Blossom in Winter (Blossom in Winter #1)(33)

“I can call Anthony, Dad’s driver. Don’t bother,” she snarls, her arms still folded.

“I told your father I would drive you home.”

“And? You always do what you say?”

“For the Van Gatts, yes.”





Jimmy Van Dieren





I wake up with a huge headache and someone pressing his finger nonstop on the doorbell. Goddammit! Make it stop! I try hard to stand up and stay steady on my feet. Fuck, I can barely see with so much darkness. I drag myself to the hallway of my suite and open the door. Mercifully, it’s Alex... with another man I don’t recognize.

“Oh, bro! You have no—”

Alex grabs my neck so hard I can barely breathe. He and his friend make their way in, closing the door behind them.

“How are you, Jimmy?” he asks, his fingers tightening on my neck.

I nearly faint from the lack of oxygen. WTF is wrong with him? My mouth remains wide open as I try to drag some precious air into my lungs. Since I can’t even talk, he releases me. And when I finally take a breath, he punches me in the face with so much strength that I fall down. “Fuck!” Finding my nose bleeding, I scream in pain. “Goddammit! Stop!”

But he grabs my T-shirt in rage and lifts me off the ground, his face deadly threatening. “Wasn’t that what Petra told you when you tried to rape her?” Another punch. This time in my stomach. That’s it—I throw up my entire night on the floor. “Argh! Disgusting!” Alex takes a step back, avoiding the vomit.

My body is exhausted. Shaking, I collapse on the carpet behind me. “I don’t know! Leave me alone!” I keep sobbing, my face scarlet and with tears streaming down. Jeez, I feel my head’s about to explode.

“You’re so damn lucky she’s not gonna report you. Now get up. We’ve got paperwork for you.”

He’s insane! I can barely stand on my feet, my nose is bleeding, I’ve got a terrible headache, but he expects me to read and sign papers?

Since I’m not obeying, Alex grabs me by the neck again, dragging me like I’m some sort of trash bag to the dining area of the suite. There he forces me to sit on a chair.

Fucking asshole.

“You’ll delete her phone number. And never ever try to get in touch with her again. Are we clear?”

I nod, swallowing the rest of the vomit stuck in my throat.

His friend takes a stack of papers from his briefcase and puts them in front of me. It looks like a contract.

Alex takes a seat beside me and hands me a pen. “Since you are no longer fit to be part of this family, you’ll renounce our father’s name and his heritage. You’ll change your name to Jimmy Visser.” That’s my mother’s last name. WTF? “You’ll also renounce your right to his nobility title and to his inheritance.”

Pfff, I might be half dead but I’m not dumb. Renouncing my father’s title and his fortune? Yeah, right... “And what if I don’t accept?” I dare to ask.

He gives me a side smile that’s enough to scare the hell out of me. “I don’t think you have a choice.” He pauses. “Unless you consider death an option.”

My jaw drops in horror. This man has nothing but evil in his eyes. Terrified by his threat, I remain still and quiet in my chair. After all, I’ve heard some rumors about my brother and his family when dealing with enemies—or anyone they deem threatening—but, damn, would he be capable of going that far?

“Would you go as far as killing your own brother?”

“I no longer have a brother, Jimmy. To me, you are dead,” he announces so stoically that I shiver. “Now, if you want us to handle this as diplomatically as possible, kindly sign the agreement.”

At that instant, I want to throw up what is left of me on the table. But instead, I swallow my fear, reach for the pen, and sign the fucking contract. “Here. All signed. I’m no longer part of your stupid and crazy family. Now, can you leave me alone?”

His friend, probably a lawyer or something, takes the contract, verifies my signature, and nods to Alex.

“I have no intention of staying any longer,” he adds, standing up. “Goodbye, Jimmy.”





Petra Van Gatt





I sit in the shower, my legs bent to my chest, letting the water fall over my hair and body. It feels like déjà vu. I had the same disgusting taste in my mouth following Emma’s farewell party. I put my head down and let myself cry for a brief moment. What a useless waste of time and money spent on this bastard. My overpriced clothes are lying on the floor. I wash off my makeup, feeling angry, deceived, and furious, but mainly with myself. I should’ve seen this coming. Damn, Petra. Even my godfather warned me. Pfff, what a dumbass I was to think Jimmy liked me. It’s time to stop listening to my stupid hormones, which are just landing me in dangerous situations. From now on, I’ll follow Dad’s advice—no more boys for me. I’ll remain focused on my internship and my studies at Columbia.

After getting out of the shower, I observe my naked figure in the mirror. Pale, fragile, too skinny, curveless are just some of the words that come to mind. I can see my collarbone sticking out. My cheek is still marked, but thankfully I’m not bruised. There’s one thing I particularly like about my body though: my breasts. They are small, but fully circular, round, and firm. My areolas are not big either, and they’re of a warm pink that perfectly matches my fair tone. My nipples are pointing outwards. I’ve realized that they become harder and more pronounced with fear. I take my jasmine moisturizer and rub some on my neck, my shoulders, my arms, and the rest of my body. Afterward, I put on my white cotton pajamas and go to my bedroom, plunging inside my fluffy, warm bed. Ha! There is no place like home.