Her Tyrant Prince – A Sheikh Breaks My Heart Read Online Marian Tee

Categories Genre: Alpha Male Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 43115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 216(@200wpm)___ 172(@250wpm)___ 144(@300wpm)

* Previously published as My Controlling Sheikh What if Cinderella’s prince was a tall, dark, and handsome sheikh...and he was anything but charming? I used to be an ordinary small-town eighteen-year-old girl , working countless hours just to make ends meet. I didn't even have time to date , much less a chance to have my first kiss. But then my mother married the king and my life changed forever. Sheikh Khal, the king's heir, now has total control of my life. Everyone thinks he's a dream come true . Gorgeous. Courageous. Kind. With me, however, he's nothing but a domineering jerk. I hated him, and I thought he hated me back…until the sheikh showed me hate was just another form of love. This STANDALONE romance is STEAMY and OVER THE TOP.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************


ONCE UPON A TIME, THERE was an American girl named Ella.

When her fair, kind-hearted but empty-headed mother married the handsome, kind-hearted and equally empty-headed king of a faraway kingdom, she was given no choice but to pack her bags and leave for a desert kingdom in a land far, far away.

The king's older daughter hated Ella on sight.

As for the king's heir Sheikh Khal, he was known to be gallant and courageous. And yet with Ella, he was different. He was aloof, sharp-tongued, and cruel.

Everyone therefore believed the sheikh hated Ella as well.

But everyone was wrong.

So This Is...

“HOW ARE YOU DOING?” Ruth asked as she came to me in a flurry of silk. Her cheeks were flushed with a mixture of joy and intoxication, and though she was in her late thirties, she looked a decade younger in her bridal finery.

Well...everyone thinks we’re in this for the money, but other than that?

I smiled brightly. “Best wedding reception ever, Mom.” I’d never ruin this day for her. After everything she’s gone through just to raise me up alone, she deserved this.

“Oh, Ella.” Ruth threw her arms around me in an exuberant hug. She was a touchy-feely kind of person, someone without any kind of reserve, and I supposed that was the reason my biological father – he did not deserve to be called Dad – who was a hardened criminal, found it so easy to make her fall for him, knock her up, and then steal all her money.

“This day wouldn’t have been perfect if you weren’t happy,” she whispered.

I hugged her more tightly. “I love you, Mom. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy, too.” My mom blew me a kiss and laughed when I made a face in return. That just wasn't my thing, you know?

It was only when the orchestra had begun another song - So This Is Love, the 1948 version - when I noticed the sheikh standing across the ballroom, his tall, broad-shouldered build cutting a strikingly imposing figure in his white military uniform.

He looked so much like what everyone's idea was a Prince Charming would be that he had all the girls swooning or drooling at the sight of him. Heck, he had my own chest pounding, and I didn't even like him.

The ballad continued to play.


Between us, couples danced in and out of our view, the ladies in their finest gowns and with jewelry sparkling from their ears and around their throats. A-list actresses, beauty queens, and supermodels, pampered princesses and elegant heiresses...these women were frequently described as having the loveliest faces in the entire world.

So why then...

Why did I feel like the sheikh only had eyes for me?

It was crazy to think so, and I felt ashamed and horribly self-absorbed for even considering it.

The sheikh hated me.

He had made it obvious when he and his bitchy half-sister didn’t speak a word to me when we first met, and not once did he glance my way when we walked down the aisle, the sheikh as the king's best man and me as Ruth's maid of honor.

My fingers had trembled the entire time they were curled around his arm, and my stupid heart kept skipping a beat every time I felt his muscles contract reflexively under my touch.

A movement distracted me from my memories - a woman coming on walking up to the sheikh, and I hated the way my heart squeezed painfully as I watched him bend his dark head to whatever she had to say.

I forced myself to look away, furious and frustrated with how strange I was reacting to a man who hated me.

Stop thinking about him, Ella.

He was nothing special. Nothing. The only difference between us was that his throne was made of gold while mine was located in the washroom. But other than that? Nothing. Special. We were both human beings, and if he gave me hell, I’d give him hell, too.

So just stop giving a damn about him.

Got it, Ella?

I took a deep breath. Made myself look up. And felt my supposedly smarter heart lose whatever rational ground it had gained the moment I saw the sheikh heading my way. It went back to being stupid in an instant. Thud! Thud! Thud! If this went on, my heart would end up hammering its way out of my chest, and an ominous sense of premonition seized me at that moment.

Something bad was about to happen.

Really bad.

Picking up my skirts, I rose quickly from my seat and hastened towards the closest pair of doors. It was a struggle not to trip over the length and weight of my gown, but I managed somehow. What was really killing me right now were my shoes, and I cursed the royal family's official couturier for forcing me into six-inch heels.

Appearing taller was supposed to make me more royal in the official wedding photos, but yeah, that was nothing but a load of crap, and the damn man probably knew it, too. It wasn't my fault the whole damn royal family were as tall as trees, and worst of all, even Ruth stood five-foot-ten in her bare feet.