She Used Me for a Dare… Now I Own Her Mother

Chapter 316: The Victory Party

​”The monster is the woman sitting in your office, drinking your coffee, waiting for you to sign away your birthright.”

​The words hung in the air, vibrating with a truth Jennifer didn’t want to touch.

​She stood there, her chest heaving, the fight momentarily draining out of her. She looked at her mother... standing there in silk and arrogance... and felt a wave of confusion crash over her.

​”Oh...” Jennifer choked out, her voice trembling. ”Then why did you leave? If you knew... why did you abandon us?”

​She took a jagged breath, her eyes narrowing as a thought... a weapon... formed in her mind. She decided to twist the knife.

​”Or don’t tell me...” Jennifer said, a mocking, cruel smile touching her lips. ”You weren’t strong enough to fight her?”

​Vivienne didn’t flinch. She didn’t rise to the bait.

​Instead, she lifted her glass.

​She took a slow, deliberate sip of champagne, the bubbles fizzing softly in the tense silence. She swallowed, lowered the glass, and looked at Jennifer with eyes that were terrifyingly clear.

​”I didn’t abandon anything,” Vivienne said softly.

​She lowered the glass, her eyes cold and calculating.

​”I simply... took some days off. To ensure that when I close the trap, I capture all the snakes at once.”

​She stepped closer to Jennifer, her voice dropping to a whisper that was far more terrifying than any shout.

​”All those crises you are feeling? The panic? The deadline? They are just shadows, Jennifer. Filled into you by that woman to make you dance.”

​Vivienne waved a hand dismissively, as if swatting away a fly.

​”There is no threat to my family or my company. And there will be none... until the day I am no longer the Head.”

​Jennifer stared at her.

​She looked at the woman standing in front of her, denying everything. Denying the debt calls. Denying the board revolt. Denying the very real, very lethal predator that was Richard Blackwood.

​Vivienne was acting as if Richard Blackwood was nothing. As if he were a minor annoyance, a speck of dust on her lapel, rather than the man holding a gun to their heads.

​It was the height of delusion.

​It was the look of a woman who had been on the throne so long she had forgotten that queens could bleed.

​’She’s lost it,’ Jennifer thought, the realization hitting her like ice water. ’She actually believes she is untouchable.’

​Jennifer stared at her mother, her chest heaving, her mind a whirlwind of accusations and doubt.

​Then clarity cut through the chaos like a knife.

​”No.”

​The word came out hard. Final.

Vivienne’s eyebrows lifted slightly.

”No?”

”I’m not falling for this,” Jennifer said, her voice shaking with rage. ”This... this performance. This act. You’re trying to make me doubt them. Doubt myself. Because that’s what you do, isn’t it, Mother? You manipulate. You twist. You make everyone question their own reality until they don’t know which way is up.”

She took a step forward, her finger jabbing toward Vivienne.

”But I see through you now. I finally see what you’re doing.”

Vivienne’s expression didn’t change, but something flickered in her eyes.

”And what am I doing, Jennifer?”

”You’re trying to eliminate me,” Jennifer said, the words pouring out like poison. ”You don’t want to pass anything to me. You never did. You want to rule the family alone... forever... and I’m just an obstacle. A rival waiting to take what’s yours.”

She laughed, bitter and sharp.

”So you orchestrated this whole thing, didn’t you? You let the Richard situation spiral out of control. You let Cassandra and Reginald scramble and panic. And now you’re sitting here, pretending to be some kind of martyr, when really you’re just waiting for them to throw me to the wolves.”

”Jennifer...”

”Don’t!” Jennifer’s voice cracked. ”Don’t try to deny it. Once I marry Richard, once I’m trapped in that gilded cage, you’ll have everything. The company. The family.

Complete control. And I’ll be gone... shipped off, neutralized, no longer a threat.”

Vivienne’s jaw tightened.

”You think I want you married to Richard Blackwood?”

”I think you don’t care what happens to me as long as you get what you want!” Jennifer shouted. ”You’ve spent my entire life keeping me at arm’s length. Never quite trusting me. Never quite letting me in. And now I know why.”

She gestured wildly at the bedroom, at the candles and silk and roses.

”You’re not hiding from Richard. You’re celebrating. You’ve finally found a way to get rid of your biggest problem... your own daughter... and you’re here throwing yourself a victory party!”

”That’s not...”

”Save it,” Jennifer spat. ”I don’t want to hear any more of your lies.”

She turned and strode toward the door, her hands clenched into fists.

”Enjoy your night, Mother. Enjoy your villa and your wine and your... whatever this is.”

She yanked the door open, her voice rising to a scream.

”But when Richard Blackwood destroys this family... when your arrogance and your games burn everything we’ve built to the ground... don’t you DARE come crying to me!”

She slammed the door behind her with enough force to rattle the frame.

***

Jennifer stormed down the hallway, down the stairs, past Helena’s impassive face.

Out the door. Into the night.

The cold air hit her like a slap, but she welcomed it. She needed it to cool the fire raging in her chest.

She reached her car, ripped the door open, and threw herself into the driver’s seat.

Her hands gripped the steering wheel, shaking.

’Bitch.’

’Selfish, manipulative, narcissistic bitch.’

She’d actually thought... for one stupid, weak moment... that maybe her mother cared. That maybe Vivienne had some grand plan to protect her.

But no.

Vivienne Vanderbilt cared about one thing: power.

And Jennifer was just an obstacle to be removed.

She jammed the key into the ignition and twisted.

The engine roared to life.

She threw the car into drive and peeled out of the driveway, gravel spraying beneath her tires.

She made it maybe a hundred meters down the winding estate road before her foot slammed on the brake.

The Porsche skidded to a stop, the sudden deceleration throwing her forward against the seatbelt.

She sat there, breathing hard, staring at the dark road ahead.

’What am I doing?’

Going home. Back to the city. Back to Cassandra and Reginald.

And then what?

Tomorrow night, the deadline would expire. Richard would demand his answer. And Cassandra would look at Jennifer with those sympathetic eyes and say, ”I’m so sorry, darling. But we have no choice.”

And Jennifer would be delivered.

Gift-wrapped.

Handed over to a man who saw her as livestock.

Her mother would get exactly what she wanted... Jennifer gone, eliminated, no longer a threat.

The Vanderbilt empire would remain under Vivienne’s iron grip.

And Jennifer’s entire future... her career, her ambitions, her life... would be reduced to nothing more than a transaction.

A sacrifice on the altar of her mother’s greed.

”No,” Jennifer whispered to the empty car.

Her hands tightened on the wheel.

”No. No. NO.”

She wasn’t going to let this happen.

She wasn’t going to be her mother’s pawn.

She wasn’t going to...

Headlights.

Bright. Sudden. Sweeping past her car from behind.

Jennifer’s head snapped up, her eyes tracking the vehicle in her rearview mirror.

A black sedan. Sleek. Expensive. Moving with quiet confidence back toward the villas.

She watched, her breath held, as it passed her completely and continued up the road.

Straight toward Villa Six.

The car pulled into the driveway and stopped.

Engine cut.

Silence.

Then the door opened.

A man stepped out.

Even from this distance, even in the dark, Jennifer could see his silhouette.

Young. Tall. Moving with the kind of easy confidence that came from never having been denied anything.

He didn’t hesitate. Didn’t look around. Didn’t ring the bell.

He walked straight to the door, and it opened before he even reached it.

Helena, backlit, welcoming him inside with a smile.

The door closed.

Jennifer sat frozen in her car, staring at the villa.

At the warm glow of candlelight visible through the windows.

At the roses. The champagne. The black silk sheets.

’This is what she was waiting for.’

’This is who she prepared that room for.’

Not some business associate. Not some political ally.

A toy.

Some pretty young thing to make her feel powerful. Desired. Relevant.

While Jennifer’s entire future burned.

A sound tore from Jennifer’s throat... raw, guttural, inhuman.

It was rage distilled to its purest form.

Her mother was in there right now, opening champagne with some boy half her age, celebrating her victory, while Jennifer sat out here in the dark contemplating which cage she’d be locked in for the rest of her life.

No.

Jennifer’s hands moved before her conscious mind could catch up.

She threw the car into reverse, spun it around, and drove back up the road.

Back to Villa Six.

She wasn’t going home.

Not yet.

If her mother wanted to ruin Jennifer’s future, then Jennifer was going to ruin her night.

She parked the Porsche directly behind the black sedan... blocking it in... and killed the engine.

She stepped out into the cold, her heels crunching on gravel, her jaw set.

She was going back inside that villa.

And she was going to tear her mother’s little fantasy apart.

Piece. By. Piece.