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Cinderella Tutored Her Bully

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“Ow c’mon, Camilla." I let out my best fake laugh. “You’re the only person who could help me, and maybe I can help you, too…” “With what?” “You know I’d been thinking about this a hundred times, so I have a generous proposition for you.” she stayed silent waiting for me, so I continued. “I need you to tutor me in practically everything you’re good at, but you need a little tutoring in practically everything I’m good at.” "So, what is your offer?” “You tutor me in school, and I tutor you on how to… kiss?” I waited for a reply as Camilla’s face contorted into shock and confusion. She had turned beetroot, and she looked like she was about to cry. ********** Camilla Hemmings aimed to leave her wicked stepmother and evil stepsister behind because they treated her bad, and made her do the household chores and beat her. The only difference was that her stepmother sent her to school, but on one condition. She had to hide her identity by donning a curly wig and big round glasses. And just like Cinderella, she also has a Prince Charming but unfortunately, he was bullying her. Camilla tried her best to hide her feelings for Cole Lewis. However, the stupid cupid played his role and let them cross their paths in an unexpected way.

Chapter 1



“You should get ready, Camilla…’’ A moment after I had returned from the garden, where I had been picking up flowers, my stepfather, Gaston, gave me an order as soon as I stepped into the living room. His unavoidable gazes swept over my body, and they stopped on the red roses I was holding in my hands, before they raked over my body. He groaned as he added, “The Lavigne family is coming here any minute now…’’

I nodded my head politely as I handed the flowers to the maid who had been instructed by my stepfather to take the flowers from my hands. “Please put them in a vase and bring them to my room. Thank you, Anita…’’ I mumbled before I headed my way to the stairs down the basement, but I abruptly stopped in the center of the living room when I heard a loud voice coming from the second level of the house.

“Dad, I’m ready!” Monique exclaimed as she stood on the top step of the stairs, making a pose like she was a supermodel. She was wearing ridiculously tight clothes, an extremely low cut and not leaving much to the imagination. Her strawberry blonde hair cascaded against her shoulders and back, and her make-up was done to perfection.

She really looked like a human Barbie doll. So beautiful, but her attitude...

I sighed, not wanting to think about it anymore.

Gaston informed me last night that the Lavigne family would be coming here today to discuss the arranged wedding between Monique and the only son of the Lavignes, Jayden Lavigne. He said that they made a deal with the Lavignes in order to ensure that the project would have increased security and a guarantee for continued investments and projects in the future.

I watched Monique as she slowly made her way down the stairs. A maid was holding her hand, assisting her in descending. As soon as she reached the bottom, I noticed how perfect her legs were with those silver stiletto heels. The fingers on her toes were painted red, matched with her perfectly manicured fingers.

Monique looked truly happy to be marrying someone she didn’t even know. And I was aware that she had a boyfriend, whom she had just met at school. If Matthew discovered that his girlfriend of two years would be marrying another man, I really have no idea what he would do to Monique.

“Why aren’t you dressed up yet?” Monique's lovely smile instantly faded away when her evil eyes landed on me. “I don’t want my soon-to-be groom to have the impression that we're not treating you well….’’ She snapped, crossing her arms over her chest, and raked her eyes over my body.

I looked down, biting my lip.

My biological mother died from giving birth to me, and when I reached ten months old, my father married again. Monique and I grew up together. She was born after I turned two. Everything was good and perfect when we were younger. We were the best of friends, and we loved each other so much that no one could ever separate us.

She had everything that my father had to buy for me as well. We had the same size of bedroom, and we were treated like a princess by our dad and her mom, Deborah. But everything had changed when dad passed away, and that was after I turned seven.

Aunt Deborah made the basement my room, and started to beat me every time I committed a slight mistake. They began to treat me as if I were an outsider in my own home for twenty years, and disrespected my parents who had worked hard to purchase this house.

Aunt Deborah wasn’t only treating me like I didn’t belong here. She also ordered me to hide my real face. She asked me to put on a black curly wig to hide my natural red hair, and even bought a pair of big black-rimmed glasses for me to cover my sapphire blue eyes.

I always wondered why she had made me do all of these things. Until one day, I heard her talking to Gaston in my old bedroom upstairs.

"What a beautiful young lady Camilla is..." I heard Gaston's compliment directed towards me as I came to a halt in front of their bedroom. Although I was not permitted to come upstairs, I was there in search of the teddy bear that my father had given to me as a present on my fifth birthday. I knew that I had left it in my old bedroom, and I was taken aback when I discovered that they had converted my room into a master's bedroom.

My old room was slightly ajar, and I slowly peeked in, covering my mouth for an instant to muffle the gasp that was threatening to escape. My eyes widened innocently when I saw Aunt Deborah get up from bed, naked.

“Why did you ask her to hide her lovely face?” Gaston added, lighting up a cigarette, and puffed out a smoke out the window. He turned around when he felt Aunt Deborah’s arms wrap around his waist.

“Exactly!” Aunt Deborah exclaimed, pressing her face against Gaston’s hairy chest. “She’s beautiful, and she reminds me of Emilia! Her hair, her eyes, her entire face! I don’t want to see the face of that woman in my house anymore, Gaston!”


Instantaneously, tears began to spring up in my eyes. She had such a strong aversion to my mother that she did not want to see her in me. What was it that my mother did to Aunt Deborah that caused her to have such a strong dislike for her? By the time she wed my father, my mother had already passed away.

As I harshly wiped the tears on my face, I heard her continue, “Lorenzo never loved me. He only married me because of Monique. Until the day he passed away, he only called one name, and that was Emilia!”

“You’re still jealous of Emilia?” Gaston cocked a brow, disgust etched all over his face as he mentioned my mother’s name.

“Of course not…’’ Aunt Deborah’s soft cackle made me want to throw up, especially when she planted a peck on Gaston’s hairy chest. “Another reason why I asked her to cover up like that is because I didn’t want the Lavigne’s only son to see her. My precious Monique is only for him…’’

That was it? How shallow her reason was.

"Dress up! Now!" Suddenly, I was jolted out of my trance by the loud voice of Monique, which reverberated throughout the living room. She started to walk towards Gaston, but not without bumping into my shoulders first. Due to the strong impact, I winced, and my hand flew up to touch the part of my shoulder that was hurting.

And when I looked at Monique, she yelped as she lost her balance. Monique was more skinny than me, but I was taller than her. But because of her high-heeled shoes, we now have the same height.

I made an attempt to catch her before she could actually fall to the ground, but I was unsuccessful. I felt a sudden stinging sensation on my shoulder that I flinched and missed catching her.

“Mommy!” Monique cried, after a loud thud was heard as she fell on the ground. I quickly bent down to help her, but she slapped my hands away.

“What’s happening here?” Aunt Deborah yelled, and I looked up to see her dashing down the stairs, and she was sending me a murderous gaze, already judging that I was the one who did this to her daughter. “What did you do to Monique?”

I shook my head as I quickly rose up, lowering my gaze on the ground. I fixed the glasses I was wearing, and slowly looked up at her. “I didn’t do anything. It was her who…’’

“Mom, she pushed me!” cried Monique, and I snapped my head towards her direction, a look of bewilderment appearing on my face. “Help me, mom…’’

“You know that I didn’t do that…’’ I told Monique with wide eyes, and the next thing I felt was a hard slap across my face. I didn’t realize that Aunt Deborah had already made her way down, and was now standing in front of me. “Auntie…’’

“Deborah!” Gaston shouted, hurrying his way towards us. “It was an accident…’’


But Monique purposely bumped her shoulder at me. “Auntie, it was Monique who…’’

“Shut up! Are you telling me that my daughter is lying? You don’t have the right to hurt my princess, do you understand?” she said, slapping me again, then gripping my hair tightly, which caused me to shut down in silence. “Do you understand me?” she pulled my hair, and I nodded wincing. I almost cried when she released my hair with a push.

“Good! Now, hurry and dress up! Make yourself presentable!” Monique ordered with a roll of eyes as she stood there with her hands on her hips, looking me up and down with disgust. “I know it’s hard for you, though…”

I trudged down the basement and I heard them start talking about the wedding and what the engagement ring would be like.

Now, I’m pretty sure that she just wants a rich husband.

I was searching for something to wear in my small old closet, when I heard a sudden knock on the door. “Come in!” I said without taking away my gaze from my neatly folded old clothes.

“Miss Camilla…’’ Anita called out softly, and I turned around to see her standing in the doorway. “The dinner with the Lavigne family is canceled…’’ she announced, before she turned around, and closed the door behind her.

Chapter 2


I found myself running like crazy, like running for my life. My heart was pumping so faster than usual, and I could feel my skin cold as ice and sweat was trickling down my spine. As soon as I felt my wig moving, I stopped in my tracks to straighten it and take a moment to collect my breath while I looked around. I was still a few feet away from the bus stop.

I was going to be late for school again because Monique made me iron her clothes earlier. Anita said she would carry out the task, but my stepsister insisted that she wanted me, not her, to do it. She even made me clean her dirty shoes. After I had finished everything that she had ordered, I walked back to my room and quickly took a shower. I then hurriedly put on my tank top, denim pants, and a black cardigan to cover the bruises that were on my arms.

Ignoring the bruises on my body, I was undeniably a gorgeous girl. But I didn't really care much about my appearance, which brought me

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