Their Villain, The Mogul's Beloved

The staff had parked the car in the garage, and by the time Natasha got it out, Olivia was waiting, planted right on the curb.

She stepped in front of the car, blocking Natasha’s path like she owned the road.

Olivia’s dress was still a wreck, stained with grime, her hair a wet, matted mess from some spilled soup. But despite looking like she’d crawled out of a dumpster, she was practically radiating smug

victory.

Natasha could picture it clear as day–Olivia sweet–talking the Clark family before heading out, playing the poor little victim who still cared about her “baby sis,” trying to glue the family back together.

What a warm, fuzzy scene–doting parents, happy siblings, total Hallmark BS.

The two faced off by the car, the air crackling with tension.

“Natasha, I told you, didn’t I? Everything you’ve got, I’m taking back, piece by piece. You owe me,” Olivia said.

Natasha glared at her adoptive sister, who’d been fighting her for every crumb since they were kids. She didn’t mince words. “What’s so great about my hand–me–downs? Anything I’ve touched, you just gotta snatch up like it’s treasure, huh? Olivia, you a creep or just that pathetic?”

smirk crept back. “You’re dying for Grandma’s house, aren’t you? Way more than when the Clark family shares got

need something old–like a house–to keep my life from going off the rails. So Mom and Dad picked that one without a second thought. Funny, huh?

back to her parents‘ shifty looks when she’d brought up the estate, to Andrew’s slip about “giving

decided. Engaged or not, that house was

threats were just a weak stall

a pathetic shred of hope they’d at least honor

sick joke, she

done feeling their betrayal. They

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8:18 pm

Chapter 10

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it–Olivia or Natasha. But to Natasha, anyone else in the world could have it. Anyone but

with a murderous