"Tell the truth, Helena."
For a second, Vivienne wavered. The compulsion to answer him, to drop the mask and reveal the woman beneath, was terrifyingly strong. He was looking at her not as a conquest, but as a mystery he intended to solve.
But the ga was too fun. The deception was too sweet. And the truth... the truth would end it all too soon.
She let a slow, wicked smile curve her lips, pushing the vulnerability down and pulling the mask back up.
"The truth?" She laughed, a fragile, brittle sound. "You’re suspicious of , aren’t you? You’re wondering why I’m here."
She stepped back, her hand slipping from his grasp.
"You’re right to be suspicious. It doesn’t make sense, does it? Why the loyal assistant, the cousin, the aunt to that spoiled brat... is standing here in your arms, cursing the very hand that feeds her?"
She looked him deep in the eyes. Her lower lip trembled... a masterpiece of manufactured sorrow. Moisture gathered in the corners of her eyes, shimring like diamonds, threatening to fall at any mont.
Then, with a dramatic, shuddering breath, she turned away, walking to the edge of the terrace to stare out at the city roads below.
Alex was left staring at her back, blinking in genuine disbelief.
’Holy shit,’ he thought. ’She’s actually crying on command.’
If he hadn’t known the truth beforehand, he would have believed every lie. He would have been entrapped instantly, ready to tear the world apart just to fix that manufactured pain.
She is terrifying, Alex realized, a cold amusent settling in his chest. She believes her own lie so completely that it’s becoming reality.
"You know..." Her voice floated back to him, soft and laced with nostalgia. "Vivienne and I... despite being cousins, we were best friends once. I admired her."
She gripped the railing, her knuckles turning white.
"She was brilliant. From a very young age, she left everyone in the dust. Her brothers, her father... none of them could touch her intellect. She was so undeniable that Grandfather skipped an entire generation just to make her the Head of the Vanderbilts."
Alex leaned against the wall, crossing his arms to hide the smirk threatening to break his composure.
Listening to her complint her own genius with such absolute conviction was the most narcissistic thing he’d ever heard. And she was loving every second of it.
"I was a contender too, you know," she continued, her voice gaining a bitter edge. "But I stepped aside. I decided to follow her. To serve her. When her husband died, I was the one holding her together. I was there through her darkest monts."
She whipped around to face him, the tears gone, replaced by a cold, simring rage.
"And how did she repay ? That evil bitch."
She spat the word out with such venom that Alex almost flinched.
"She stole him," she whispered. "My husband."
Alex raised an eyebrow. Now we’re getting into the soap opera territory.
"She took him from ," Vivienne lied, weaving the fabrication with expert precision.
"My husband... that weak, spineless bastard... beca her toy. She slept with him, used him, and humiliated him. And she did it while smiling at over breakfast."
She took a step toward Alex, her eyes burning.
"So yes," she said, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "I hate her. And I intend to teach her a lesson she’ll never forget."
The declaration hung in the air between them, heavy with years of buried rage.
"They didn’t know that I knew," she continued, her tone shifting from anger to cold calculation. "I played the fool. I let them think I was blind. I waited. I watched. I bided my ti, waiting for an opportunity to hurt her the way she hurt ."
She stopped inches from him, her hand reaching out to touch his chest.
"And then... you appeared."
A slow, predatory smile spread across her face.
"She ordered to look into you. A man who stole the villa she wanted. She was furious. But when I dug into your background... when I saw your history with Jennifer..."
She ran her hand down his chest, her touch electric.
"I realized I wasn’t just looking at a target. I was looking at a weapon."
The story was perfect. The pacing, the emotion, the tearful pause... it was a masterclass in manipulation. He found himself wondering if she had rehearsed this script in front of a mirror, preparing for this exact mont, or if she was simply a prodigy of deceit, spinning elaborate fictions on the fly.
’Either way,’ he thought, ’she’s magnificent.’
But he had a role to play.
He looked down at her, letting a shadow of hurt darken his expression. He caught her hand where it rested on his chest, stopping its movent but not pushing it away.
"So," he said, his voice low and edged with skepticism. "That’s all I am to you? A weapon?"
Vivienne didn’t flinch. She laughed softly, a sound that brushed against his skin like velvet.
"Oh, co now, Alex." She leaned in, her body radiating heat. "Don’t play the wounded saint with ."
She tilted her head, her eyes searching his.
"Don’t tell you don’t want it. Don’t tell you don’t dream of making that little brat pay for whatever she did to you."
Alex held her gaze. He said nothing, letting the silence act as a confession.
"Don’t deny it," she whispered, her smile returning... small, knowing, dangerous. "I can see it. I saw it earlier."
Her fingers tightened on his shirt.
"The way your jaw tightened when I ntioned Jennifer’s na. The shadow in your eyes." She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a hypnotic rhythm. "I saw the anger you tried to bury. The bitterness rotting underneath the handso face."
She reached up, tapping his chest right over his heart.
"I can help you, Alex."
"Help , How?" His voice was carefully neutral.
Vivienne’s eyes glead with sothing dark and delicious. She stepped even closer, her body pressed fully against his now.
"Imagine this." Her voice was silk and poison. "Jennifer Vanderbilt. That spoiled, cruel little princess who counted points while you bled. Imagine her standing in a room, powerless. Watching."
Her breath was warm against his jaw.
"Watching while you fuck her mother."
The words hung in the air like a live wire.
Alex’s pulse quickened despite himself.
Vivienne felt it. Her smile turned predatory.
"Picture it," she continued, her voice a low purr. "Vivienne Vanderbilt — the great CEO, the untouchable matriarch — on her knees. Or bent over a desk. Or wherever you want her. Completely at your rcy."
Her fingers traced his collarbone.
"And Jennifer? She’s right there. Forced to witness her own mother being taken by the man she tried to destroy. The humiliation. The betrayal. The absolute shattering of her world."
She pulled back just enough to et his eyes.
"Wouldn’t that be delicious?"
Alex stared at her.
The image she’d painted was vivid. Brutal. Twisted.
And undeniably tempting.
Vivienne watched his face, reading every microexpression, every flicker of response.
"I can make it happen," she said softly. "I can orchestrate the whole thing. Get Vivienne interested. Make sure Jennifer finds out at exactly the right mont. Create the perfect storm of humiliation and revenge."
She leaned in again, her lips brushing his ear.
"All you have to do is say yes."
The silence stretched.
Alex studied her face. The hunger there. The calculation. The absolute certainty that she was offering him sothing he couldn’t refuse.
"And what do you get out of this?" he asked quietly.
Her smile widened.
"Satisfaction." She said the word like it was sacred. "The satisfaction of watching Vivienne Vanderbilt lose sothing she wants. The satisfaction of seeing Jennifer humiliated by the sa man she tried to destroy."
Her fingers traced a slow line down his chest.
"And maybe... the satisfaction of having you all to myself."
The air between them crackled with tension.
Then Alex’s hand slid up to cup the back of her neck, his fingers threading through her hair.
"You’re playing a dangerous ga, Helena," he said quietly.
Her breath caught.
"So are you," she whispered back.
For a long mont, they stood there... locked together, the tension between them electric and combustible.
Then Alex smiled.
Slow. Dark. Full of promise.
"Tell more," he said.
Vivienne’s eyes blazed with triumph.
"Tonight," she breathed. "Dinner. Villa Six. Eight o’clock."
She pulled back, her fingers trailing down his chest one last ti.
"My boss will be there. And I think..." Her smile turned wicked. "...I think you two are going to get along very, very well."
She stepped away, smoothing her blouse, reassembling the mask with visible effort.
"Don’t be late," she said, her voice steadier now but still carrying an edge of breathlessness.
And then she was gone... heels clicking through the bedroom, down the stairs, leaving Alex alone on the terrace with the taste of her still on his lips and the echo of her proposition hanging in the air.
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