"You... you let ," Jennifer whispered, her voice barely a thread of sound.
The rage that had been sustaining her evaporated, replaced by a hollow, sucking vacuum of humiliation.
Helena was right.
No one had dragged her to this villa in chains. No one had forced her to climb those stairs or spy through that curtain.
She had walked into this trap with her eyes wide open, thinking she was the hunter when she’d been prey all along.
"Exactly," Vivienne said, her voice cool and clinical.
She stepped closer to the table, her naked form moving with the confidence of a woman who’d won a war her daughter hadn’t even known they were fighting.
"We simply provided the stage, darling. Your own desperate need to prove yourself did all the rest."
She stopped beside Jennifer’s trembling form, looking down at her daughter with sothing between pity and contempt.
"You were so consud with beating ... with showing everyone you were better, smarter, more desirable... that you never stopped to ask the most basic question."
Vivienne leaned in closer.
"Who sent you here, Jennifer? Who gave you that convenient little text ssage at exactly the right mont?"
Jennifer’s breath caught.
"You’re so deep in Cassandra’s pocket that you can’t even think for yourself anymore," Vivienne continued, her voice dropping to sothing colder. "She whispers in your ear, fills your head with ambition and spite, and you co running like a trained dog."
She straightened, smoothing a strand of hair from her face with casual grace.
"You ca here to steal what’s mine. To take my place. To prove you were woman enough to handle what I couldn’t."
Vivienne’s smile was razor-sharp.
"And you never once questioned why it was all so easy."
The words landed like blows, each one stripping away another layer of Jennifer’s pride.
’The text.’
’The timing.’
’The open gate.’
But then sothing inside Jennifer snapped.
Not into submission.
Into defiance.
"A PUPPET?" Jennifer scread, her voice raw and vicious. "You’re calling a puppet?"
She pushed herself upright, her legs trembling but holding, fury overriding exhaustion.
"Look at yourself, Mother!" Jennifer’s hand shot out, pointing at Vivienne with shaking fingers. "You’re on your knees for him! Spreading your legs whenever he snaps his fingers! You SOLD your own daughter to him like so kind of offering!"
Her voice cracked but she didn’t stop.
"Who’s the puppet here? Who’s the one who can’t think for herself anymore? You’ve beco his fucking slave and you have the audacity to lecture about being manipulated?"
She whirled toward Alex, her eyes blazing despite the tears streaming down her face.
"This is what you wanted, isn’t it?" Jennifer spat. "To turn us against each other? To watch mother and daughter destroy themselves fighting over you?"
Her breath ca in ragged gasps.
"You’re probably loving this. The girl who once laughed at you now desperate enough to beg. The woman who could have had anyone reduced to..."
"Jennifer."
Vivienne’s voice cut through the tirade like a blade.
She moved quickly, stepping between her daughter and Alex, her hand reaching out as if to shield him from Jennifer’s accusations.
She turned back to Jennifer, her expression hardening.
"You’re making this worse for yourself," Vivienne hissed. "Stop talking. Just stop."
But her eyes... her eyes carried sothing else.
Not anger.
Fear.
Fear of what Alex might do if Jennifer kept pushing.
Vivienne turned away from her daughter, her attention shifting to Alex.
The change was imdiate and startling... the cold CEO dissolved, replaced by sothing softer, almost vulnerable.
She moved to him, her hand lifting to rest against his chest, her eyes seeking his face with desperate hope.
"Master," she said quietly, her voice carrying a note of genuine concern that made Jennifer’s stomach turn.
"Master, please," Vivienne said, her voice dropping to sothing softer, almost pleading. "Don’t listen to her. She doesn’t know what she’s saying. She’s confused, hurt..."
Her fingers traced idle patterns against his skin.
"But she’s still my daughter. Despite everything... she’s still mine."
Vivienne’s eyes lifted to et his.
"I won’t ask you to forgive her. She doesn’t deserve that. But..."
She hesitated, genuine fear flickering across her face.
"Please don’t break her completely. Be... asured. She’s young. Stupid. Easily manipulated."
Alex’s hand ca up slowly, his fingers catching Vivienne’s chin and tilting her face up to his.
"You’re asking to go easy on her?" he asked, his voice carrying dark amusent.
"I’m asking you to be strategic," Vivienne whispered. "Broken toys aren’t fun to play with twice."
Alex’s smile widened.
His arm wrapped around Vivienne’s waist, pulling her flush against him, and his eyes shifted over her shoulder to lock onto Jennifer’s horrified gaze.
"Don’t worry," he said, his voice carrying easily across the room.
His hand slid down Vivienne’s back, gripping her ass with casual ownership.
"I won’t destroy her. Not completely. Not yet."
He squeezed, making Vivienne gasp softly.
"Besides, she was just begging so sweetly, wasn’t she? Offering her virgin ass like it was so precious gift. How could I stay angry at such... enthusiasm?"
His smile turned predatory.
"And if I do feel my temper rising again..."
His hand tightened on Vivienne’s flesh, his fingers digging in hard enough to leave marks.
"I can always take it out on her mother instead. Isn’t that right, Vivienne?"
"Yes, Master," Vivienne breathed, her eyes fluttering closed, her body pressing closer to his despite... or perhaps because of... the pain.
"Whatever you need. However you need it."
She turned her head slightly, looking back at her daughter with a small, satisfied smile.
"I’m sure Jennifer understands by now that we all have our roles to play."
Jennifer stared at them.
At her mother... the woman who had lectured her about dignity, about power, about never letting anyone see weakness... lting into him like wax near fla.
Offering herself as a punching bag for his anger.
Smiling as he degraded her.
’Loving it.’
"You..." Jennifer’s voice cracked, her hand lifting to point at her mother with a trembling finger.
"You pathetic... you disgusting..."
But the words wouldn’t co.
Her throat closed around them, her vision blurring with tears of rage and sha and devastating comprehension.
She couldn’t stay here.
Couldn’t watch this.
Couldn’t stand one more second of their knowing smiles and casual cruelty.
Jennifer pushed herself away from the table, her legs shaking so badly she nearly fell.
But desperation gave her strength.
She ran.
Naked, destroyed, cum and tears and sha coating her skin, she fled the dining room like sothing hunted.
Behind her, Helena’s laughter rang out... bright, delighted, cruel.
"Oh, let her go," Helena said, her voice carrying easily through the doorway Jennifer had just stumbled through.
"She won’t get far."
There was a soft rustle of movent, then Helena’s voice again, warr now, almost affectionate.
"I brought her clothes in earlier, Vivienne," she said, gesturing toward the side table.
"She’s not going anywhere."
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