Embrasse-Moi ("Kiss me") | Levi Ackerman

I - Prologue

Content Warning:

This story contains graphic depictions of abuse, alcoholism, drug usage(minor), sexual acts, sex, and neglect.

Read at your own discretion. If this story is not for you/you aren't in the right head space for this story, thank you you for coming this far! Make sure to keep caring for your well-being.

If you choose to continue, enjoy the story. This story won't be using over descriptions for "Y/N". I'm trying my best to make it as POC-Friendly as possible. Enjoy the story!

◁ ❇︎❀⭐︎☆⭐︎❀❇︎ ▷

Being a CEO's daughter in an industry all about nepotism isn't the best. Every week you're wondering if this will be the week that you'll be married off to an asshole with a unique drive for work, sex and food. Of course you'll have to provide the sex and food because some men despise the idea of even touching a stove top. "Leave it to the wife!", Dad jokes every time a male visitor comes around and gives him a slight chance to be the misogynistic, sexist man he is.

Mom's been teaching me from young that I should always bow my head to my superior, to my husband. I should serve him and... not blah blah blah. I believed her at first wholeheartedly. She was my only source of information on this topic at 13. And although harsh, she sat me down and we read old books on the topic too. She said I should be the perfect woman for the man my father chooses. The company will ride on how good of a wife I am. At first I didn't get it, but at the age of 24 with a degree in bio-medical science and the common knowledge I've obtained along the years, It means that the man that dad chooses for me will hold a very big role to the future of the company and if I can't satisfy him then that man will stop doing business with my father. Basically I'm his business product and I need to be trained to satisfy whoever my dad makes business with. It's like a classy form of prostitution.

I wanted to get out though. I don't want to stay around and wait for that man to come and strip me of my freedom. I want to marry for love. Not business. That's why I'm leaving. I've been accepted to a medical school in France. Although San Francisco is nice, and I'll forever miss my time in Stanford University, I need to get away. I need to find my own life path instead of waiting around for an event that would grief me for the rest of my life.

My flight is next week. I haven't told a soul. None of my friends, none of my family, no one. Everyone I know is connected to my Dad. If he found out he'd find someone willing to marry me by tomorrow and officially marry me off by Friday evening. Today is Wednesday.

Ever since I've been eighteen, men were flocking their way to me. It was just as weird as it sounds. It was like I was prey being hunted by vicious predators. And then as soon as these men got close enough to having a private conversation with me, my dad would suddenly get this sense of protectiveness over me. He'd interrupt the conversation then, he'd reject their marriage proposal himself. It was nice at first but later I realised why. He doesn't want me to know what kind of person I'd marry. If I didn't like them and protested, maybe other men wouldn't want to marry me because of my attitude. To him, it was better that I knew nothing at all. But these rejections gave me time to complete my education.

The problem with this though, is that the men he would bring became worse and worse. As soon as I started growing older, the men my dad brought started to get drastically older. The last man he tried to set me up with was 50 years old. It seems no man of my age would stand for being forced into a marriage. I've even been criticised about it by my so-called friends. They believe that I am weak and helpless.

I'm tired of being pushed around.

As I pack my two suitcases with my most valuable possessions to me, I look around. I'm looking for gold to sell when I get there in Paris. I have ten thousand dollars to my name after travel expenses. I've found a place and I've already wired the deposit. I've went to Paris many times during High-school. My friends took me to parties almost every weekend.

We went to a Swiss Boarding school. My memories from that school are amazing. I miss it everyday. I made many friends but lost contact after graduation. He forbid me from using any social media because we were "high class" and regular people can't have insight on our lives. We're not famous rich. We're undercover-nepotism-business rich. I obliged too. Only because if I didn't, I wouldn't be provided with food for a few days. That was their form of punishment.

My days at 'Institut le Pivoine des Arts et Science' were the best because of this. I wouldn't miss a meal. I would always have my bed to sleep on. And although everyone was scary rich, I still found my cliche.

Me and Jean, my best friend were never separated. We both knew what it was like to be in love with Ackermans.

Once I land, I'll be trying to find my friends again. My real ones. It'll be hard but it will be worth it see them again.