Wicked Devil: An Enemies to Lovers, High School Bully Romance (Devils of Sun Valley High Book 1) Read online

  Wicked Devil

  Devils of Sun Valley High

  Daniela Romero

  Contents

  Before you Begin…

  Allie

  Allie

  Roman

  Allie

  Allie

  Allie

  Roman

  Allie

  Allie

  Roman

  Allie

  Roman

  Allie

  Roman

  Allie

  Roman

  Allie

  Allie

  Allie

  Roman

  Allie

  Roman

  Allie

  Roman

  Allie

  Allie

  Allie

  Allie

  Roman

  Allie

  Roman

  Allie

  Roman

  Allie

  Allie

  Roman

  Allie

  Roman

  Allie

  Roman

  Allie

  Four months later

  What to Read Next

  Wicked Devil Playlist

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Wicked Devil

  Devils of Sun Valley High: One

  Copyright © 2020, Daniela Romero

  www.daniela-romero.com

  All Rights Reserved, including the rights to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the author.

  This book is a work of fiction; all characters, names, places, incidents, and events are the product of the authors imagination and either fictitious or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Cover Design: Coffee and Characters

  Formatting: Coffee and Characters

  Editors: Cynthia Moyer, Lisa Wilson, Amy Hatler

  For the survivors

  Before you Begin…

  Wicked Devil is recommended for mature readers 17+

  THIS IS YOUR TRIGGER WARNING. If you are easily triggered, Wicked Devil may not be for you. If you would still like to enjoy this book and perhaps gloss over the sensitive scenes, please skim/skip Chapter 25 and Chapter 35

  About the Book

  Roman Valdez is the Devil.

  He sneers at me.

  He hates me.

  He wants to hurt me.

  Let him try.

  He thinks he’s untouchable. The self-appointed Devil of Sun Valley High.

  But I’ve already lost everything and everyone I care about.

  It’s me he should be afraid of. Not the other way around.

  Because I have nothing left to lose, and he can’t break what’s already broken.

  At least, that’s what I thought.

  But when the Devil begins picking up the pieces, I realize while he might not break me. He can absolutely shatter me, heart and soul.

  And I just might let him.

  Allie

  “Alejandra, you’re going to be late for school.” Janessa calls out using my full name. I sigh and choose to ignore her. She won’t think anything of it. She’s done her job and informed me of the time, as I’m sure my father instructed her to do. My father. Thinking of Gerald Ulrich as anything aside from an absolute and total stranger just feels … weird.

  I worry my bottom lip and stare at my reflection in the floor-length mirror, bracing myself for what will be my first day at a new school, in a new town, with a new family. Because clearly, my life wasn’t hard enough.

  Tears prick my eyes but I blink hard to clear them. Come on, Allie. Hold it together. I refuse to allow myself to cry. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not again.

  If I do, I’m not sure I’ll ever stop.

  Sucking in a shuddering breath, I take in my appearance. I look okay, I guess. Except the girl staring back at me is nothing like the Alejandra Ramirez I’ve been the past seventeen years. She looks preppier. Richer. Honestly, the girl staring back at me looks like a stuck-up bitch.

  I look nothing like me. I’m wearing a pair of white skinny jeans that are all but painted onto my body and a soft pink floral top. It has sheer flowing sleeves and exposes a thin strip of my tanned midriff. It’s beyond feminine. If my best friend Julio could see me now, he’d probably keel over laughing. This is not my look.

  Not that anyone here cares.

  Back home, I would have gone to school in ripped jeans, a vintage band tee with an oversized hoodie, and a pair of black K-Swiss sneakers. White if I felt like being fancy that day. It would have been okay to toss my hair into a messy bun and wear my gold hoop earrings with winged eyeliner and little else as far as makeup was concerned. Hell, most days I didn’t bother with even the eyeliner. I’d always been a bit of a tomboy. I was still a tomboy.

  Though looking at me now, you’d never know it.

  But last week when I met my bio-dad, he took one look at me in his polished gray suit and disgust quickly curled his upper lip. Being a tomboy was unacceptable. I needed to look the part, as Janessa—his personal assistant—had reminded me on, so far, three separate occasions in the same number of days. I am Gerald Ulrich’s daughter, not some chola from the wrong side of town. Gerald is a prominent member of his community. Gerald is a businessman. Gerald has a flashy car and money and probably only carries black credit cards in his wallet.

  His daughter needs to hold herself to certain standards.

  Bring on the eye roll and insert an insane amount of sarcasm here.

  Until a week ago, I’d been his estranged and forgotten daughter.

  Not anymore.

  Not since my mom died.

  I rub at the ache in my chest. Why did you hide all of this from me, Mom? There had to be a reason.

  You’d think given everything I’d been through, the guy would cut me some slack. He’d … I don’t know, try and get to know me.

  I huff out a breath and try to squelch the flicker of hurt inside my chest. Mom can’t answer my questions. She's dead and I'm here.

  Emotion clogs my throat.

  Dammit. I refuse to let grief wash over me again. I shouldn’t care if I'm not good enough for the guy. I'm here. That means something, right? I mean, he technically fought to get me here.

  He could have left me back in Richland. I could have spent the remainder of my senior year as a foster kid. Though, if I'm being entirely honest with myself, I’m not sure I wouldn’t have preferred that. At least then I’d be in my hometown. I’d have Julio and Gabe and Felix—my friends—people who actually care about me.

  But minors don’t get a say in these kinds of things.

  If Mom were here, she’d tell me to be strong. To be brave. She should be here. But she isn’t, so I need to be brave on my own.

  Alrighty then. I can do that.

  There's no other alternative.

  Janessa had provided my first-day-of-school outfit, along with the rest of my new wardrobe, since mine had been destroyed in the fire. Technically, it isn’t really the first day of school. I transferred to Sun Valley High near the end of the first trimester, but it would be my first day at this particular school.

  Yay.

  I hate the outfit. The wardrobe. The makeup and perfumes. But when I hinted that it isn’t really my style, she’d scowled as if I’d offended her and then proceeded to remind me that I need to let go of my past.

  She h
adn't meant to hurt me with her words. At least, I don’t think she did. Janessa doesn't strike me as a cruel person. But she thinks my life before the here and now is beneath me. Beneath the Ulrich name. And she's only my bio-dad’s assistant.

  After she told me how lucky I am to be reunited with my father, I decided it was easier to just go along and not rock the boat. It's my senior year. I’ll be eighteen soon and after graduation, I can go back to my old life. I can leave this house. This town. These people.

  Then I will grieve.

  I leave my long, dark brown hair down, using the flat iron Janessa gave me to straighten it into sleek, glossy strands before applying a hint of makeup.

  I need to make a great first impression.

  A touch of concealer to hide the bags under my eyes from lack of sleep. A little blush and bronzer to mask my paleness. A touch of mascara and clear lip gloss to make me look a little more alive. Janessa would approve.

  It isn’t me, and while I hate that, I also know I don’t really want to be me right now. I don’t want to be the girl who lost her mom. The girl whose boyfriend dumped her the same night. Or the girl who lost her one female friend to that same boyfriend. The jerk had cheated on me. With her. And now, I get to start at a new school and live with a parent I barely know. The cherry on top of the sundae that is my life.

  My shoulders slump. I grab my new, pale pink backpack—so not my color—and slide my feet into a pair of Chloe Lauren sneakers. They cost nearly five hundred dollars.

  How ridiculous is that? Who spends five hundred dollars on shoes? That’s like, rent. Well, maybe not. But it’s enough to cover a utility bill and then some.

  A sigh escapes me. I know I should be grateful. They’re nice. But all the money and high-end stuff makes me a little uncomfortable. I didn’t have stuff like this growing up. Mom was a single mom. She worked two jobs to make ends meet and I bought most of my stuff at Ross or Target. You should have seen the look on Janessa’s face when I suggested shopping there to replace my things.

  I head out of my room, jogging down the stairs and into the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee. Janessa stands by the marble island, a wide smile on her face and no Gerald in sight. She hands me a travel mug. “Here, darling. I made your coffee. We need to get going so you’re not late for your first day.”

  I nod and follow her, quickly scanning the room as I take a sip of the sickly sweet coffee. Yuck. I drink my coffee black, not with whatever flavored concoction she’s added to the mug. I’m tempted to pour it out and grab a fresh cup. But I don’t. That would be rude.

  Janessa sees my wandering gaze and answers my unspoken question. “Your father is at the office already. His schedule is pretty full and your arrival wasn’t”—she pauses—“planned.”

  I press my lips into a thin line. No, it certainly wasn’t. I bet he loved getting that particular phone call from social services. I’d stayed with Julio’s parents the first week after Mom died while they confirmed my paternity. Dear old Dad had to be sure. I had hoped to stay with my best friend through my senior year; Julio’s parents had been on board with the idea. But as soon as the test came back confirming Gerald Ulrich is my father, that option was thrown out the window.

  He wanted me. So, there's that, I remind myself. I am wanted. Though, he’d yet to act like it.

  Outside, I climb into Janessa’s white Porsche Taycan 4S. It sits ridiculously low to the ground and costs more than my old house did. I googled it. The cost of her car. I don’t know how much Gerald pays her to be his personal assistant but it must be a lot if she can afford this. I wouldn’t be surprised if she's more than his assistant, though, based on the few times I’ve seen them together. Office romance is more like it. What a cliché.

  He's fifty-two and she's barely graduated college. Easily young enough to be my big sister. But who am I to judge?

  Up until a week ago, I didn’t even know I had a dad. I mean, obviously I knew someone contributed to me being born and all that, but I didn’t know he was out there. That he knew about me. I kinda assumed he was dead if I’m being honest with myself. And I’d been okay with that.

  Mom never talked about him and I wasn’t one of those kids who felt like I was missing a piece of myself without a dad. She’d always been enough.

  Tears sting the backs of my eyes and I push my old memories away.

  It takes twenty minutes to get to Sun Valley High. Janessa rambles on about nonsense and I tune her out for most of the drive. Pulling into the school parking lot, her Porsche sticks out like a sore thumb and all eyes turn toward us as she parks. I swallow hard and rush to unbuckle. She puts the car in park as though she plans to come in with me. “I’ll be fine,” I assure her. “I’m a big girl.” I grab my bag, purposefully leaving behind the coffee, and rush to open the door.

  “But it’s your first day. I can walk you in. I’m sure there’s paperwork and—"

  “It’s okay. I got it.” I don’t miss the gazes of the students passing by. Some are curious but most look annoyed. I don’t want that annoyance to morph into disdain. And I don’t want to get labeled as a snob.

  I’d had to beg Gerald to let me attend Sun Valley High. He wanted me to go to Suncrest Academy. The top private school in the area and the third most prestigious high school in the country. He didn’t like the idea of me attending a public school with the riffraff of town. His words, not mine. But ever since winning that one, I hadn’t fought him on anything else. Not the clothes. Not the living arrangements. Not the rules—only because I know a losing battle when I see one—but he’d conceded and given me this, and Janessa is about to ruin it.

  “Are you sure? Your father wouldn’t be happy if— “

  “I’m good. Promise.” I slam the door behind me, not giving her the chance to comment further, and rush across the parking lot to the school’s front entrance. A large red devil mascot stares down at me.

  Welcome to Sun Valley High, home of the Red Devils.

  I pass through the open doors, a sense of foreboding washing over me, but I quash it.

  I will be okay.

  Mom was strong. I can be strong, too.

  I just have to take things one day at a time.

  Allie

  The school was informed of my arrival late last week, so they had everything ready for me. I got my schedule from the school counselor—Mr. Kemp—along with a few forms he said I’d need to take home and bring back with Gerald’s signature. I got my locker assignment and combination, though if Sun Valley High is anything like my old school, it would sit empty most of the year. I’ll lug my books in my backpack between classes rather than dropping them off in my locker to save on time.

  Since Sun Valley High is on a trimester system, I only have four classes. English, Calculus, Spanish 4, and Welding. Calculus will kick my butt. Math was never my strong suit. But the rest should be easy enough to get caught up on.

  “Your, umm, Janessa informed me of your … situation,” Mr. Kemp says, a sympathetic frown tugging at his features. “If you need to talk to anyone, my office door is always open.”

  Always the diligent assistant. Janessa has taken care of everything, including airing my business. Wonderful.

  “Thanks.” I nod, not that I have any plans of taking him up on the offer. But Mr. Kemp seems nice enough. He’s younger than most of the faculty I’ve seen so far. Late twenties, maybe early thirties. He has reddish brown hair and dark blue eyes. He’s attractive enough and carries an easy smile. He seems to be one of the cool staff members, judging by the number of students shouting out hellos when they walk past his office door. A lot of “Yo, Mr. K.” But I don’t need a shoulder to cry on and I prefer not to build relationships with guidance counselors. They have the tendency to make things weird. I learned that my freshman year and I don’t plan on having a repeat incident.

  Besides, he’s a stranger. I haven’t bothered to confide in my new dad. Why on earth would I confide in him?

  The warning bell rings signaling that first
period is about to start. I stand up to leave, tucking my schedule into the front pocket of my pants. Before I can make it out of his office, a boy saunters in with a swagger and, what I’m sure, is his perpetual smirk. He tilts his head toward Mr. Kemp in greeting before plopping down in the chair I just vacated, not bothering to spare me a glance.

  Rude. But, whatever. I’m the new girl. If Sun Valley High is anything like virtually every other high school in America, the students here won’t be welcoming. But all of that is a-okay. I don’t need to make friends here. I have Julio, Gabe, and Felix to get back to. I don’t plan on sticking around long once I graduate.

  “Mr. Valdez. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Mr. Kemp says with a stern tone, but I don’t miss the slight curve to his mouth. I know right away that this guy, Valdez, is one of those kids who spends a lot of time in the office. There’s an air of smug hostility about him, but Mr. Kemp doesn’t seem bothered by it. He seems … amused.

  When the boy finally looks my way, he gives me a slow once-over before his upper lip curls in disgust. He mutters, “Chiflada,” under his breath with a roll of his pretty brown eyes.

  “Hey!” I snap. He doesn’t know me and I don’t care how cute he is, I am not a spoiled brat.