Their Villain, The Mogul's Beloved

The Clark family squirmed, the air thick with awkward silence.

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Natasha was a porcupine in a fight–sharp and unyielding. Every argument ended in a blowout. This time, they’d sat down to talk, but an apology? Yeah, that wasn’t on their radar.

Still, she was right. They’d jumped to conclusions, and it made sense she felt screwed.

A quick “sorry” could smooth things over. No shame in that.

“I’m sorry,” Olivia blurted, jumping in first. “Natasha, I’m sorry for all of us. This mess started ‘cause I got hurt, and everyone flipped out. It’s not Mom or Dad’s fault. Hate me if you want.”

“This isn’t on you. It’s that snake Alice stirring crap up,” Madeline snapped.

The family broke into a loud mess of voices, all coddling Olivia, forgetting Natasha existed.

Natasha didn’t blink. She was used to being ignored. Her eyes pinned Andrew, the one running the show.

Andrew cleared his throat. “Alright, I messed up. I got you wrong. Tell me what you want, and it’s yours.”

“Shares…” Natasha let it hang, smirking as their faces soured.

Then she scoffed. “Chill, you’d never hand them over.”

Truth was, every Clark kid got 5% of the company at eighteen. Natasha’s share? Already gifted to Olivia, no questions asked.

Because they thought Natasha supposedly owed Olivia for something bigger than cash.

To them, five percent? Nothing compared to Olivia’s mom’s life.

Andrew saw the contempt in her eyes, and it hit him like a punch.

“If you’re really sorry, give me Grandma’s house. Today.” Natasha went straight for the jugular.

The house wasn’t worth much, but its sentimental value? Priceless.

Andrew and Madeline shared a weird

dodged her stare. “We’ll talk about the house

Lucas. No engagement.” Her voice was ice. “You said

turning to rage. He slammed

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8:18 pm

Chapter 9

a game. No wedding, no

do you get to

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“You think you can ditch the engagement? You know how much business we’ve got with

isn’t my problem.” She’d

so he exploded. “If you won’t marry, maybe your sister will. We’ll give her the house. Grandma

the fuse. Natasha shot up and flipped the dining table with a furious shove. Plates, glasses, and

Screams filled the room.

at the drenched Clarks, snarling, “Give it to her? She doesn’t deserve

when the table went flying, but

that you hate me, but

that?”

spat out food, grumbling, “Ignore her. She’s

tables in front of us? What’s next?” Andrew roared,

caught between rage and panic, while Thomas was

They couldn’t tell if now was the time to slip in and clean up

face, his glare hard as he laid it on the line. “You want that house? Then play

was nuts for Natasha. Twenty years as childhood besties?

trade that out.

family at a distance, but her grandma was her

battered by the family’s yelling, went dead calm. She looked at the man claiming to be her dad,

hoist her up, all smiles, swearing only the best guy could have his princess. Anyone who hurt her? He’d vowed to break their

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