A Virgin By Contract To A Wealthy Hood Bully – Vee Bryant

“Stay here,” he said, his voice low and firm, an order disguised as a request. “I’ll handle it.” She let him walk out of the room before she slid out from under the covers. The cool air hit her skin, and she felt a surge of clarity, of purpose. She walked over to the heap of silk on the floor and picked up her dress. As she shimmied into it, the fabric whispering against her skin, her feet started moving before she’d even made a conscious decision, carrying her toward the sound of the trouble.

She walked down the short hallway, her bare feet silent on the cool hardwood floor. The voices grew clearer, sharper as she approached the living room. Grey stood a few feet away, his posture defensive, his hands held up in a gesture of placation. He looked like a man trying to reason with a force of nature and failing. Jackie was mid-rant, her voice a crescendo of fury, her finger jabbing the air in Grey’s direction.

“You don’t get to just erase me! I gave you the best years of my life, you ungrateful son of a—” It was then that her eyes flickered, catching a movement in the periphery. She glanced past Grey’s shoulder, and her tirade cut off with a sudden, sharp gasp, like she’d been punched in the gut. Her rant died in her throat, the anger on her face freezing for a split second before melting into a new, more venomous expression.

Her eyes, wide with shock, narrowed to slits, her gaze locking onto Imani with the predatory focus of a hawk spotting a mouse. The entire room froze. Grey turned his head slightly, his shoulders slumping as he saw Imani standing there, a silent confirmation of the scene Jackie had clearly been picturing in her worst nightmares.

All the energy, all the rage, all the pain in the room pivoted, zeroing in on the woman in the hallway. Jackie took a step forward, her designer heel silent on the floor, her head tilting as she took in Imani, from her messy hair, to the barely zipped dress, to her bare feet. Her gaze was a physical thing, a dismissive, contemptuous scrape that was meant to flay Imani’s skin.

When she finally spoke, her voice was no longer a loud shriek; it was cold and dripping with a condescension that was way more insulting than any shout. “And who the fuck are you?”

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental. This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. Copyright © 2026 VEE BRYANT Published by Tiece Presents, LLC All rights reserved. Including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof, in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the author.

Khadejah stood in the bathroom that morning, the low hum of the old refrigerator a familiar drone from the next room. Eighteen. The number echoed in her head, but it didn’t land with the promised thud of adulthood. It just floated there, weightless and meaningless. Her toothbrush was paused mid-air, a fleck of white paste clinging to the bristles.

In the mirror, a stranger looked back, a girl with the same dark, knowing eyes she’d always had, but something else had settled in around them. A weariness. A tension that lived in the set of her jaw and the slight furrow in her brow. She leaned closer, her breath fogging the cool glass. When did that happen? she wondered. When did the softness of her cheeks give way to the sharp, tired lines of a woman who’d already seen too much?

She looked like somebody’s mama, she thought, not somebody’s daughter. Her eyes always seemed alert, bracing for impact, even when nothing was coming. She couldn’t remember how to relax her face anymore, how to let the muscles go slack and just be. Eighteen didn’t feel grown. It felt exposed. Like a layer of protective childhood had been stripped away, leaving her bare to the elements.

The world was finally allowed to ask more of her, to demand more, without offering any kind of shield in return.

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.

Book Information

• Unique ID: b394edab65abcd32
• File Extension: .pdf
• File Size: 5,837,638 bytes (5.567 MB)
• Title: –
• Author: Unknown
• Pages: 183
• Language: English (en)

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• Estimated Reading Time: 291.98 minutes
• Total Words: 58,396
• Total Characters: 325,217
• Average Words per Page: 319.1
• Average Characters per Page: 1777.14

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