Chapter 3

When he reached out to touch me, I shoved him away. Then, expressionless, I smoothed my clothes back into place.

Was he surprised? Terrified, probably. It was exactly the effect I wanted.

William's eyes shifted; his expression grew complicated, and he even stammered, "Three years ago, you saved me."

I didn't say a word. I let William tumble into doubt.

Inside, I rolled my eyes.

Of course, it wasn't me.

Long before, I'd noticed a scar on my dear Jane's shoulder.

She loved to be beautiful, and that mark always bothered her.

When I asked, Jane sighed, "I got it three years ago on that rainy night when I saved William."

I'd been stunned then. "So you're the legendary person who saved him? I heard William's been looking for you. He fell for you that night. Why didn't you come forward?"

Jane shook her head like she'd heard the worst kind of fairy tale. "No way. William's terrifying. Money or no money, he's a rotten bastard. I just didn't want to watch him die, so I pulled him out."

I nodded.

Neither of us guessed what came next. William bullied Jane in school because of her poor background.

He and Charlotte drove Jane to her death.

At the time, I'd been helpless and couldn't save Jane. That failure haunted me.

And now, I became her.

I would borrow her identity and stage the perfect revenge.

I snapped back to the moment. William was still questioning me.

My eyes rolled up and I pretended to faint.

When I opened them again, I knew my gamble had paid off.

William carried me to the infirmary and sat by my bed, watching.

He seemed dazed and lost in thought; he hadn't even noticed when I woke.

I hooked a finger through his, and he startled, as if waking from a dream.

I sat up slowly. My pale face flushes with a fevered pink—clearly alluring.

I knew exactly how to use this face to be the kind of woman who could make William fall.

Even if Jane hadn't been striking, the foggy memory of that rainy night idealized her in his mind.

Now that that blurred image overlapped with my face, he panicked.

"If you're the one who saved me, what about the earring?" William demanded, brow knotted tightly.

I stayed calm and steady. "It was Charlotte's."

"Are you absolutely sure it has nothing to do with you?" he pressed.

He still hesitated to believe me. Fine. I loosened my shirt again and took William's hand to guide it to the scar on my shoulder.

I had studied Jane's shoulder and recreated that scar exactly.

The moment his fingertips brushed it, William jerked his hand back as if scalded.

I knew then he finally believed.

After that, nobody dared bully me again.

As William's savior, I methodically dealt with everyone who had tormented Jane and me.

William let me do whatever I wanted. Even when I cracked down on his own boys, he didn't mind.

For him, it never mattered who got hurt, as long as he was amused.

See? Getting close to a dangerous man wasn't that hard.

Then the hospital phone rang. "Charlotte's awake. Samuel's on his way to the hospital."

I arrived before Samuel. When I stepped into the hospital room, Charlotte was staring daggers at me.

A doctor hovered nearby, sounding regretful. "Miss Banks is awake, but she can't speak or move. This is likely her condition for life."

Charlotte's eyes instantly welled with tears.

After the doctor left, I couldn't help but let out a little snort.

I strolled back into the room with slow, deliberate steps and looked down at Charlotte, who could only contort her face to show rage. "What a pity. Why can't you speak?" I asked.

I bent over and twined a lock of her dry, yellowed hair around my finger. "And even if you could talk, what would that change? You're already ruined."

No sooner had I finished speaking than Samuel walked in. "What do you mean, ruined?" he demanded.

I didn't have to answer. The moment Samuel saw Charlotte, his eyes flooded, and he rushed in. "Sweetheart, you're awake. You scared me to death."

Charlotte lay in bed, weeping, contorting her face and straining to send some message to Samuel.

She pinned me with a look, trying desperately to communicate.

But Samuel and she were on different wavelengths.

He simply clasped her hand tightly, tears glistening in his eyes.

"I know. Emily's been taking care of you," he said gratefully, looking at me. "We'll have to be nicer to her from now on."

Those words nearly made me burst.

I covered my face and hurried out of the room; everyone assumed I was overcome with grief for Charlotte.

Only I knew I could hardly stop myself from laughing.

When William heard Charlotte had woken up, he snorted coldly, "Lucky her."

Clearly, Charlotte's accident had William's fingerprints all over it.

My relationship with William kept growing closer.

Even before I launched the full revenge plan, I had researched him thoroughly.

Staying by his side wasn't the objective. Making him fall completely in love with me was.

Luckily, everything went smoothly.

Once, when I'd brought him breakfast, the boys in school had been green with envy.

It became a habit. William would occasionally pester me to bring him breakfast.

Each morning, I slipped something into the milk or coffee I left for him.

Over time, William grew weaker.

Eventually, he simply took sick leave.

To outsiders, his condition was mysterious. He blamed it on being run-down.

His temper soured, his mental and emotional state fraying.

And I, being the cause of it all, became, in his eyes, a kind of comfort.

During the month he was home on leave, I didn't go looking for him.

Instead, William grew more insistent, filling my chat with voice messages and long texts.

After much pleading, I finally agreed to visit.

The first person I met was his mature, steady father, Richard Sterling.

Of course, if Richard hadn't been home, I wouldn't have chosen that time to visit.

He was my real target.

Seduction was my specialty.

Richard was only forty-three but well kept—handsome, charming, and mature.

The moment he saw me, he raised an eyebrow.

He didn't say much; after a brief greeting, he watched me head into William's room.