”definitely not enough to be able to go anywhere though.

Just enough to make sure Iā€™ll be able to eat when the Thanksgiving and Christmas breaks come around ā€¦ but donā€™t even get me started on what Iā€™m supposed to do afterward. I canā€™t even begin to think about that. Part of me still thinks thereā€™s no way my parents can really disown me forever.

And then the other part of me knows better.

The part of me that knows them.

Like everything else, my parents controlled ā€¦ control all of my money and finances. As soon as they decided to renounce me, they locked my bank account and I lost access to any sort of financial support that I used to have. Not that it was ever much, they kept me on such a short leash ā€¦ and certainly nothing compared to what most of the Ridgecrest kids have.

I canā€™t imagine Bridget in my position. She would die.

And thatā€™s not an exaggeration. I think she would literally just drop dead from the indignity of it all.

But for me, itā€™s fineā€”really. A small price to pay for my freedom.

Freedom that should not have come at such a steep price. If onlyā€”

If only one person would believe me for once. Just one.

But those are thoughts that lead to nowhere but a dark spiral, and if Iā€™m going to make it through the next few months here at Ridgecrestā€”hell, if Iā€™m going to make it through the next few weeksā€”Iā€™m going to have to be stronger than that.

I have more to contend with now than just my own broke bank account.

And those things have names.

Warren.

Chase.

Sterling.

And, of course ā€¦ eventually, Bridget too.

Things are definitely going to get a lot more exciting around campus now.

Being tossed aside by parents is surprisingly freeing; and since I no longer have to fight against the idea of me being the heathen that everyone here is trying to make me out to be ā€¦ thereā€™s literally nothing to be afraid of anymore. Iā€™m in charge of how things play out now, and if my last little chat with Bridget is any indicator, Iā€™m pretty sure that she and the guys arenā€™t going to like the way that I run the game.

Not now that Iā€™m in charge.

The tables have turned, and I plan to use them to my full advantage.

Itā€™s the only advantage I have, after all.

I used the break alone to figure out how I was best going to leverage the blackmail that I have over Bridget. I donā€™t know all the details of what happened, but I know enough to put Bridget right where I want her.

I know that somewhere thereā€™s a baby that belongs to her. Where the child is, or who the father is ā€¦ those are less important details. The biggest advantage I have is that Iā€™m pretty sure Iā€™m the only one who knows about the babe, besides Bridget and her parents.

I donā€™t even think that Warren knows about it, which might be the most powerful piece of the ā€¦ information ā€¦ I hold over her. I can only imagine how hurt and betrayed her twin brother would feel if he ever found out that his sister was keeping something as important as a baby from him.

In fact, I like to imagine that a lot.

But that might be because even in my mind, Warren is more than a little soft on the eyes.

Stop it, slut. Iā€™ve already had enough trouble with boys. For once, for just one semester, Iā€™d like to try to keep their hands off of meā€”and the rumors away from my already shattered reputation.

Thereā€™s no way that Bridget will chance Warren finding out about it, or any of the other guys, or her friends for that

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