The Girl with the Scars

Prologue

Another bad day. Another day of nothing but the voice. Strangers walking past each other blindly. Why can't people see?

If this is what life is, I don't want it. I don't want the voice telling me that I'm not good enough, that no one will love me. That's what my parents did. They didn't, and still don't, love me. They handle me like a possession, waiting for the time to use me as a pawn in their business game.

They own Bly Industries. They have many businesses. A law firm, and investment centre, a gym and a restaurant chain, a publishing company, a news station. They have so many businesses that I can't remember all of them. Talk about fingers in too many pies.

I've always loved the idea of having something that I've earned. Not just given to me. Everything in my life has been too easy.

I know what people think. You're upset that everything is easy? I wish I had your life. Don't be ungrateful.

But no one understands that, although I had everything I wanted in terms of materialistic things, I never was my own person. I'm still not my own person. I've never been loved. I've never been allowed to do what I want.

I had to be properly educated, only the best schools, only the best marks. If I wasn't getting 80% up, they got me tutors. Again, only the best. My father chose all my subjects for me, accounting, higher-grade mathematics, business, history. And made me take biology and physics as extra subjects that were taught to me at home by even more tutors.

The only subject I loved and didn't need a tutor for was English. I wish I could have done drama in school. But no. Father wants me to be like him and Mother. Business people. Empire builders.

He wants to marry me off to Bartee's son, Logan. Bartee is the owner of Michaelson Incorporated, our biggest rival. They want to merge our companies to become Bly-Michaelson Industries, with my parents holding 60% of shares.

To make it worse, the only good thing I've heard about Logan is that he is the model successor to his father's company. Actually... that's all I know about him.

And my parents Félix and Adrianne Bly, want me to marry a complete stranger that is everything that I am not – the perfect businessperson and perfect offspring.

It's hard to think that I don't have a choice in the matter. I can't say no. I can't be a disappointment.

I sigh as I lay my head on my expensive duck down pillow after a shower and drying my hair. I'll have to straighten it tomorrow. Mother doesn't like my naturally curly red hair. It's not the colour that bothers her, because hers is the same colour, it is the fact that mine is curly. Mother always says that it is too wild and unruly to be pretty.

I don't want to marry a stranger. I don't want to be a pawn in Father and Mother's game. But I don't have a choice. I want them to love me. I want them to want me. And if this is the only way I can get their acceptance, then I will do it.

I just want to be loved. I want to be wanted. I don't want to be a disappointment anymore. I want to be the perfect daughter and the perfect businessperson. I just don't think that I can make anyone love me. I couldn't even get my own parents – who are supposed to have an innate love for me – to love me and accept me.

You are useless. The voice whispers into my inner ear as I fall asleep.

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A/N: I just want to say welcome to The Girl with the Scars. Thank you so much for having a read, I really appreciate it.

I hope you continue to read, I'd honestly love that!

If you liked what you've read so far, could you leave a vote and a comment? Also greatly appreciated.

Thank you all the way from South Africa.

Lots of love.
Bianca Marxer