Their Villain, The Mogul's Beloved

Natasha had no intention of setting foot back in that house, but Andrew’s call about her grandma’s place pulled her in.

Her childhood was a heavy, gray cloud, with one bright spot: her grandma.

Everyone blamed Natasha for her aunt’s death, saying she owed Olivia everything, but her grandma never made her play second fiddle.

“Kids don’t cause accidents,” she’d insist, shielding Natasha from the guilt of a life lost. She’d say it loud, for all to hear.

That little courtyard at her grandma’s was Natasha’s only escape, a place to breathe free.

The Clark family’s guilt had twisted into favoritism for Olivia over the years, but her grandma loved Natasha harder for it.

Maybe she saw the day Natasha would finally break from the Clarks, so she announced, in front of everyone, that the house would be Natasha’s.

But her sudden passing left no will, and now the deed sat with Madeline. The plan was to pass it to Natasha as part of her dowry once she got married.

“Miss Clark.” The maid at the door froze, caught off guard.

Natasha was a rare sight–maybe once a year, tops.

The maid started working for the Clarks after Natasha had already moved out. She’d pegged Olivia as the real daughter, just using her mom’s last name because her parents were so tight.

First time Natasha showed up, the maid mistook her for some freeloading cousin, earning a sharp scolding from the butler.

The Clarks barely mentioned their second daughter. Most parents would worry about a kid moving out so young, but they acted like it was nothing.

The maid stole another glance at the “forgotten” daughter.

Natasha was pure Clark–more than Olivia. The Clarks were a good–looking bunch, and Natasha got the best of both parents.

Without the rumors painting her as trouble, her beauty would’ve been the talk of the town.

Olivia was pretty, but next to Natasha? A sparkler beside a firework. Good thing they rarely shared the spotlight.

But with Natasha storming in like a hurricane, the maid sighed. Dinner was about to be a mess.

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8:17 pm

Chapter 8

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Madeline jumped up. “Natasha! Come sit,

the table, her face

kid, Andrew and her brother Thomas would tease her with hot sauces, laughing when she’d gasp and fan her mouth, then fuss over her with

would end up chewing them out. But when Olivia arrived–born early, fragile, needing special meals–the Clark table went

wavered, then bounced back. “No biggie. We’ve got plenty of food. If you’re not into it, I’ll

chair and locked eyes with Andrew. “You said we’d talk about Grandma’s

tightened. “Can’t you relax ‘til after dinner? You’re

just pressed

wrong seat,” Noel said, strolling in from gaming

Madeline and Andrew on one side, the three kids on the other. Olivia always sat between Thomas and Noel–Natasha’s old spot, taken

know we started labeling chairs,” Natasha shot back. “What if

just a seat,” Olivia said, flashing a quick smile to smooth

he remembered the cops mentioning

a flicker

family feeling guilty about Natasha,

pot.

Olivia at the table’s end, he spoke up. ‘Olivia, take my

in, waving a maid over. “Grab a chair

blinked when Natasha got stuck with the end seat. But Olivia? Suddenly it was a tragedy, and the whole family

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8:17 pm

Chapter 8

into a

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look. That was enough. Natasha

was Natasha,