Their Villain, The Mogul's Beloved

hapter 39

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When Natasha first moved out at eighteen, Madeline had secretly visited her place. To save money, Natasha shared an apartment near the university with a friend.

It was crowded and noisy–right by a commercial street. But Madeline was angry at Natasha’s defiance, hoping hardship would force her home. Though it hurt, she stayed out of it.

Natasha, stubborn as ever, never asked for help. By the time Madeline reconsidered, Olivia said Natasha had moved.

Madeline assumed she’d accepted their money for a better place. Subsequent meetings were either at the Clark mansion or elsewhere.

This was Madeline’s first visit to Natasha’s new home in years. Her first impression upon arriving at Natasha’s place was how tiny the house was.

Accustomed to sprawling estates, the compact space felt stifling for Madeline. Margot’s accusation of favoritism echoed uncomfortably. The smallest property gifted to Olivia dwarfed this

apartment.

Alexei was out. Natasha let Madeline in and poured her a cup of water. The quiet tension between them was thick.

Madeline took a breath. “This place is too cramped. Thomas will arrange a new apartment for you.”

“No need for that. I can’t accept it.” Natasha’s refusal was flat.

Madeline fumed. “Why not? You’re our daughter. A house is nothing—we’d look bad if we shortchanged you.”

Natasha scoffed. “I’m afraid you’ll demand it back someday.”

the Clarks, they’d claimed everything she took was theirs. They cut her money and had maids search her bags, banning valuables. They treated her as if she were their

single suitcase beside her, she’d endured the humiliation

her of ingratitude and spite. Andrew, usually composed, had trembled

“We’ve cleaned up your messes for 18 years. What more do you want? Ungrateful! You won’t rest until you’ve torn this family apart,

But if you have any

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4:35 pm PD

Chapter 39

EX 20 vouchers

chained Natasha to them. Clutching

be born. And the law obligates you to support me

monthly. I got $300. If you’re fine with

you wasted money. And we gave

got them,” Natasha’s voice

it your way. Step out that gate, and not a single Clark cent Couches

the scandal of demanding her repayment, and Andrew hadn’t truly wanted the money.

turning away, “if claiming my basic rights is this hard, I won’t covet a single thing that

far less than the Clark standard. She owed them nothing. If necessary, she’d repay

to give; she expected nothing. Getting less before eighteen meant aking more later would only deepen the debt

From that point on, she never once turned to the

At first, she scraped by on part–time wages, stretching one bread for two meals and crying through illness

bare hands. No one could reclaim it, point

uncomfortably, and she touched her nose. “Must you hold