Beautifully Mine
Tara Lee
Contents
Warning
Playlist
Glossary
Prologue
Callie
Bishop
Bishop
Callie
Bishop
Callie
Bishop
Callie
Callie
Bishop
Callie
Bishop
Callie
Bishop
Callie
Bishop
Bishop
Bishop
Callie
Bishop
Callie
Bishop
Callie
Bishop
Bishop
Callie
Bishop
Callie
Bishop
Bishop
Callie
Bishop
Callie
Bishop
Epilogue
Bonus Epilogue
Bonus Bonus Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Coming from Tara Lee
Also by tara lee
About the Author
To my Henchwench Dana.
Thank you for being my wench. Love your face XOXOX
Bishop is yours because I know you can’t share him!
Warning
This book contains subjects that may be tough for some readers. Please keep that in mind while reading. Continue at your own will.
Playlist
I don’t wanna live forever- Zayn, taylor swift
Starving- hailee steinfeld
Wrecking ball- miley cyrus
Breathe on me- britney spears
Heavy- anne-marie
Monsters- all time low feat demi lovato
Hard for me- michele morrone
Ashes- celine dion
Lose you to love me- selena gomez
Never tear us apart- bishop briggs
Say- ruel
Monsters- shinedown
I can’t stay away- the veronicas
Consequences- camila cabello
Love in the dark- leroy sanchez
Anchor- cailee rae
Love is war- runaground
I belong to you- jacob lee
Anyone- travis atreo
Play with fire- sam tinnesz feat yacht money
Without you- the kid laroi
Hold on- chord overstreet
Walked through hell- anson seabra
Crazy in love remix- beyonce
Throne- bring me the horizon
Control- zoe wees
Run to you- lea michele
Breathe- lauv
Beautiful- michele morrone
Fighting for me- riley clemmons
Play it on Spotify here.
Glossary
Italian to english
Piccolina- little one
Cazzo- dick
Ti amo- I love you
Citta dei gattini- kitten town
Fammi mangiare la tua figa- let me eat your pussy
Succhiami il cazzo- suck my dick
Traitore- traitor
Capo-boss.
Tia AMO Cara- I love you, darling
fanculo- fuck.
Ti amo, Piccolina.- I love you, little one
Ti amo, Il mio re.- I love you, my king
cagna- bitch
padre- father
Hai riconsiderato ragazzo-you reconsidered boy
Rispetto- respect
E un tuo diritto di nascita- it is your birthright
E il tuo futuro- it’s your future.
il sangue e sangue- blood is blood
Lo faro- I’ll do it
Fino al nostro prossimo incontro- until we meet again
Figlio- son
Ne vale la pena- is she worth it
Culo-ass
Guarda la tua fottuta lingua- watch your fucking tongue
affare o no- deal or no deal
finirlo- end him
Si Capo- yes, boss
Giu giacobbe- down, Jacob
Mostro- monster
Non ti farà più del male, bambina-he won’t hurt you ever again baby
Sputalo e basta-just spit it out
Saggia-wise
Sorella-sister
bellissima- gorgeous
E ora di portare il tuo uomo qui- time to bring your man here
Prendi la fotocamera- get the camera
Pulirla, La lego di nuovo- clean her up, bound her again
Mi prendero cura di te- I’ll take care of you
puttana- whore
Patetico- pathetic
Bastardo- bastard
traditore- traitor
fallo- do it
amico- friend
Vaffanculo father- fuck you father
Tu pagherai- you will pay
senza valore- worthless
stronzi- assholes
famiglia- family
vita mia- my life
Come vuoi-as you wish
Fanculo, baby- fuck, baby
Quella bocca- that mouth
Voglio assaggiarti- I want to taste you
Continua, bambino- continue baby
Cazzo si- fuck yes
Sei venuto- did you come
Maledetta donna- god damn, woman
Sono venuto solo succhiandoti il cazzo- I came just by your cock
Brava ragazza- good girl
Ragazzi abbastanza- boys, enough
E tempo- it’s time
principesse- princesses
Prologue
Twenty-six-years old
The sound of bone crunching sends a jolt through my hand, but I know it’s not mine that has broken.
Ever since I was young, I knew there would be a day I would take over from my father, my life would become nothing but a world of pain. I’m almost regretting ever agreeing to it. A small part of me loves it, craves it. I know it’s wrong, but that small percentage of me doesn’t give a fuck.
I wipe my bloody lip, ignoring the blood dripping down my face from the hit the fucker got on me, cocking my shoulder and springing on my feet. I wait for the guy I just knocked on his ass to decide if he wants another round.
“ Cazzo- dick.” he mutters under his breath.
I Chuckle. “Succhiami il cazzo.- suck my dick.” I flip him the bird and walk off when I see him down for the count.
I don’t help him up. The monster in me thrives on seeing them on the ground, seeing the way they struggle to breathe after I've demolished them.
Fighting comes naturally to me, the adrenaline pumps through my veins as each hit does more damage. In this world you have to learn to become tough. I was a mafioso. It was in my blood.
I was all my father had left, I had no siblings, and one day I would lead our family name until I passed that duty to my own son.
I was nearly thirty. Soon enough, my father would step down and give me his kingdom. He had told me I had to earn my place at his side before I could become him.
I didn’t want it. The last thing I want was to be him. But I couldn’t take it back and I sure as hell can’t change who I’m meant to be. I thought I could once, I tried.
I never wanted this, and I know that this was the last thing my mother wanted for me. I remember the night before she was murdered she told me she could see amazing things in my future and that I was going to do great things. They may have been true if she hadn’t been taken from me and I didn’t spiral out of control to shut out the demons.
My world had become a constant darkness.
By the time I was seventeen I was hooked on drugs, anything I could get.
My addiction is my own punishment,
but it helps numb the pain. The loss of my mother is a burden I’ll always carry.
My father turns a blind eye, pretending I’m not high most of the time. Even though I’m his flesh and blood, my father only pays me any attention when I do something to warrant it.
It’s one of the reasons I hate this place. Hate him.
The high helps numb the pain. I feel every day for her, the loss, the deceit, but most of all the guilt every single day. I should have saved her, I should have done something. I want it to take me, take me away. End what I can’t.
I'm too weak to do it myself so I wallow in self pity as my mother's voice haunts me. Getting high is the only thing that stops her voice; it's the only way I feel any peace.
Even if only for a while.
I should burn for what I did. I hate the man I’ve become. I’ve become everything I ever hated, but living with her ghost never gets easier. I want to end my father for what he did to her. I want to see the life drain from his eyes just like hers did. But again I’m too damn fucking weak.
I know he had something to do with her death. It isn't so plain and simple. I may have only been young when my mother was taken from this world, but even my brain was smart enough to figure out my father was behind it.
It’s the how and why I have to find out, something even to this day I never could.
This world isn’t for the weak hearted, you have to have an ironclad stomach for seeing the gore that roams the halls. My father is an evil man. He has done some diabolical things over the years, and I know I’ll never be him, not in that sense.
Do I have a dark side?
Of course I fucking do, I’m a monster lurking beneath the shadows, but the softer side I know is hidden beneath that dark layer just need the right somebody to bring it out.
My father showed me my future yesterday. Not just the ins and out of the business but the one thing that might not make this life so damn miserable.
It was in a sense one sided. Simply because she knew nothing about me.
Not yet anyway.
To say I was surprised was an understatement to think she had been handpicked just for me.
She was otherworldly.
Excitement fills my body knowing she would be mine.
The possessiveness that I have to learn to control the moment she officially becomes mine stirs inside me.
Her beauty is unfathomable, exquisite.
She has been promised to me, and not only will she have to accept due to the deal our fathers made, but she will have no other choice but to fall in love with me.
After all, I am Bishop Demetrius.
I always get what I want. This sweet beauty will soon realize I am a man of my word.
One day soon, I will claim her as my bride, and until that day I’d keep my distance.
Waiting.
Watching.
Devouring.
Seventeen years old
All my life my parents have told me who to be and what I need. I’ve never had a choice in much at all.
My existence has been spent living in a cage. My father is one of the wealthiest men in New York City. The lifestyle my parents live isn’t how I see my future. I’ve lived a pampered upbringing. I loathe dressing up in the latest high end fashions, the glitz and glam just isn’t who I am.
I don’t see the point in always being perfect. Why do you have to try so hard to be beautiful? Can’t I be beautiful in something that doesn’t cost more than most people will ever be able to afford?
My parents have built an endless life of misery. Day and night the outside world taunts me, and I yearn for more.
I hate my life. I want to be normal, to find my own friends, not girls my parents deemed worthy, just because of their social status or their parents’ bank accounts. God, they are profusely boring, meek at best and so fake it hurts my head talking to them.
Moving away from the only friend I ever knew had gutted me. I don’t understand why I had to always be perfect—, nobody is, we all make mistakes, it’s a part of being human. But my parents do nothing half-way it’s all in or not in at all.
My mother wants me to be the perfect carbon copy of her, to fall in line beside my husband and be as plastic as possible. My twenty-first birthday will soon be approaching, and that means only one thing.
Some suitable suitor my parents hand-picked, who will increase their social status even more than it already is. Some man I'll be forced to marry simply because they deem him fit.
I honestly can’t remember the last time my parents asked me how I feel, or included me in anything other to make it look like on the outside, our family is perfect. For once I want to scream at them for being so bluntly pathetic and cold, but I can never find the courage to voice my inner thoughts.
It isn't as fun as they make it out to be. The glitz and glamour makes people fake, it turned my mother into someone I despise. Even though her smile is a hoax, there is nothing about my mother that’s real anymore.
Do I really want to become like her?
To become someone I despise every time I look in the mirror?
This lifestyle is privileged and controlled down to the very last detail. Even my friends were picked for me. Except for one— I picked her all on my own. She’s as real as you can get. I hate my forced friends, and it was a mutual feeling; they’re not real friends. I always thought I was pathetic.
I’ve tried to be that carbon copy of my mother, but I can’t fake the feelings deep inside. It drains me mentally and physically every time I have to play along to my parents’ wishes.
I want more for myself. I deserve more than to just be a pawn in my father's plans.
He told me that when I turned eighteen, I would meet my future husband. Like it was the eighteen-hundreds and he had traded me for a goat—, and I am worth way more than a fucking goat. Of course, waiting was never my father’s best attribute.
I tried for a while to go along with his so-called plan for me, but the moment Eric, my ‘future’ husband, raised his hand to me, I knew there was no way I was going to marry that man, even if it was arranged by our fathers.
At first he didn’t hit me, just held up his fist to scare me like he was telling me if he wanted to, he could.
I deserve better; I deserve more.
I told my father I want to attend college with my best friend. I met Luna before I moved back to The Hamptons over summer. I told him I want to experience life before he made me marry a man of his choosing.
After heated arguments and promises on my end—, because otherwise my parents would never have agreed to let me leave the house let alone attend a college away from home— my father finally agreed to let me attend NYU, but of course, I have someone in the background watching me, and if I put a foot out of line, I’m bound for hell with the man I hate the most in this world.
I hate my father for putting me in that position, for not letting me make my own choices. He told me I would come to love Eric. It would just take time.
Like it’s that simple.
The only reason he even agreed to marry me off was because Eric’s parents are big investors who will make him a butt-load more money. He’s greedy like that; he loves his money more than he loves me, his own flesh and blood.
I’ve grown up in a world where everything is handed to me on a silver platter. You would think it would have made me a spoiled brat, but I’m nothing like that. I’m strong and independent. Okay, even I’ll admit it comes out at times, but sometimes I can't help it.
I’m determined to show them I’m not a puppet to be commandeered. I don't want a life like that. I don’t want the lies and the pain I know will come to me. Eric will make me suffer. I’m not an obedient servant he can pull in line. I will never let a man treat me like I’m his possession. I deserve true love like in the fairy-tales I read as a little girl.
I only hope in the time I attend college, I can somehow convince my father Eric isn’t the man for me. That he’s sealing me to a fate worse than death
if he makes me marry that dreadful man.
Maybe I could somehow be too much for Eric. If I channel that over-the-top true spoiled brat, he’ll think I’m too much of a hassle and not worth it after all — that the thought of marrying me isn't worth tarnishing his perfect reputation, that the idea of me being his wife is more than he could bear. It isn't worth the risk.
It has to work, it just has to, there’s no way I’m marrying a man like Eric. I would rather die than become his wife.
My life is mine, not Eric’s, and it sure as hell is not my father’s. I’m my own person.
I don’t want darkness and betrayal, I want true love and my happily ever after.