You Distract Me - S01 E09

Story 5 months ago

You Distract Me - S01 E09

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 9

Olivia's POV

Three Months Later

I was exhausted.

And it wasn't from the moving, as much it was tiring. It was from my annoying mother.

Who knew that even after her husband had been imprisoned for fraud, most of her money being ripped away from her, and the mansion no longer under our name, she would still be a nagging mother.

At times I even forgot she was my mother, but instead my instructor.

Three months ago, she would simply scold me for the way I carried myself or presented myself.

Now—thankfully a highschool graduate—I was her full time student. Constantly giving me lessons on the proper etiquette of a woman.

I just recently turned eighteen, and the woman already had me wearing stilettos and pencil skirts.

I stared up at the ceiling of my room, the bed beneath me seductively calling me to slumber. And it was only two in the afternoon.

A whole morning of shopping for the right makeup and right clothes was the cause of my exhaustion. As if I cared about any of those things.

All I cared about was this bed and its softness. But as soon as I began to drift off, the wicked witch of the west—whom I loved unconditionally—called.

"Liv! Come here please."

I sighed in frustration as I debated on locking my door or not.

Not.

"She'd probably break it down, idiot," I told myself as I pushed off the bed, and heard the most frightening sound come from somewhere on my body.

I looked down at the white pencil skirt I'd worn and saw a piece of thread sticking out from its seams.

Oh crap. I'd ripped the damn thing.

Two months, two freaking months was all it had taken for puberty to complete its work by making me full in the hips, and giving my ass a special pumping. And let's not leave out the fact that most of my bras barely cover anything.

Standing up from my bed, I slipped out of the skirt and folded it nicely before placing it in a laundry basket. I did the same to my cashmere sweater, before walking into my walk-in closet to pick out a purple summer dress.

My dark hair was still pinned up in a neat chignon. But I didn't dare undo it.

Rule number twenty eight; never let your hair free, unless it is to do so for style and fashion.

"Olivia!" my mother warned.

"I'm coming, mother?" I voiced loudly, but gently. Another rule.

Walking out of my room, I headed for the kitchen, passing through the fancy hallway.

As much as most of my family's money was taken away, my mother refused to lower her standards. So we'd moved into a very extravagant and modern apartment.

I'd warned my mother that it wasn't such a good idea, but she'd said it would be best if I left our finances to her while she told me what to do.

"I have something for you," my mother said excitedly, immediately she saw me enter the luxurious kitchen.

She handed me an envelope before she continued to type away on her laptop.

"What is it?" I said, eyeing the pretty envelope. Only to look at the back of it to see the Vogue logo.