Chapter 15
I folded the paper neatly, setting it down, before lifting my gaze to Leticia’s trembling form. Then, with a slow, deliberate tilt of my head, I whispered, “And what are you going to do about it, Leticia?”
The color drained from her face. Benjamin exhaled sharply, his grip tightening around his wine glass. He didn’t speak. He didn’t move. He just… stared at me. Denial. Obsession. And something darker.
Leticia turned to him, desperate. “Benjamin, say something! You see it, don’t you? It’s her! It’s Nevaeh! She’s been playing you this entire time-”
Benjamin’s jaw clenched. His fingers tapped against the table. One. Two. Three. And then, he spoke.
“Leticia.” She looked at him, hopeful. “Go home.”
She froze. “What?!”
Benjamin leaned forward, his voice dangerously low. “You’re making a scene.”
Leticia staggered back as if he’d physically hit her. “Are you–Are you seriously defending her?”
He didn’t answer. Because he didn’t need to. His silence was enough. I reached for my glass again, taking another slow sip, before rising gracefully from my seat. I stepped closer to Leticia, so close she could feel the warmth of my breath against her ear.
Then I whispered, just for her, “You’ve already lost.”
She shook, fists clenched at her sides, but she didn’t move. Because she knew. She was alone. Even Benjamin–her Benjamin–was entranced by the ghost of his dead wife. And I? I walked away. Untouched. Unstoppable.
***
Benjamin was unraveling, and I was loving every second of it. Since Leticia’s outburst at dinner, he had become obsessed. His once–cold logic was failing him, drowning under the weight of a ghost he couldn’t escape. He called in private investigators, demanded reports, searched for proof that Nevaeh Willoughby was truly dead. But there was nothing. Just ashes from a carefully staged explosion–an illusion I had orchestrated to erase my past. And while he spiraled, I dismantled him piece by piece. Business partners began to withdraw investments, competitors suddenly found new allies–me. Whispers filled boardrooms, speculating on Benjamin’s decline, his uncharacteristic distraction. The great Benjamin Willoughby was slipping, and no one knew why.
Except Leticia. But no one believed her.
She was coming undone, drinking herself into a stupor, screaming to anyone who would listen. “She’s Nevaeh! She’s that dead bitch! Why won’t you see it?” But Benjamin wasn’t listening. His mind was elsewhere–on me. And just like I knew she would, she came to
- me.
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it was well past midnight when the heavy doors of my office slammed open. I didn’t flinch. Didn’t even look up from the paperwork I had no intention of finishing. The sharp click of heels echoed through the room, the uneven steps betraying the rage and liquor coursing through her veins. Then–click.
The cold press of a gun kissed my temple.
1 exhaled slowly, finally meeting Leticia’s gaze. Her hand trembled, but her eyes were alight with pure, unhinged hatred. “Admit it,” she seethed. “Admit you’re her.”
I tilted my head, allowing the barrel to press harder against my skin. Then I took a step forward
She stiffened. “Stay right there.”
I didn’t. Step, Step, Step.
Until the gun was pressed so tight against my forehead, I could almost taste the metal. My lips curled, “Do it,” I whispered. “Pull the trigger, Leticia.” Her breath hitched. I leaned closer, voice softer now. “Let’s see how much you really matter to Benjamin.”
Her grip faltered. There it was–the doubt. The crushing realization that she was losing. Losing him. Losing control. Losing the game she thought she had already won. She had spent years forcing her way into his life, crawling, clawing her way to his side, desperate to be his only weakness. But now? Now she was just a shadow. And I? I was the ghost haunting him.
Her fingers twitched on the trigger, but she didn’t pull it. She couldn’t. I moved first. In a swift motion, I wrenched her wrist, twisting it until the gun clattered to the floor. Leticia gasped, eyes wide as I grabbed the weapon, spinning it in my grip with a lazy familiarity. Then I pressed it against her temple.
Her whole body went rigid. “V–Valeria…”
I leaned in, lips brushing the shell of her ear. “Your time is running out.”
She trembled. This wasn’t fear–it was realization. For the first time, she understood she was outmatched. She had always been nothing more than Benjamin’s plaything, easily discarded, easily replaced. She just hadn’t realized it until now.
I smirked, tossing the gun onto my desk with a bored flick of my wrist. “Run along now,” I murmured, already turning away. “Before I decide to actually kill you.”
She stumbled back. One step. Two. Then she turned and fled.
I listened to the frantic clatter of her heels, the sharp gasp of her breath. And when the door finally slammed shut behind her, I allowed myself the smallest of smiles.
Checkmate,
The office was silent now, save for the faint ticking of the clock on the wall. The scent of Leticia’s desperation still lingered in the air, but it no longer entertained me. She was weak.
Chapter 15
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14:46 Wed, 2 Apr CHECKIllate.
The office was silent now, save for the faint ticking of the clock on the wall. The scent of Leticia’s desperation still lingered in the air, but it no longer entertained me. She was week, Predictable. A woman spiraling into her own irrelevance.
I had bigger things to deal with. Like the man who had just thrown a cold beer onto my desk. I arched a brow as Donovan leaned against the doorway, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching me with a look that hovered between amusement and exasperation. “You’re insane,” he muttered, shaking his head.
I smirked, cracking the beer open and taking a slow sip. “Am I that dangerous to you, Donovan?” I taunted, licking the rim of the bottle just to see if he’d react.
He didn’t say anything. Just stared, his eyes dark and unreadable. Interesting. I rose from my chair and walked toward him, slow, deliberate steps. He didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. Just let me come closer, as if daring me to push him.
So I did.
I reached up, gripping his jaw, my thumb brushing against his lips. Strong. Firm. Tempting. “You’re handsome, you know that?” I murmured. “More than my ex–husband, by far.” Something flickered in his gaze, but he didn’t speak.
I leaned in, letting my lips ghost over his before whispering, “But I don’t want to play with your feelings.”
Then I turned away.
I barely took a step before his hands caught my hips, yanking me back. A gasp escaped
me, but it turned into a sharp intake of breath when his mouth crashed onto mine. Fire. Heat. A collision of want and warning.
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Chapter 16
