Novel Full Chapter 276: Becoming Her
Chapter 276: Becoming Her
Vivienne moved with a steady, fluid grace, her panic settling into a cold, hard knot of anticipation deep in her stomach. The cool air of the villa swirled around her bare thighs, but it no longer felt chilling.
It felt electric.
Every step was a delicious secret. The lining of her pencil skirt brushed against her sensitive skin, a constant, erotic friction that reminded her exactly who she belonged to in this moment.
And beside her… Alex.
He walked with an easy, predatory confidence that made her heart race… not from fear, but from a dizzying sense of pride.
She glanced at his trouser pocket. She knew exactly what was tucked inside. A scrap of black lace.
He was carrying her panties like a trophy.
And she was walking beside him, exposed, wet, and pretending to be an assistant leading him to her boss.
The sheer audacity of it made her head spin. It was reckless. It was insane. And God help her, she couldn’t wait to see what he did next.
They reached the double mahogany doors of the grand dining room. Vivienne stopped, turning to face him. She didn’t shrink away. She met his gaze, her eyes bright with the thrill of the game.
“Please,” she said, her voice steady, rich with a hidden meaning only he could hear. “Go inside. Make yourself comfortable.”
She gestured to the heavy wood, a small, knowing smile playing on her swollen lips.
“I’ll go inform Mrs. Vanderbilt that you’ve arrived. She’s just upstairs.”
Alex stopped, looking down at her. He seemed to sense the shift in her… the way she had pieced herself back together, the way she was now leaning into the danger rather than running from it.
“Don’t take too long, Helena,” he murmured.
He stepped into her space, crowding her against the wood, his voice dropping to a rough whisper against her ear.
“I’m eager to meet the great Vivienne Vanderbilt.”
He pulled back, just enough to catch her gaze. His eyes were dark, heavy with the memory of what he’d just done.
Slowly, deliberately, he dragged his tongue across his lower lip… catching the phantom taste of her that still lingered there.
“I wonder if she tastes as sweet as her assistant.”
Vivienne’s breath hitched, a fresh wave of heat crashing through her. She didn’t look away. She didn’t stammer.
She simply nodded, her eyes burning with a challenge.
“I suppose you’ll have to find out.”
With that, she turned and walked away, hips swaying with deliberate provocation until she rounded the corner… and then the performance shattered.
She kicked off her heels, snatched them up in one hand, and bolted for the service stairs, her bare feet slapping against the cold marble.
The lust was instantly replaced by a frantic, clawing adrenaline, her mind screaming a single, desperate prayer as she raced toward the master suite:
Please, Helena… for the love of God, play your part well.
***
Helena Vanderbilt stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror in the master suite, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles from the emerald green silk gown she’d borrowed from Vivienne’s closet.
The dress fit perfectly… they were nearly the same size, though Vivienne would never admit it. It was a masterpiece of intimidation and elegance: high neck, long sleeves, cascading to the floor like liquid money.
But when she turned, the back plunged dangerously low, exposing a swath of skin that hinted at the woman beneath the title.
Diamond studs glinted at her ears… Vivienne’s signature pieces. Her hair was swept back in the exact, severe chignon Vivienne wore to destroy competitors, not a strand out of place.
She looked like Vivienne Vanderbilt.
And for the first time in her life… she felt like her.
Powerful.
Untouchable.
A leader.
A flush of pure, giddy pleasure bloomed across her face as she admired the reflection, the intoxication of the role making her eyes shine.
But the smile faltered slightly as the reality of the night settled in.
She wasn’t just wearing the crown to intimidate a business rival. She was wearing it to be hunted.
Tonight, she was the target. She was the one who would have to sit there and endure Alexander Hale’s dark, assessing gaze… the one he was planning to seduce.
The thought sent a jolt through her that was equal parts terror and electric thrill.
Could she handle it? Could she maintain this mask of ice when a man who made the real Vivienne Vanderbilt stumble was focusing all that intensity solely on her?
She swallowed hard, her hand drifting to her throat.
”Damn you, Vivienne,” she whispered, shaking her head with a nervous, breathless laugh. “You and your insane games.”
Twelve years. Twelve years she’d stood at Vivienne’s side, loyal and dependable, the calm in the center of the storm. And this was how her cousin repaid that loyalty?
By making her pretend to be her in front of same man who’d apparently made the unshakeable Vivienne Vanderbilt nervous?
Helena had never seen Vivienne nervous.
Not during hostile takeovers. Not during her husband’s funeral. Not even when the board had tried to force her out three years ago.
But one afternoon visit from Alexander Hale, and Vivienne had come back to the villa flushed, flustered, and babbling about fumbling her own introduction.
’He must be something special,’ Helena thought, a flutter of curiosity mixing with her anxiety.
She had only seen a few pictures of him, but never the man himself, never face-to-face.
’What does he look like up close?’
’What kind of man makes Vivienne lose her composure?’
The nervousness twisted into something else. Something warmer. More dangerous.
A slow smile curved Helena’s lips.
’Vivienne wants me to be her tonight. Wants me to sit across from him, play the powerful CEO, maintain the illusion.’
’Fine.’
’Let’s do it properly.’
If Vivienne wanted to play games, Helena could play too. She’d watched Vivienne seduce, manipulate, and charm for over a decade. She knew every trick, every calculated smile, every strategic pause.
’And Vivienne wants to seduce him, doesn’t she?’
The smile widened, turning mischievous.
’What if I seduce him first?’
The thought was delicious. Taboo. Utterly irresistible.
Imagine Vivienne’s face when she realized her loyal cousin had stolen the man she’d gone to such elaborate lengths to ensnare. The shock. The fury. The jealousy.
Helena laughed… quiet, conspiratorial, aimed at no one but herself.
’Oh, this is going to be fun.’
Let Vivienne squirm. Let her watch “her boss” flirt with the man she wanted. Let her try to maintain the “Helena” charade while Helena made him laugh, made him lean closer, made him forget the assistant existed.
But the amusement faded slightly as she glanced toward the hallway again.
’Where are they?’
Vivienne had left ten minutes ago. The gate was barely fifty meters from the villa entrance. Even if they’d stopped to chat, it shouldn’t take this long.
Helena moved to the window, peering through the sheer curtains toward the driveway.
Empty.
No sign of Vivienne. No sign of their guest.
’What’s taking so long?’
A flicker of unease crept in.
Had something happened? Had Vivienne changed her mind? Had Alex not shown up?
The door to the master suite flew open with a bang.
Helena jumped, her heart leaping into her throat, as Vivienne burst into the room.
But this wasn’t the composed, calculating CEO she knew.
Vivienne was breathless, her chest heaving beneath the thin white blouse. She was barefoot, clutching her stilettos in one hand like weapons. Her hair… usually an architectural marvel… was loose, strands sticking to her flushed neck.
And her lips…
Helena’s eyes widened. Vivienne’s lips were swollen. Bitten. Bruised a deep, undeniable red.
”Helena!” Vivienne hissed, kicking the door shut with her heel and dropping her shoes to the floor. She shoved her feet into them, wobbling slightly as she tried to regain her balance.
”Are you ready? He’s downstairs. He’s waiting.”
Vivienne rushed over, her hands fluttering nervously as she reached out to smooth a nonexistent wrinkle on Helena’s shoulder.
”Now, listen to me,” Vivienne commanded, though her voice was breathless and frantic.
“Don’t be nervous. Just breathe. Everything will be alright. You just have to be natural. Follow my lead, say as little as possible, and…”
She stopped.
Helena wasn’t listening.
Helena was staring at her.
She was looking at the flush on Vivienne’s chest. At the disheveled blouse. At the lips that looked like they had been devoured only seconds ago.
Helena stepped forward.
She didn’t flinch. She didn’t stammer.
She walked right past Vivienne, her silk gown rustling softly, her chin held high.
”Come along, Helena,” she cut in, her voice icy and imperious.
Vivienne froze mid-sentence. Her mouth hung open slightly.
Helena stopped at the door, turning back to look at her cousin with a perfect, dismissive arch of her eyebrow. She raked her gaze down Vivienne’s disheveled appearance… from the messy hair to the crooked collar… and let out a short, unimpressed sigh.
”We shouldn’t waste time here,” Helena said, channeling twelve years of watching Vivienne destroy subordinates. “Since our guest is waiting, let’s go welcome him properly.”
She gestured vaguely at Vivienne’s chest.
”And fix your blouse. You look a mess.”