Bad Teacher – Bad Boss – Bad Royal – Unprofessional Bad Boys Read online Clarissa Wild

Categories Genre: BDSM, College, Contemporary, Erotic, New Adult, Romance, Young Adult Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 179189 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 896(@200wpm)___ 717(@250wpm)___ 597(@300wpm)
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I swallow when I see one of the girls placing a peck on his cheeks, and my mood immediately sours. Of course, he’d be that kind of guy. Kissing random girls you’ve never met, banging them whenever he can. Why would I expect anything less? He probably doesn’t even remember my face, let alone my name. I should’ve known better than to just let myself go with the first guy who showed interest in me.

I shake my head and turn away, determined not to let this sway me from my goal. I’m not here to find a boyfriend or have casual sex. I’m here to do my job. To make kickass clothes and make a name for myself. To put my brand on the map and become a famous designer. That’s what’s important right now.

So I keep my head high and walk on ahead to the palace. The side entrance is where I’m supposed to enter. The assistant told me someone will open the door for me, so I’m assuming they know I’m coming.

When I get to the gate, I ring the doorbell and wait for an answer. “Business inquiries only,” a stern voice says.

“I’m here for an appointment with Mrs. Adallah. She said you knew I was coming.”

A few minutes pass before someone comes strolling to the gate to unlock it manually. Guess they really don’t like to let people in. Or maybe they wanna check if it’s really me.

“Passport please,” the man says before he allows me in.

I reluctantly pull it out and show it to him. His eyes scan the pages before he gives it back. “All right. C’mon.”

By the time I’ve put my passport back in my bag, the man’s already gone ahead. I have trouble keeping up with him without looking like I’m rushing, but I don’t want to make a fool out of myself because I’m about to meet someone who actually works for royalty.

When we’re close to the entrance, the man suddenly takes my bag and puts it under an X-ray machine, probably to check if I brought anything dangerous. I guess you can’t be too careful with royalty and stuff. Luckily, I pass the test.

My heart’s beating out of my chest when he opens a door and beckons for me to enter. My eyes are peeled as I marvel at the beauty inside. White marble slabs line the floors and walls, the décor extravagant because of the gold practically slathered on everything. Gold fountains, gold lining along the pillars in the middle, golden statues, and even flaky golden pots filled with plants and flowers.

“Last door on your left. Do not go anywhere else. It is forbidden,” the man barks.

Before I can reply, the door has already shut, and I feel as though I’ve been trapped in the most beautiful prison in the world. I’m not even sure I’d be mad if they forced me to stay.

I tiptoe around and try to gape at the massive halls, but every time someone passes, I feel like a peeping Tom crossing boundaries I shouldn’t cross. So I opt for the safe route and immediately go to my left.

When I’m at the last door, I clear my throat and knock on the door.

A woman in a few layers of colorful fabric opens the door, and I part my lips, a little unsure of what to say. “Hi. I’m the new designer. I’m supposed to meet with Mrs. Adallah today.”

“You’re Maya?” the woman says, her sparkling eyes lighting up. “It’s so nice to meet you.” She shakes my hand and opens the door even farther, pulling me inside as she begins to talk. “Come in, come in.”

We sit down in her office, where she offers me a cup of tea and explains to me what I’ll be doing. It’s standard practice, and nothing I’ve never heard before. The whole conversation takes an hour maybe, tops. When all is said and done, and the contract is signed, I know exactly what’s expected of me, including the fact I’m to remain silent about this to the press until after the clothing I’ve made has been worn. Any private business I witness is also not to be discussed, which is completely understandable. I mean, it’s the palace, after all, and I’m sure the media are as hungry for news and gossip here as they are back in the States.

But I don’t mind. The pay is great, and I get to do what I love. They’re giving me free rein on the fabrics and anything else I need. Nothing is too expensive, which is like a designer’s dream come true.

By the time we’ve gone through it all, I’m giddy to get started. When we get up, she says, “Okay then. Let me introduce you to your client.”

Mrs. Adallah walks me through the corridors and up a flight of stairs. Then through what feels like endless halls alongside beautiful gardens until we stop at a huge door with a guard standing on each side.



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