Captured by the Bad Boy
Description
Elle Willsmith, the scholarship kid at De-Fountain Academy, has spent years being tormented by Noah Bennett, the golden boy who always humiliated her. But when Elle unexpectedly wins a prestigious music contest, the attention she receives forces her to confront her past, including Noah, who starts acting strangely protective of her. As they navigate their complicated history, Elle must decide if she can trust the boy who once tore her down and if she's ready to let go of her painful past to embrace the future she deserves.
Chapter 1
May 22, 2025
The rooftop party was in full swing, but none of the laughter, the mingling, or the clinking of glasses reached me. My focus was sharp, my body taut with the knowledge of what was about to go down. Tonight wasn’t about business. It wasn’t about the fake smiles or the corporate pleasantries. It was about revenge. It was about my darkest past..
I stood at the entrance, a trench coat hanging off my shoulders, the smooth fabric covering the only thing that mattered tonight, what was beneath. Lace and silk. All of it a reminder of how far I’d come. How much I’d changed. How much he had no idea who I was anymore.
I could feel the eyes on me as I entered the party. Men tried not to stare, their gazes lingering a little too long. Women looked at me with jealousy and curiosity, as though trying to figure out what I was doing here. I didn’t care. I never did.
I wasn’t here for attention. I was here to make him feel small, to make him realize exactly what he had thrown away. I was here to destroy the last vestiges of that horrible, insecure girl he used to make fun of.
When I found him, I felt a rush of satisfaction. There he was, Tristan Hale. The bastard who had ruined my self-esteem for years. Who had made me feel like I wasn’t worthy of anything. The same guy who used to call me fat, ugly, and laugh about it with his friends. He was here, and he looked confused. Like he knew who I was, but still couldn’t put his fingers on it.
Good. Let him struggle. Let him feel the weight of that recognition sink in.
His gaze flickered over me, slowly, scanning from my heels to my face. There it was a flash of recognition. His lips parted, and I could almost hear his thoughts: No fucking way. But his eyes said everything. That flicker of shock showed in his eyes.
I smirked, letting it sink in, and then I closed the distance between us, making sure every step was calculated, every move a reminder of who I was now.
“Hi Tristan,” I said, the name tasting sharp on my tongue, like a weapon aimed right at him. His gaze shifted, frozen for just a second as he choked on his drink. I could practically hear him trying to catch up to the reality of the situation. I had that effect on people. Always had, even when I didn’t believe it.
He cleared his throat, fumbling with his glass, trying to regain control, but the confusion in his eyes was unmistakable. He didn’t know how to handle me now. “Mia? I... I didn’t realize it was you,” he said, blinking like a deer caught in headlights. “Wow. You’ve... changed.”
Of course, he recognized me.
“You think?” I said with a wicked smile, my eyes narrowing. “Well, you didn’t exactly leave me with the best memories. You’re probably having a hard time reconciling the ugly fat girl from high school now huh?.” I gestured to my body, letting the weight of my words hit him.
His face flickered with surprise, and I couldn’t help but drink in the moment. The arrogant, untouchable Tristan I remembered from high school was now on the back foot, caught off guard, unsure of how to respond. Good, I thought. Let him squirm.
“Well, I gotta admit, you were a lot more fun when you were... well... a little less pretty,” he said, trying to recover with that smirk of his. It didn’t work. His eyes were betraying him. I could see the way they lingered on my body, the way his tongue darted out to wet his lips.
I leaned in closer, watching his discomfort unfold. I whispered to him. “Funny,” I said. “I remember you being the one who called me fat, ugly, a lost cause, didn’t you? You told me no guy would ever want me, remember? You and your little friends laughed at me for hours. So what’s this? Some sort of amnesia? Because last time I checked, I was the ugly fat girl, right?”
He flinched, and there it was. That soft, vulnerable moment, like a crack in his usual cocky armor. But he couldn’t let it show. He laughed, trying to dismiss it, but it wasn’t the same. It didn’t have the sting it used to.
“I mean, I wouldn’t go that far,” he muttered, his voice defensive but tinged with something else. “You weren’t that bad. You had potential. But you were way too full of yourself.”
“Too full of myself?” I scoffed, not backing down. “That’s rich coming from the guy who used to make my life hell. You think I don’t remember those days? The insults, the jokes, the way you used to poke fun at my body, call me disgusting? You ruined me. You broke me down and built yourself up at my expense. And now you stand here, drooling at me like I’m some prize?”
His eyes narrowed, that familiar arrogance seeping back in. “You’ve certainly grown into yourself, I’ll give you that. But don’t get too cocky. I’m still the one with the power here.”
The words stung, but I didn’t let them show. Power? This was about more than just power. This was about showing him that the person he used to mock wasn’t the same anymore. This was about making him realize that I wasn’t some weak little girl waiting for him to tear me down.
I reached up, fingers grazing the knot on my coat. I untied it slowly, letting the fabric fall open. I wasn’t doing this for attention. I was doing this for him. For every time he had belittled me. For every time he had made me feel like nothing.
But before I could reveal what was underneath, he yanked the coat from my hands, his grip tight and unyielding. His breath came in quick bursts, his jaw clenched. He was furious now. But I could see the raw desire in his eyes. The struggle between wanting to dominate me and wanting to fuck me was written all over his face.
“No,” he growled, his voice tight with frustration. “Don’t do this.”
“Don’t do what?” I leaned in, watching the battle rage within him. “Are you afraid? Or just upset that you don’t get to control this? You used to be able to tear me down with your words. Now I’m the one standing here with all the power.”
He glared at me, holding the coat like it was the last shred of control he had left. His voice was low, a challenge in itself. “You think you’ve got me figured out? You’re still the same whiny little girl who couldn’t handle a little teasing. I can still make you regret this.”
“You won’t,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “You lost that power a long time ago. I’m not the scared little girl who used to beg for your approval. I don’t need it. I don’t need anything from you.”
Captured by the Bad Boy
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