Chapter 1

George Milton's hand clamped around my waist, his voice hoarse and heavy with desire. "Baby, I want you to use that innocent-but-sexy look you've got to go seduce Jordan Baker."

I went completely still.

Confused, I looked up at him, my eyes wet, the corners red.

The sight only made his breathing rougher, and he thrust into me with a new, raw intensity. After another round of frantic movement, he finally went quiet.

Satisfied, he wrapped himself around me from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder, his hot breath spilling over my neck.

"Catelyn, you heard me, right? Sarah's hurting. Now it's your turn to do your part."

My body went stiff.

Sarah Byrnes was his first love. There wasn't a thing she could ask for that George wouldn't give her.

Just last night, while he was inside me, Sarah had called.

On the phone, she cried pitifully, telling him Jordan had dumped her.

Sarah was the kind of rich girl who always got even. She was determined to make Jordan feel what it was like to be thrown away, and she sweetly begged George to help her.

Of course, he didn't say no.

Even with me pinned beneath him, his movements harsh, he softened his voice for her, comforting her with gentle promises.

So that was it—he wanted me to seduce Jordan, just so I could dump him and get revenge for her.

I was just his kept woman. I didn't have the right to refuse.

After my family's business went under, my father jumped from a skyscraper.

My mother got into a car crash as she was rushing to the hospital. That crash left her in a vegetative state, kept alive only by expensive medicine.

With nowhere else to go, I got into George's bed. That night, he was gentle, nothing like the ruthless, spoiled heir everyone said he was.

Afterward, he held my chin between his fingers and asked my name.

"Catelyn Stark," I said, my voice shaking like any girl's would after first time.

He gave a faint smile. "Stay."

He handed me an unlimited black card and promised to cover all my mother's medical expenses. When he wiped my tears away, his thumb lingering on the beauty mark by my eye, he said softly, "Catelyn, you have me now."

From that moment on, I was his.

George was infamous in our circles—a playboy who changed women faster than he changed clothes. But after me, he seemed to calm down.

For three whole years, I was the only one by his side. And I really started to believe I was different.

"Why?" My voice broke with the hurt.

He let out a low, mocking laugh, his fingers stroking my lips as gently as they always did after intimacy, but his words were cruel.

"Baby, if it wasn't for that face of yours looking so much like Sarah's, you'd never have made it into my bed. The only one I love is Sarah."

My throat closed up. A bitter taste filled my mouth. I had been so unbelievably naive.

I thought time could change anything. I thought three years would be enough to replace the one he really loved.

But the whole time, I was just her sad imitation.

It felt like a hand was squeezing my heart, tighter and tighter, until I could hardly breathe.

When he saw the tears welling in my eyes, he frowned. "I don't like it when women act like this."

My heart dropped.

George hated crying. He thought it was just a trick women used to get sympathy.

Impatience sharpened his tone. "Enough. It's just seduction. Who are you putting on a show for?"

I bit down hard on my lip, tasting blood, and forced the tears back. My voice came out dry and scraped raw. "Okay."

I locked away every foolish hope, and with it, the heart I never should have given him.