Resisting the City's Bad Boy

Ayana’s POV

[Flashback: About six years ago]

The air inside this mansion crackles heavily with dread, causing waves of fear threatening to paralyze my bones. My head is buried deep in the air with shame, regrets, and immeasurable pain. I am at that exact moment where the ‘I wish I knew’ applies, and it also happens to be the only thing I can say at this unsettling moment.

My arms are gently caressing the tiny invisible seed inside my womb, while the three pairs of eyes before me glare at me, not with pride but with disgust and shame. The deafening silence that engulfed us minutes ago when I broke the news of my accidental pregnancy is cutting through every sense of my being with dread and uncertainties.

Yes, uncertainty!

Because as it stands, I don’t know my fate. I knew that this would shock my family. I myself am not proud of this, so of course, I would have been a delusional human being to expect the news to be welcomed with applause and warmth. I knew this would shock them.

I knew that this was a stain on the great De Mario household name. A big stain, for that matter, for a family that holds the social status like it is their dear life. But this mood, this suffocating air that I am breathing this suspense, it all makes me realize that this is far much worse and deeper than I speculated.

But can I blame them, really?

They say that love is blind, and I was the blindest of all. I fell in love. Head over heels. Stupidly in love. Wrongly in love. Like an idiotic idiot. And with the baddest of the bad boys on campus. The red flags waved across my face in every single direction I turned to, but as a girl in love, and that too, for the first time in her life, I turned a blind eye and a deaf ear to all the red flags. I blurred all the warnings.

The only thing I could pay attention to was the heat and the rapid heartbeats whenever I thought of him or whenever he passed by. Him, Sam Roberts! Sam fucking Roberts! I shut everything out and followed what my heart wanted.

I fell right into the burning fire. A jerk who had it all to drive any lady insane with just a single glare. He didn’t even have to move a muscle. A wink was enough. Even with his bad repute and his rotten behavior reeking all the way to the heavens, Sam Roberts would still get any girl he wanted.

And unfortunately for me, even with my high class and golden pedigree, I was no exception. He wanted me, and actually, I desired him even before he could notice me. It took just half a wink from him for us to become an item.

A fucking cursed item!

Too bad for me, because I did not know that this package contained more pain than happiness. I did not know that this love would be this painful. I didn’t know that this love would bring me so much pain, shame, and embarrassment.

I didn’t know that this cursed love with the bad boy would bring me to this point—pregnant, rejected, humiliated—and now I can’t even tell where I stand with my family. But one thing is for sure: my future seems so vague at this moment, and I curse that son of a bitch a million times.

“Let’s see.” Finally, I raise my head, a small grin playing at my lips as Father breaks the screaming silence that has lasted for eternity.

But upon meeting his face, the smile disappears on its own. I swallow hard, looking at anywhere but my father’s face as he speaks, “I will forget all this disgrace that you have brought upon me and this entire family, Ayana.” He breathes in deeply, and I know when he does that, the amount of rage burning within him is synonymous with a tempest. “I will forgive you, Ayana,” he pauses, making me amass the courage to look at him.

Forgive me?

Even if his face is as cold as ice, the word forgive from his mouth is still adequate enough to summon a small grin from me.

The warmth starts gushing over me, but that is until his next acold words slap me: “If only you tell me that that useless moron you were shamelessly fooling around with is on the way right now coming to take this disgrace from my face and my home!”

My father’s despotic tone echoes, shooting an arrow directly into my bleeding heart. My feet grow cold. Actually, my entire being does. I go numb for quite a long moment.

I am a disgrace. And an embarrassment! The worst part is that I feel exactly that. I am all that and much, much more, including what that bastard called me when he rejected me in front of the whole class. Another tear drops, and I don’t have the strength in my arms to scour it. I just let them flow. Hoping and wishing that this would soften my father’s heart.

“I don’t need your tears, Ayana!” Father grumbles, maintaining his distance from me. “He is at least taking responsibility, right? I will personally deliver you to their home before this leaks out. So, speak up!”

Massive streams of tears flow!

How I wish that was the case. At least I would leave this house, and he wouldn’t have to look at me with this shame and hurt. He is even willing to deliver me to them, like a package. A useless object that he does not need. A disgrace that he needs to get rid of. Ooh, how I wish!

I clear some tears after noticing his impatience and speak with my head exactly where it is supposed to be—hunched down, “I am sorry, Dad! I am sorry, but there will be no marriage. He won’t take responsibility either. He does not want anything to do with me and neither the baby; I am, so, sorry, Dad!” I hiccup, my face almost sweeping the floor with shame.

All I get as a response are cold sighs from the three of them, and my father? He looks like he would trade me for anything at this moment. Like he would rather pick the dust under his feet than me, his child. And this hurts.