Fighting for Dominance

Stubborn

Needs to be edited majorly. I apologize for my poor writing skills in the beginning chapters. The Arabic is not all correct; I did my best, please don't comment on it. I hope you enjoy. :)

This book is shit.

A princess. That is what I am treated like. Materially. A princess held prisoner in her tower, that is what I am. My mother and father died  in a car accident when I was 12, so I was left with two options: live with my grandparents or foster care. I almost chose the latter.

"Fae, today is the Banquet, you haven't forgotten? You need to begin getting dressed. The blue satin with these heels." Grandmother said as she held up some deadly looking heels. Shit.
"Oh of course how could I have forgotten a Banquet with the most snobby, rich as-"
"FAE."

"Fine. Getting dressed now. You can leave." I excused her. She cleared her throat as I braced myself for the lecture to come.
"The McKinley's are family friends and have been for ages. I expect you to be on your best behavior and to NOT "accidentally" push Mrs. Kenna into the fountain this year" I snorted. Hah, fuck that shit. Best behavior my ass. The McKinely's live to judge me, as well as my grandmother. That bïtch deserved it.

"I don't regret a thing." I said, dismissing her suggestion.
"Fae."
"Yes my sweet and oh so loving grandmother?" I replied innocently, sarcasm lacing my tone.

"I am serious-"
"Aren't you always? Have I ever gotten to have a little fun? Trust me, I know you're "serious" it seems to be the only emotion you can portray. That and disappointment of course."

"Micheal." She called my grandfather.
I gasped dramatically. "Oh Grandmother, did you just raise your voice in the house? What about our chandelier? You might break it." Such a fùcking hypocrite. Whenever I so much as talk above a whisper I am accused of almost breaking the chandelier. With as much as that thing costs, we could end world hunger.

"Yes Dear?" My grandfather asked.
"Talk to this unlady-like child. I am done"
"I am done" I mocked in her nasally tone as she walked out of my room.

"Fae sweetheart, another argument?" Then there's Grandfather. He understands that I want to be free. That maybe life isn't all about how many yachts you own or how high your annual income is. Maybe heels hurt like little motherfuckers and I sometimes I might want a break from criticism.

"She started it." I said innocently, knowing he would take my side. I saw a ghost if a smile tug at his lips.
"And how is that, young lady?"
"Look at these fucking shoes Gramps! She's trying to disable me"

"Language my dearest, what shoe-well fuck me. Those are some big as- I- goodness you poor thing." He quickly covered, eyeing the heels.
"Stilts. They're damn stilts."
He chuckled and wrapped me in a hug.

"You are putting your grandmother through quite some stress. You never-"
"Listen. Obey. I know. And she might as well get used to it. I'm not listening to that hag. You're too pale. Gold your napkin the correct way. Cross your legs. Be a lady."

"Fae. Don't speak of her like that. You know she wants the best for you. Now come downstairs when you're all cooled down for brunch. Everything will be alright."

He exited and walked downstairs into the dining area. My grandparents own a yachting company, which explains a lot. Well, my grandfather does. Grandmother doesn't do shit.

This is my life. Banquets, yacht parties, maids, and worst of all? Judgmental snobs. The perks of this life are: bed sheets. Satin bed sheets, which are great. Fucking great.