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Now reading: Chapter 287: The Spectator – I from She Used Me for a Dare… Now I Own Her Mother, a Smut novel by WickedChapters.

Thank you.

The words hit Vivienne like a physical slap.

A sharp, twisting pain blood in her chest... not just jealousy, but sothing worse. A crushing wave of humiliation that made her throat tighten and her vision blur at the edges.

’He thinks he’s fucking .’

Her grip on the bottle tightened until her knuckles turned bone white, the glass threatening to shatter in her hands.

’He thinks he’s conquering the CEO. He thinks he’s claiming Vivienne Vanderbilt, and he’s thanking the ’assistant’ for facilitating it.’

The realization was a gut punch that knocked the air from her lungs.

Looking at Helena’s flushed, ecstatic face... watching her prim, organized cousin transford into this screaming, shaless creature... Vivienne felt sothing unexpected.

Profound, bitter disappointnt.

In herself.

’I failed,’ she thought, the realization settling like lead in her stomach. ’I let the ga go too far. I let my own shadow outmaneuver .’

She had underestimated everyone tonight. Helena’s hidden hunger. Alex’s speed. And most damning of all... she had catastrophically overestimated her own control.

She had wanted to play a ga.

Now she was watching from the sidelines while another woman reaped the reward.

But it wasn’t over.

Vivienne took a breath, forcing oxygen into her constricted lungs. The scent of sex and expensive wine filled her nostrils... a perverse combination that sohow fit the surreal nightmare unfolding before her.

Her mind sharpened, calculating, clinging desperately to the one advantage she still possessed.

’He wants the boss,’ she told herself, clutching that truth like a lifeline. ’He’s fucking her because he thinks she’s . That’s the only reason. The mont he realizes... ’

If she revealed the truth right now... if she dropped the mask and told him who really owned this house, who really signed the checks, who really held the power... his focus would shift.

He would realize he was bedding the wrong woman.

He would realize she was the prize.

’I just need to explain it properly,’ Vivienne thought, her mind racing through possibilities. ’Make him understand it was a test. A ga. Sothing playful, not deceptive.’

’I’ll tell him I wanted to see the real him. The man beneath the charm. That I needed to know he was genuine before I gave him access to... .’

It wasn’t really a lie.

Well. Not entirely.

And even if he was angry at first... even if he felt deceived... she could smooth it over. She was good at that. She’d spent years navigating boardrooms full of n with egos twice the size of their competence.

She knew how to manage wounded pride.

Vivienne straightened her shoulders, preparing to step forward. Her lips parted, the confession forming on her tongue.

’I am the real Vivienne Vanderbilt, and you... ’

"Nnngh... ah-hah!"

A wet, broken gasp shattered the mont.

Helena.

She fought through the haze of pleasure, her neck straining as she lifted her head with visible effort. Her glazed, heavy-lidded eyes found Vivienne in the doorway, and her expression shifted... from pure ecstasy to sothing darker.

Cruel. Drugged. Triumphant.

She blinked slowly, feigning sudden recognition, as if she were genuinely surprised to see the help standing there.

"Oh..." Helena panted, her voice breathy and broken. "Helena..."

She used the na like a weapon... her own na... twisting the knife by stripping Vivienne of her identity completely.

"You’re... ah! ...you’re finally here."

’This bitch.’

Vivienne’s jaw locked so hard her teeth ached.

She watched, paralyzed by fury and disbelief, as Helena let out a sharp cry... Alex hitting so particularly deep spot inside her... but refused to look away. Instead, she beckoned with a trembling, unsteady hand, summoning the billionaire CEO like a common waitress.

"Co... here," Helena ordered between moans, her voice dripping with condescension that would have been unthinkable re hours ago. "Don’t just... stand there."

She gestured blindly toward the man pounding into her from behind, her hand waving dismissively.

"Give the wine to Mr. Hale... he... oh God! ...he’s so good... so fucking good."

Vivienne stood rooted to the spot, fury warring with shock, her mind racing.

’I’ll see how you react when I drop this ga,’ she thought viciously. ’I’ll see how smug you are when I tell him the truth. When he realizes he’s been fucking the help. When he... ’

But Alex didn’t give her ti to finish the thought.

Hearing Helena’s command, he seed to take it as a challenge.

Or perhaps encouragent.

He growled... a low, animalistic sound that rumbled from deep in his chest... and his hands clamped tighter on Helena’s hips, fingers digging into her soft flesh hard enough to leave white indentations that would bruise purple by morning.

"The wine can wait," Alex rasped, his voice rough with exertion and dark satisfaction.

He withdrew almost completely... pulling back until just the thick head of his cock remained inside her... and Helena gasped at the sudden, devastating emptiness, her body trying instinctively to pull him back in.

Then he slamd forward with terrifying force.

SMACK.

The sound of flesh colliding with flesh echoed through the dining room like a whip crack, sharp and obscene.

"OHHH!" Helena scread, her head snapping back violently, her carefully styled hair now wild and disheveled, swinging with every brutal thrust. "Oh my God... yes... Alex!"

He didn’t ease up.

He increased the pace... abandoning any pretense of gentleness or control. It wasn’t slow anymore. It wasn’t careful. It was a piston-like, rhythmic destruction that shook her entire body with each devastating impact.

He fucked her with brutal efficiency, with chanical precision, with the kind of raw power that made her breasts bounce and sway, made the table legs scrape against the marble floor, made her voice shatter into jagged shards of incoherent pleasure.

"Look at that," Alex taunted, his voice cutting through Helena’s screams with dark amusent. His hand fisted in her hair, yanking her head up, forcing her to lock eyes with Vivienne across the room.

"Tell her. Tell your assistant what she’s missing."

Helena was lost to it.

The friction. The size. The sheer, overwhelming power of him.

It was obliterating her... destroying every careful wall she’d ever built, reducing the composed professional to this screaming, sobbing ss.

She looked at Vivienne through tear-filled eyes, mascara running in black streaks down her flushed cheeks, drool gathering at the corner of her mouth, completely and utterly shaless.

"He’s... ah! ...he’s huge!" Helena wailed, the words torn from her throat as she shouted her praise directly at Vivienne’s frozen face. "God, Helena, look! He’s filling up! He’s ruining !"

Vivienne flinched as if struck.

The vulgarity of it... her quiet, reserved, professional cousin screaming about the size of a man’s cock like so common whore... was shocking.

But despite the humiliation burning hot in her chest, despite every instinct screaming at her to turn away and preserve what little dignity remained, Vivienne felt her legs move.

One step. Then another.

It wasn’t conscious. Wasn’t deliberate.

Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was disbelief. Maybe it was so sick compulsion to witness the evidence firsthand... to confirm that Helena wasn’t exaggerating, that this wasn’t just performance designed to wound her.

She approached the table hesitantly, the wine bottle clutched against her chest like a shield, her breathing shallow and uneven.

Closer.

Until she could see.

Until the angle shifted and she had a clear, unobstructed view of where their bodies joined.

And what she saw made her breath stop entirely.

Alex withdrew slowly... agonizingly slowly... pulling back until his cock erged inch by inch from Helena’s stretched opening. The shaft was massive, thick and veined and glistening with her cousin’s wetness, impossibly long as it kept sliding out and out and out until Vivienne couldn’t believe there had been room for all of it inside a human body.

Then, just as the broad head was about to slip free completely, he paused.

And slamd back in.

One brutal, claiming thrust that buried him to the hilt in a single stroke.

Helena’s scream was primal.

Vivienne’s eyes went wide, her mouth falling open in shock.

The sheer size of him. The way Helena’s body yielded... stretched impossibly, obscenely... to accommodate sothing that should have been too much, too big, too overwhelming.

How?

How was that even possible?

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