“Ally O’Connor spotted exiting club with a new man.”
“Sydney socialite and millionaire rumoured to be on party binge.”
“Sydney’s party princess high at exclusive event.”
“Ally O’Connor is a whore and here’s why…”
Allison O’Connor continued to swipe at the countless online articles about herself on her iPhone. Report after report. Lie after lie. Her reputation—all but in tatters or none at all. It had reached the point of suffocation. She hated it. Pictures and videos of her all over the internet. Some parents would be disappointed, embarrassed really. But for Ally, her parents encouraged her promiscuous façade. It was all for the family business. O’Connor Investments. The moment she took her first breaths, her life had already been chosen. She was an O’Connor. An heiress from conception and a socialite the moment she had turned sixteen. All the things she had been entitled to her father had once said.
But Ally didn’t want any of it. She didn’t want the inheritance or the social title. Her brother had grown up just the same. However, Liam managed to sneak away; he had taken up a deal with their father. And that was the first thing you were taught as a child: An O’Connor never backs out of a deal. Unfortunately for Ally, her father had refused every freedom proposition she had thrown his way. It seemed her party lifestyle was too much of an asset. Truth be told, she was a whore. Of course, minus the sex. Her father and the company had abused her image to benefit rewards: investment opportunities.
“You’re frowning,” Clara Lawrence, her soon-to-be-sister-in-law, stated.
Ally tucked her phone into her clutch and smiled. “Oh, you know, Dustin messaged me.” Dustin Fletcher was Australia’s latest hot actor. Home and Away’s latest eye candy. Sure, she had thought he was an absolute god in the looks department, but personality wise, the guy couldn’t hold a conversation with a brick wall. However, Dustin seemed so average and forgettable the moment Ally had locked eyes with one of the rehearsal dinner guests. His light blue eyes captured her attention. Held it tightly under his questioning gaze. Remarkable, that was the impression he had left. Absolutely remarkable.
“You’re a liar. I know that’s just for the magazines. You can’t stand Dustin, Ally.”
“I can’t get anything past you.”
Clara shook her head. “Nope. You seriously need to stand up to your father.”
“I’ve tired.” She sighed. “But he isn’t having any of it. My obscene public image is worth more than my brother’s investment know-how. There’s no escape. I’m stuck being O’Connor Investments’ public slut.”
“Stop that!” Clara scolded as she brushed her curly brunette hair over her shoulder. “You’re far from that. Last time I checked you’re a…”
Ally groaned. “A virgin, Clara?”
She nodded.
“Which just makes the whole persona a total lie. And what’s worse is that none of the men I’ve been rumoured to have had anything sexual with has even touched me. So, it makes being a whore even more fitting. I’m a pretend whore.”
Clara turned around and smiled at her fiancé. But Ally saw right past it. It wasn’t quite complete. Not as loving as it should be. Her brother’s fiancée was also a pretender. For selfish reasons, Ally had hopes that Clara would marry Liam—she’d never had a sister before. But ever since Clara had tried on wedding dresses, Ally knew she had loved someone else. She had overheard Stevie and Clara talking about someone named Noel.
“Dessert’s being served,” Liam said.
“Okay. We’re going to talk about this in detail, Ally. We’re going to make a plan,” Clara promised.
Ally gave a shrug. “Sure, sure. Let’s get me some alcohol and cake, shall we?”
“Alcohol?” Liam raised his brow. For the past year, she’d refused alcohol and there had been a reason. She’d been telling her family it was to detox, but that was also a lie. It was a better reason than the truth. There was no point in worrying them; her feelings came second to the concerns of the family company.
“Detox is over. Plus we’re celebrating! So lead the way,” Ally urged as she tried to push the guilt that had recoiled to settle back into the pit of her stomach.
I’m a liar and a pretender.
Frankly, there’s a special place in hell for someone like me.
COMING SOON.
JANUARY, 2016.
Read other books by Len Webster
What You Left Behind took me a long time to write. It took almost a year and half, maybe closer to the two year mark. Instead of writing it,