Chapter 2

And just like that, my life as a kept woman in the villa began.

Every morning, I'd sleep in until I woke up naturally and wander into the dining room in my silk nightgown.

The chef, Mary Bush, would have breakfast ready. She made a mix of local and foreign dishes, spread out across the whole table.

I'd pick out a few of my favorites, take my time eating, and then head to the living room to watch TV.

For lunch, I'd eat whatever Mary cooked. Nathan had poached her from a five-star hotel, and her cooking was way better than anything I'd ever had at the Sawyer family.

Her steak was spicy and fragrant, the fried chicken was crispy on the outside and tender on the inside, and the beef stew just melted in my mouth.

And her homemade wine was so sweet, with a hint of alcohol, that I could drink two glasses of it.

In the afternoon, I'd take a nap and then catch up on my dramas. Lately, I was hooked on a period drama. The guy was dashing, and the girl was stunning, but the storyline was brutal.

Whenever the plot got too intense or heartbreaking, I'd skip ahead. No way was I letting that drama mess with my vibe.

At night, Nathan would sometimes come home for dinner, sometimes not.

If he were home, we'd eat together. If not, I'd eat by myself. After dinner, I'd keep watching my dramas until I got sleepy and went to bed.

Five days slipped by just like that.

By then, I'd gained three pounds.

On the sixth afternoon, I was sprawled out on the couch, watching TV.

I had on a pale blue silk nightgown, a matching bear headband, my hair loose, totally bare-faced, and a bag of chips hugged to my chest.

I heard something at the door.

I didn't budge.

Footsteps came closer, and then the couch sank beside me.

I glanced over.

Nathan was back, dressed to the nines in a suit, his hair perfectly styled. He looked like he'd just come from some big event.

He leaned against the armrest, tilting his head to look at me, his eyes sizing me up, and there was something else in his gaze I couldn't quite read.

"You've just been lying here?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said, crunching on my chips and turning back to the TV. "Need something?"

He was silent for a few seconds and suddenly said, "Samantha's back, and you got kicked out. Not feeling too great, are you?"

My hand stilled.

"If you want revenge," he spoke slowly, almost carelessly, "I can help you. But only if..."

He drew out the last syllable, his gaze landing on my face.

"Beg me," he said.

I kept my eyes glued to the TV, but my mind was racing.

Samantha Sawyer was the real heiress that the Sawyer family brought back.

Ever since she showed up, my life had turned upside down.

First, she took over my room, claiming she just wanted to "see what it's like living as Tiffany."

Then she started snatching my clothes and bags, always with that innocent look, "You don't mind, right?"

And then there were my so-called parents, Vera and Mark Sawyer.

They started giving me those disappointed looks, telling me I was clueless, that I should let Samantha have her way.

Finally, on the day the DNA results came out, Samantha stood there with teary eyes and said, "Tiffany, I know it's tough for you, but..."

But what? I guessed she wanted to tell me, "But the Sawyer family doesn't need a daughter who's not related by blood."

I just wanted to say, "If you want me gone, just say it. No need for all the buildup."

But I kept quiet, because Vera and Mark were already looking at me like I was nobody to them.

Twenty years after being their daughter was nothing compared to a single DNA report.

It would be a lie to say it didn't break my heart.

But revenge? I paused, and then snapped a chip between my teeth with a loud crunch.

I said, "Yeah, that whole thing was pretty annoying.

"But it's not like I need to get revenge or anything.

"Just forget it."

Nathan's lips flickered with disappointment for a split second. Then, he was back to normal.

It happened so fast that I wondered if I'd just imagined it. When I looked again, his expression was back to that laid-back, indifferent vibe.

That was weird.

But I didn't think much of it and just kept watching my show.

The next day, I slept in until I woke up naturally and wandered into the dining room for breakfast.

Mary was nowhere to be seen. A younger lady had taken her place.

She smiled when she saw me. "Morning, Ms. Watson. Mr. Peterson said he's got something going on today, so he probably won't be home for dinner tonight."

"Oh," I nodded, taking a sip of my milk. "Where's Mary?"

The lady replied, "She's got some family stuff to take care of, so she's on leave for a few days.

"I'll be handling your meals while she's gone. Just let me know if there's anything you want to eat."

I thought for a moment and asked for a few dishes.

Later that afternoon, I was sprawled out on the couch, watching TV, when I heard some noise at the door.

I figured it was just Nathan coming home, so I didn't pay it any mind. But when I looked up, I saw two guys in black suits walking in.

I recognized one of them. It was Nathan's assistant, Quinn Miller.