NATASHADad's not even looking at me anymore.I can see the disappointment radiating off him in waves, and it makes me want to crawl into a hole and die.Dad's always been selfish, always put his own interests first. It's one of the reasons he neglected Elise all her life, because he couldn't risk her rising up against him one day. But he expected me to be smarter than this. He expected me to win.Instead, I handed Elise the perfect weapon to destroy us all.My legs give out and I collapse on the velvet ottoman, sobbing so hard I can barely breathe.Everything hurts. My chest feels like it's being crushed in a vice.My head is pounding from crying. My throat is raw from screaming. My hands are shaking so badly I can't even wipe the tears from my face.But worse than the physical pain is the knowledge that this is all my fault.I'm the one who pushed too hard, too fast. I'm the one who got greedy and tried to destroy Elise before she could fight back. I'm the one who underestimated her
NATASHAThe sound of Dad's fist connecting with the massive TV screen makes me jump so hard I nearly fall off the couch.Glass explodes everywhere, skittering across our pristine marble floor like deadly confetti.“DAMN THAT DEVILS SPAWN!" Dad's voice cracks as he screams with his face this awful shade of purple I've never seen before.Veins bulge in his forehead, and for a terrifying second I think he might have a heart attack right here in our living room."DAMN THAT LITTLE WHORE!"He kicks at the broken glass, sending pieces flying across the room.One shard cuts his hand, but he doesn't even notice the blood dripping on our floor. He's completely lost it.But even with the TV destroyed, I can still see her face burned into my brain.Elise.Standing at that podium like she's some kind of fucking queen while destroying my entire life with every word that came out of her mouth.And worse is that the reporters hung on every word like the gospel.My hands won't stop shaking as I stare
ELISEThe room erupts into utter chaos of biting questions.Half the crowd is shouting indirect insults while the other half is shouting denials.Camera flashes intensify to a blinding degree and the sound level rises to a crescendo that threatens to drown out coherent thought.Words like, "HOW MANY MEN HAVE YOU SLEPT WITH TO GET REVENGE?" fly around.I wait, completely unmoved by the chaos surrounding me. My bodyguards shift slightly, ready to intervene if the crowd becomes physically aggressive, but I remain perfectly still at the podium.This is exactly what I wanted. Division. Confusion. The comfortable narrative they've all accepted beginning to crack under the weight of doubt.I wait for the chaos to die down before continuing."As for my father's little announcement yesterday..." I pause, and my voice carries a note of genuine amusement that's somehow more chilling than anger would be when I continue."Henry Blackwood seems to have forgotten a few crucial details about the fortu
ELISEMy bodyguards maintain their formation as I stride down the center aisle.The crowd parts before us, some reporters stumbling backward in their haste to avoid the advancing wall of muscle and menace.The auditorium is larger than it appeared from outside. Tiered seating rises toward the back, every level packed with journalists, photographers, and camera operators. The air conditioning struggles against the heat generated by so many bodies and electronic equipment, creating an oppressive atmosphere thick with anticipation and barely contained aggression.The hungry vultures seem thrown off for a beat. My composed entrance clearly not matching whatever broken, desperate woman they expected to see.I can feel their confusion ripple through the crowd like a physical force. Some lean forward in their seats, squinting as if trying to reconcile the poised figure before them with the narrative they've been fed.But predators adapt quickly. The moment of uncertainty passes, and their sen
ELISEI stand before the floor-length glass, watching my reflection with a small curve of my lips.My red Valentino dress is a statement of intent. The fabric hugs every curve with its angular neckline slashing across my collarbone in a way that screams danger.The hem stops just above my knees—professional enough to be taken seriously, yet short enough to remind them I don't play by their rules.My hair is swept into a severe chignon, not a strand out of place.I lean closer to the mirror, applying another coat of lipstick… bloodred and unapologetic.The color bleeds across my lips, transforming my mouth into something both beautiful and lethal. My eyes are rimmed with black, making my irises look almost supernatural in their intensity. Cold. Calculating. Unflinching.These are the eyes of a woman with nothing left to lose.The thought curls my lips into a smile that doesn't reach those eyes.I step back, assessing the final product.The world wants a villain? I'll give them one they
ELISEThe sound of hushed, urgent voices drags me from my restless sleep.My body feels heavy as though I’m wading through quicksand, yet my mind is clearer than it’s been in days.The fever has passed, but the uneasy tension in the air makes my skin prickle.Maria and Vera are near the doorway with their heads close together, whispering in tones that are sharp and hurried.“She’s still recovering,” Maria voice filters to my ears, her accent thickening with every word. “Miss Vera, por favor, let her rest. This can wait.”Vera’s clutching a sleek tablet to her chest. “You don’t understand. These are direct orders. She has to know. Now. Before it gets any worse.” “What’s going on?” My voice cuts through the tension, hoarse but unyielding.Both women freeze, caught mid-conspiracy.Maria’s face is pure concern with her eyes darting to Vera, who looks like she’s about to bolt.For a moment, neither speaks as the silence stretches.“Nothing for you to worry about, mi niña,” Maria finally b