
LOVING THE BAD BOY XANDER
- Genre: Billionaire/CEO
- Author: Belle Reid
- Chapters: 7
- Status: Ongoing
- Age Rating: 18+
- 👁 19
- ⭐ 5.0
- 💬 0
Annotation
Lauren Heather’s miserable life got worse when she was sold off to a Ruthless Mafia lord in exchange for her Father’s hospital bills. Xander Valhalla will do anything to keep Lauren alive so she can be Catrina’s donor. Just when she thought things would never get better between them, he started to warm up to her. Will she be able to push her fear aside and love him? Or will she take advantage of his building trust to escape his prison-like mansion?
Chapter 1: IT ALL FALLS DOWN
LAUREN'S POV
The antiseptic smell burnt my nose as I walked through the hospital halls. I wouldn't say I liked this place; I hated this place. It reminded me of too much. My father's illness, my stepmother's utter contempt for me, and the loss I had to endure.
My father, Frank Heathers, was a tough man. I never saw him cry, even when my mother died, but her death broke him. we He eventually got married a couple of years later to Alicia, a blonde, blue-eyed woman he had met at a bar. Everything seemed to be going so well until he suddenly fell ill.
My Father's hand felt so fragile in mine, his strong frame now skeletal. I struggled to hide my tears, but I just couldn't.
"Please don't go," I whispered, wishing he could hear my desperate plea.
“I can't do this without you here, please, Dad!” I sobbed shakily. He was my anchor for so long; I was terrified of what would come without him.
I sensed my stepmother's coming into the ward room; her clipped clicking heels grating on my nerves.
Alicia.
Polished and proper as ever, oozing fake concern. But I could see through her phony facade that there was ice where her heart should be. Dad may have fallen for her years ago, but I never had.
“Lauren,” she said, her voice smooth and detached, like her dying husband wasn't in front of her. “You should get some rest. This whole act isn't doing you any good.”
“Act?!” I screamed.
“What do you mean by that?! My father is dying right in front of me, and there's absolutely nothing I can do about it, and you believe I'm putting up an act? What is wrong with you?”
I could feel the blood rush to my skull.
How could she be so insensitive? Who was this woman, and how in the heavens did my dad fall in love with her?
“Listen to me, Lauren, there's something you can do.” She said, with a calculative tone to her voice.
“It's a sacrifice, but it will make things better for your father and all of us.” She continued. I knew this wasn't going to turn out well for me, but I couldn't place a finger on what exactly she wanted.
I turned to face her. “ What’re you talking about?”.
“There's a little girl, and she's in severe need. I've arranged for you to help her out. She needs a kidney, and you're a match.” A wry smile spread across her face as she spoke.
“ What do you mean? You want me to sell my kidney; are you insane?” I screamed at her. This situation was unreal. What was happening?
“It's a necessary sacrifice to save your father, Lauren. The money will be put into his treatment, and everything can return to how it used to be.” She said coolly; there wasn't remorse or empathy in those icy blue eyes, just contempt.
But I couldn't let him die. I had no choice.
The surgery blurred past in lights and masks; the steel table felt cold as it rested against my back. I focused on counting down slowly, praying this would save Dad as the anesthesia took hold. My last thought was a desperate plea for more time with him.
I woke up sore and foggy, hoping for reassurance. But Alicia's gaze held no warmth—only calculation.
The house seemed colder without Dad's presence to buffer her scheming. I tried recovering in my room, but her laughter echoing through the halls with Alana and Briana, my stepsisters hurt worse than any wound. Once again, I was left to fend for myself while they basked in her affection.
All I wanted was for Dad to get better. But no matter how much I begged the doctors, I couldn't get a straight answer from anyone. Alicia controlled everything—the money, decisions, information. I was an afterthought, a tool for her to use up and discard. Seeing Dad's condition worsen each day while she pulled the strings from the shadows was more than I could bear. There had to be a way to save him from her grasp...if only I knew how.
Alana and Briana hated me. I couldn't find an exact reason, but I tried not to. On one occasion, I had been sitting alone in the kitchen, scribbling on an old grocery note -anything to distract from the suffocating tension that had consumed our home since Dad got sick. I could still hear the faint beeping of his monitors replaying in my head, torturing me with the knowledge that he was miles away, fighting without me by his side.
The door banged open, and Alana strutted in, long hair swinging. Briana trailed behind, her nose buried in her phone. Alana's glare cut right through me as she leaned against the counter, tapping fingernails that were always perfect.
"Whatcha doing, b*tch?" she sneered.
I ignored her usual jabs, focusing on doodles that barely calmed my racing thoughts. Why did they insist on making me feel like an outsider in the only place that still feels like home?
"Just writing," I mumbled, hoping they'd leave me if I seemed small enough.
Alana's piercing laugh confirmed my misery was her entertainment. "Who do you think would care about your nonsense?"
Briana said coolly, "Oh please, like losing a kidney makes you special. Get over yourself."
I balled my hands into fists under the table. If only they knew what that surgery cost me—the slicing, the waking alone in pain, the broken promises that still ache deep in my soul. But they'd never understand.
"Mom's taking us shopping," Alana trilled, waving me away like a pesky fly. "Maybe she'll spare you scraps if you're lucky."
Briana smirked, appraising me with distaste. "As if you'd know what to do with anything nice. You're just pathetic."
I flew up, chair legs shrieking, tears blurring my vision. "You don't have to be like this," I pleaded. "I'm trying to help Dad, like you should."
Alana's eyes rolled in practiced boredom. "Dad's as good as dead. Mom says he's a lost cause, and she's the only reason we have anything. So thank her."
Her words struck me hard, confirming my fears —that they already see Dad as gone, that his life barely matters to the parade of luxury they envision without him, without me.
"Besides," Briana added slyly, "Dad probably regrets you. Mom says marrying your mom was his mistake, and he can't wait to ditch you for good."
My breath caught in grief—hearing my stepmother's poison spread from their lips was too much to bear. Every day, I slip further from the family I knew, and it's plain they want me gone for good.
"You're wrong," I whispered shakily, needing to believe Dad still holds me close. But their laughter drowned any hope left in my heart.
On my way to my room, I heard a voice from Dad's study. It was Alicia; she was on the phone with someone
“Just transfer the shares and be snappy with it. I don't have the time or resources to waste on a dead man.” Bank statements, legal documents, and bank ledgers surrounded her.
“The girl? Ha, immediately her father's dead, she's out of here. I'm tossing that raggedy child to the streets.”
The truth suddenly crashed on me: this woman wasn't slightly concerned about what would happen to her father; she didn't care what happened to her. She was waiting like a vulture to claim what was never hers.
I fled to my room, where I crumbled to the floor, chest heaving with sobs. I wept for my missing father, my shattered family, and the home that would never shelter me again.
Chapter 2: MEET THE BADBOY
LAUREN'S POV
Days faded into weeks, and I could feel the pressure slowly grip me like a noose around my neck.
Something wrong was happening, something very wrong, and it made me horrified. I confronted Alicia about it, but she consistently brushed it off. I was losing my grip on everything, and she enjoyed every moment. Occasionally, I saw her eyes gleam with satisfaction whenever she saw me struggle.
It felt like I was on the brink of insanity; the cool demeanor in the house seemed to be the calm before the storm.
I always felt like it couldn't get worse until that night.
I still remember how tightly my hands gripped the bars at the top of the staircase. There she stood, the witch, my stepmother, getting all chatty with two men while her husband, my father, was fighting for his life on a hospital bed.
‘Who are those people?’ I almost thought out loud.
Dressed in a sleek blac