Page 1 of Bullied Pregnant Mate

Chapter 1 - Gina

I swallowed nervously. I don't even know why I decided to come to the funeral. I knew exactly how everything would go. Eddy would look perfect in her casket, and everyone would be crying even though she was a cranky old bitch that didn't care about anyone but herself. How she lived as long as she had, I will never know.

Being her great-granddaughter and the only living relative, everything fell to me. I could have thrown it aside and washed my hands of the entire situation, but it would have only blown up in my face. The pack would have been furious and likely treated me worse than they already did.

I took in the full parking lot and the cascade of people heading inside. All were wearing black, and they were wiping their eyes. Some I knew were genuine, and others I wasn't so sure. Some I knew were only forcing them because of Eddie's power. She had been the oldest member of the pack, and whether you liked her or not, she got respect.

I squared my shoulders and headed inside. I was trying to walk confidently, but I hated heels, and my feet hurt even after wearing them for only twenty minutes from the drive over. I hated the black dress I had on, feeling sweat rolling down my back. And my hair—god, I hated having my hair down.

As I opened the door, I could already feel eyes on me. The church was filled, all eyes turned to me, and the whispers began.

"Late to her own family's funeral, how fitting."

"And look at her outfit? Does she have no dignity? She's too big to wear a dress like that."

"And she's walking like a newborn calf."

I took a slow breath, wishing I was sitting at home in my sweatpants, watching a murder show instead of being here. I'd be anywhere but here.

I forced a smile because I always told myself it was better to just push through it rather than fight back. I'd tried fighting back for years, and it got me nowhere. If I at least acted like it didn't bother me, I felt I’d won a little.

"Afternoon," I said, nodding at a few as I walked further into the church. I could see the eye rolls as people turned away, returning to whatever conversation they had had before I walked in.

I adjusted my purse on my shoulder and headed further toward the altar where I knew Eddy would be. I turned the corner and took the large space in.

The church had a large glass dome that sparkled color all around the room. There were rows of benches for sitting where a few people were already seated. Eddy's casket, which was a mahogany brown, sat open at the other end. I straightened my shoulders and headed down the aisle. I could hear people whispering, and I tried to ignore it.

"Pity that Eddy had her as a great-granddaughter."

"What a shame to have such a fragile, lone wolf to be the sole heir to the family's money and name."

I could hear a little laughter and shook my head, stopping in front of the casket. Eddy, who was a hundred and two, lay peacefully in her bed. Her white hair was perfectly done, per the request in her will. The will, Jesus, the goddamn will.

She wanted a large funeral where the entire pack was invited. She wanted lilies and no carnations. She wanted to wear her favorite dress, her bedazzled navy blue dress, with her pearlearrings and necklace. You're not supposed to bury someone in jewelry, but she wanted it. She demanded it. The will had detailed information, from her outfit to the music she wanted playing.

Finger sandwiches and fancy wine were to be served—not the cheap stuff because she wasn't cheap; she had the money. She wanted an extra two hours for people to view her, and then the casket was to be closed.

I rolled my eyes because even in death, she was still a bitch. Even in death, she had to have all the control.

I remembered going to her house the last time I saw her. It was her birthday, only two months ago. She looked worn down, but she still spoke with an iron tongue.

"Sit up," she'd snapped at me, her eyes narrowing on me with rage. "I didn't invite you to my house to look like a homeless brat. You were raised with class."

I had fixed my posture, wondering why the hell I even went. I hadn't wanted to, but you couldn't refuse Eddy. And if I was being honest, I needed the company. While Eddy was a bitch, I knew her worth, and if I was to live through all this pain, there was something I was going to get in the end.

Maybe it made me shallow, but if you spent almost all of your life being looked down on, you would look for something that felt like salvation, and I had.

Eddy shook her head at me. "I can't believe you're the last person in my bloodline. A waste."

I scowled, always keeping my voice to myself, but it struck a nerve. I tightened my hand on the fork. "Doesn't that prove I'm strong, Eddy?"

Her eyes snapped back at me, and she laughed a cold, brittle laugh. Her eyes held no love, no remorse, or kindness as she spoke. "No, it just proves no one has crossed your pathway, but they will, and when they do, you're done for."

I wanted to yell at her that I held my own. While everyone else was dropping like flies, I stood strong.

Sometimes, I was shocked at how I was the last one standing when everyone around me constantly was telling me I was going to die because I was a waste of space and couldn't protect myself.

Eddy had two children who had gotten married and had children. My relatives died from various things. My father had died from a heart attack at a young age, which is why I started watching what I ate. My mother died when I was twenty from heartache. But if I was being honest, I think it was all the alcohol she drank in secret.

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