The sun dipped low behind the horizon, bleeding its final rays into the city skyline, while the night slithered in, cold and merciless. The clock on the wall struck nine, but Victoria Birmingham barely noticed. She stood by the grand bay window of her lavish estate, her slender fingers wrapped around the stem of a crystal glass filled with Bordeaux wine. The deep crimson liquid swirled lazily as she rolled her wrist, but her gaze was distant, sharp and calculating.
The firelight flickered against her profile, casting long, jagged shadows on the wall. Her lips were painted a perfect shade of blood red, the same color as the wine, and her eyes—glinting with a predatory satisfaction—were fixed on nothing in particular. She was already playing the scene out in her head, envisioning the chaos she was about to unleash.
Tonight, she would destroy Olivia Brighton.
Her eyes flicked toward the fireplace mantle, where a single photograph sat in a delicate silver frame. It was of Valerie, her only daughter, smiling with a youthful innocence that no longer existed. The photo was years old—a relic of simpler times, before Ezra had poisoned her daughter’s heart with false hope and cruel indifference.
Valerie had been barely more than a girl when she first laid eyes on Ezra Birmingham. She had been infatuated with him ever since—a hopeless, destructive kind of love that had only grown more poisonous over time. Victoria could still remember the nights she had held her sobbing daughter, the girl’s voice broken with heartbreak, begging to know why Ezra wouldn’t love her back.
And then Olivia Brighton had come along—stealing away what little chance Valerie ever had. The rage Victoria had felt that night still burned, deep and unrelenting.
Valerie was drowning in despair, and tonight, Victoria was going to save her.
She set the wineglass down with deliberate care, her lips curling into a cold smile. She turned toward the large mahogany desk in the corner of the room, where her phone sat face down. With a flick of her wrist, she picked it up and dialed.
It rang once.
Twice.
On the third ring, a voice answered, rough and low.
“It’s done.”
Victoria’s smile widened slightly. She sank slowly into the armchair, crossing her legs with elegant precision.
“Good,” she purred. “Bring her to the estate. I want her here when she wakes up.”
The man on the other end of the line grunted in confirmation before hanging up.
Victoria set the phone aside and allowed herself a single, satisfied breath.
The trap had been perfectly executed.
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Olivia Brighton had barely made it out of the café when she noticed the black SUV parked just a little too close to the curb. At first, she thought nothing of it—the city was always crowded with vehicles, drivers idling as they waited for clients or passengers. But as she took another step, she felt it—a presence too close, footsteps falling into rhythm with hers.
Her chest tightened slightly. She glanced over her shoulder, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Just people walking along the sidewalk, the usual crowd of strangers.
Still, the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. She quickened her pace, her heels clicking sharply against the pavement. She slipped her phone from her coat pocket, her fingers fumbling slightly as she tried to unlock it. Her pulse was too loud in her ears, making it difficult to focus.
But before she could call Ezra, a gloved hand clamped over her mouth.
Panic exploded in her chest.
She thrashed violently, her legs kicking out, but she was already being pulled backward. A sharp prick against her neck made her stiffen. Her vision blurred almost instantly as the drug hit her bloodstream. Her limbs grew sluggish, and the last thing she heard before darkness swallowed her was the sound of the van door sliding shut.
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The first thing Olivia felt when she awoke was the ache in her wrists. Her eyes fluttered open, but her vision was slow to adjust. The room was dimly lit by a single, low-hanging chandelier. Her arms were pulled behind her, her wrists bound tightly with coarse rope that dug into her skin. Her ankles were tied as well, the circulation in her limbs already beginning to slow.
She sucked in a ragged breath and blinked slowly, the haze of the sedative still making her mind sluggish.
Where am I?
Her eyes swept the room, heart thudding violently. It wasn’t a warehouse or some anonymous, grimy basement. No—this was somewhere opulent, refined. The curtains were silk, the floors polished marble. This was someone’s home.
A chilling voice sliced through the silence.
“Oh, you’re finally awake.”
Olivia’s head jerked up at the sound, her eyes locking onto the figure standing in the doorway. Victoria.
The older woman was dressed to perfection—elegant in a midnight blue gown that clung to her figure, her hair swept back in soft waves. She looked composed, graceful, but the look in her eyes was anything but. Her gaze was sharp, cruelly triumphant.
Olivia’s throat tightened, bile rising. She pulled at the restraints, wincing as the rope bit deeper into her skin.
Victoria’s heels clicked softly against the marble floor as she crossed the room. She crouched down in front of Olivia, tilting her head slightly to the side.
“Poor thing,” she crooned softly, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from Olivia’s face. “You must be terrified.”
Olivia jerked away, her teeth gritted.
“Let me go,” she ground out, her voice hoarse with defiance.
Victoria’s lips parted slightly, feigning surprise.
“Oh, darling. You misunderstand.” She smiled sweetly, but her eyes were hard, merciless. “I’m not going to let you go. No, no…” She tsked softly. “You and I are going to have a little chat first.”
Olivia’s heart hammered in her chest.
“Ezra will find me,” she spat.
Victoria’s smile didn’t waver. She leaned in closer, her voice lowering to a venomous whisper.
“Oh, I’m counting on it.”
Her fingers traced the delicate line of Olivia’s jaw with mock gentleness before gripping it suddenly, her nails biting into Olivia’s skin.
“You see,” Victoria continued, her voice barely above a whisper, “my daughter is in love with Ezra. Has been for years. And you? You ruined her.” She squeezed Olivia’s jaw tighter, her eyes flashing with fury. “You made him forget about her. You made him forget everyone. So tell me…” Her voice dropped lower, dangerous. “Why should you get to keep him when she’s the one who’s loved him her entire life?”
Olivia’s eyes widened slightly. Valerie. She hadn’t seen it before—the strange, haunted way the girl had looked at Ezra.
“You’re insane,” Olivia rasped, her voice low with disbelief.
Victoria’s smile turned cold. She leaned down until her lips were right by Olivia’s ear.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she purred, her voice thick with malice. “You haven’t even seen insane yet.”
Then she slowly rose to her feet. With a sharp snap of her fingers, two of her men entered the room. One was tall and broad-shouldered, his face hard and impassive. The other had a leaner build, but his eyes were cold, utterly devoid of emotion.
“Take her downstairs,” Victoria ordered, her voice cool and composed. “Make sure she’s comfortable.”
Olivia’s eyes widened. She kicked out violently as the two men approached, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps.
“No!” she screamed, her voice ragged with desperation. “Let me go!”
The men wrenched her arms roughly, hauling her to her feet. She thrashed wildly, her heels scraping against the marble, but they were too strong.
As they dragged her toward the door, Victoria watched, her smile serene, her hands folded neatly in front of her.
“Oh, and Olivia?” she called sweetly.
The struggling woman twisted her head, eyes blazing with fury.
Victoria’s eyes narrowed slightly, her voice lowering into a whisper.
“Ezra isn’t coming for you.”
And then she turned away, pouring herself another glass of wine as Olivia’s screams echoed down the hallway.
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Victoria’s Triumph
Later that night, Victoria sat in her study, the flames from the fireplace dancing across her expressionless face. She sipped her wine slowly, savoring the taste.
The phone on her desk buzzed. Without looking, she picked it up and answered.
“Hello, darling,” she greeted sweetly.
On the other end, Valerie’s voice trembled with fragile hope.
“Is it done?”
Victoria’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction.
“Yes, sweetheart,” she purred. “She’s gone. It’s just a matter of time now.”
Valerie’s breath caught softly.
“Do you really think Ezra will come back to me?” she whispered.
Victoria smiled.
“Oh, my love,” she murmured, her voice like silk. “He won’t have a choice.”