My Mate Dress Me As A Donkey To Please His Lover

I'm Hannah Caldwell, and my world shattered the night my so-called mate, Derek Sullivan, sided with his childhood sweetheart, Brittany Kane, over a stupid dress clash.

Right there, in front of everyone, he had his goons strip me down to my underwear.

He shoved a contract in my face, demanding I sign a promise never to use anything Brittany did. Eyes-vicious, mocking-raked over my bare skin.

Humiliation burned so fierce it nearly choked me.

Clutching myself, I scribbled my name, my eyes blazing as I glared at Derek.

"Can I put my clothes on now?" I spat.

Derek blew out a lazy smoke ring, his gaze dripping with cruel amusement. "Sure. But it'll cost you."

He nodded to his bodyguard, who tossed me a donkey costume. "You wanna steal Brittany's spotlight? Here's your shot."

"Wear it, and we'll call it even."

A spotlight hit me, blinding, suffocating, pinning me to a pillar of shame. I lost count of how many times Derek's pulled this crap for Brittany.

When Brittany flunked her college entrance exam, Derek swapped my scores with hers, leaving me stuck with a high school diploma.

When Brittany shoplifted expensive jewelry and got caught, Derek threw me in jail to take the fall

When she plagiarized my papers, he paid off the press to paint me as the thief.

Now, just because Brittany cried all night over a matching dress, Derek had me stripped in front of his rich, spoiled friends, letting them leer at me like wolves circling prey.

"What's wrong? Not game?" Derek stubbed out his cigarette, his cold stare making my heart stutter. "Then don't wear anything at all."

The room erupted in laughter.

"Derek, your pet's got some fight today!" one of his buddies jeered.

"Ten grand says she's barking like a donkey in under a minute!" another bet.

"Let's help her out!" a third chimed in.

Before I could react, Derek's pack of wolves forced the donky costume onto me, pinning me to the floor, their vile taunts flying. I tried to fight, but Derek's icy voice cut through: "Don't forget our deal."

My face went pale. I froze. When my mom, Eleanor Caldwell, brought me into Derek's father Charles Sullivan's pack, Derek forced me to sign a twisted pact: obey him, or he'd use "homewrecker" gossip to destroy my mom, who was already battling crippling depression and suicidal thoughts. I couldn't risk him pushing her over the edge. So I signed, becoming the pack's infamous "lapdog." Whatever Derek demanded, I gave.

I don't even know how I got back to the Sullivan pack's villa, stumbling in that heavy, humiliating costume, my body bruised, tears and blood streaking my face, strangers' cold stares cutting into me.

My heart felt like it was suffocating, but the thought of Mom at home, arranging flowers, waiting for me with that hopeful smile, lit a spark in my dull eyes.

I changed, forced a smile, and stepped into the yard-when a deafening crash stopped me cold. A