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

Helena stared at Vivienne, her tablet forgotten in her hands, her mouth opening and closing without sound.

“What?” she finally managed. “What are you talking about?”

Vivienne reclined on the lounger, swirling the last of her rosé with the kind of casual elegance that made the confession she’d just delivered seem almost reasonable.

“It’s quite simple, really,” she said, as if discussing weather rather than identity theft. “When I visited his villa this morning, I introduced myself as you. Helena Vanderbilt. My loyal cousin and assistant.”

Helena’s tablet slipped from her fingers, clattering against the stone poolside.

“You told him you were me?”

“I did.”

“But… why would you…” Helena bent to retrieve the tablet, her movements jerky, uncoordinated. “I don’t understand. Why not just introduce yourself as Vivienne? That was the entire point, wasn’t it? To meet him yourself?”

Vivienne’s smile faltered for just a heartbeat.

She looked away, fingers tightening almost imperceptibly around the stem of her wine glass.

“Because…” She paused, and when she continued, her voice carried the faintest edge of something she rarely allowed anyone to hear. “Because I panicked.”

She took a breath, forcing the words out with deliberate casualness.

“He opened the door looking like some kind of Greek sculpture come to life, all bare chest and morning sunlight, and my brain simply… stopped working.”

A flush crept up her neck… subtle, barely there, but visible.

“When he asked my name, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind.”

She gestured toward Helena, recovering her poise with visible effort.

“Which happened to be yours.”

For a moment, silence stretched between them.

Then Helena laughed.

It started as a small sound… barely more than a breath… but it grew rapidly, building into something genuine and uncontrolled. She pressed a hand to her mouth, trying to contain it, but it spilled out anyway, bright and helpless.

“You panicked?” Helena gasped between laughs, her professional composure crumbling completely. “You… The Vivienne Vanderbilt… the woman who silences entire boardrooms with a single glance, who makes executives tremble before they even sit down… panicked because a guy opened the door shirtless?”

She doubled over slightly, shoulders shaking.

Vivienne’s color deepened, spreading from her neck to her cheeks.

“Oh, come on,” she said, waving a hand dismissively. “It wasn’t that bad.”

But even as she said it, her voice lacked conviction.

Helena wiped at her eyes, trying and failing to compose herself.

“I’m sorry,” she managed between gasps, though her grin suggested otherwise. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh, but… ” Another wave of laughter broke through. “It’s just hilarious.”

Vivienne opened her mouth to retort, then closed it again.

Because what could she say?

Helena was right.

She had panicked. Completely and utterly.

It was absurd.

Humiliating, even.

And yet…

She looked at Helena… still laughing, still grinning with unrestrained delight… and something shifted in her perspective.

If it had been anyone else in her position, they would have been worse.

They would have stammered more. Fumbled harder. Likely turned and fled without even getting through the door.

At least she’d managed to stay. To talk to him. To turn her moment of panic into something that resembled a plan. At least she hadn’t collapsed into a blushing puddle and humiliated herself completely.

The thought steadied her, and when she looked at Helena again, her embarrassment had cooled into something closer to amusement.

“Are you quite finished?” she asked dryly.

Helena took a shaky breath, finally getting herself under control.

“For now,” she said, still grinning. “But I’m definitely going to remember this forever.”

Vivienne rolled her eyes, but there was no real irritation in it.

“Yes, well. Enjoy your moment of superiority while it lasts.” She picked up her wine glass again, recovering her composure with practiced ease. “Because you’re about to experience something far worse.”

Helena’s laughter faded, replaced by sudden wariness.

“What do you mean?”

Vivienne’s smile returned… sharp, wicked, utterly merciless.

“I’ve already invited him to dinner. Tonight. Here at Villa Six.”

She paused, letting that sink in.

“And you, my darling, are going to be the one sitting across from him.” Another pause, heavier this time. “Pretending to be me.”

She leaned forward slightly, eyes gleaming.

“Let’s see how well you handle those dark eyes when they’re focused entirely on you.”

Helena’s face cycled through several expressions… shock, confusion, horror… before settling on something that looked dangerously close to panic.

“Vivienne, you can’t be serious. You want me to… what? Pretend to be you?”

“Exactly.”

“That’s insane!”

“That’s fun,” Vivienne corrected, sitting up now, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

She paused, letting that sink in.

“Don’t worry,” Vivienne took a leisurely sip of wine, utterly unbothered by Helena’s growing distress. “I’ll be there as Helena, of course. Playing my own assistant. Introducing you as my powerful, intimidating boss.”

But even as she spoke, her thoughts drifted elsewhere.

Back to the terrace. To his hands on her waist… strong, certain, possessive. To the way he’d pulled her against him, the hard planes of his body pressing into hers. To that kiss…

God, that kiss.

She could still feel it. The heat of his mouth. The taste of him. The way he’d claimed her lips like he had every right to them.

Her hand rose unconsciously, fingertips brushing across her own mouth, as if she could recapture the sensation through touch alone.

Helena, who had been watching her closely, went very still.

Her eyes widened.

An impossible thought formed in her mind… too absurd to be real, yet the evidence was right there in front of her.

“Don’t tell me…” Helena’s voice came out barely above a whisper. “You kissed him?”

Vivienne’s hand froze against her lips.

For a heartbeat, she considered denying it. Brushing it off. Maintaining some semblance of professional distance.

Then she lowered her hand slowly, a different thought crystallizing.

’Why hide it?’

If she couldn’t be honest with Helena, who could she be honest with?

“Oh, we did more than just kiss.” Vivienne’s smile turned absolutely feline, satisfaction curling through every word. “Much more.”

Helena’s grip on the tablet tightened, knuckles going white.

“What… what does that mean?”

“It means,” Vivienne said, leaning back with luxurious ease, “that I let him touch me. Kiss me. Hold me against that terrace railing while I melted in his arms like some desperate teenager.”

She paused, savoring the memory.

“And then I promised him something.”

“Promised him what?” Helena’s voice had gone faint.

Vivienne’s eyes gleamed with dark amusement.

“I promised to help him seduce the mother of Jennifer Vanderbilt.” She let that settle for just a moment. “My boss. You. The woman I’m supposedly assisting.”

Helena’s breath caught audibly.

“I told him,” Vivienne continued, her smile widening, “that together, we could give him his revenge on Jennifer. By making her watch her own mother fall for the man she tried to destroy.”

The tablet slipped from Helena’s trembling hands, hitting the stone with a sharp crack.

“What?” Her voice climbed higher. “Vivienne, this is… this is a terrible idea.”

“It’s a brilliant idea.” Vivienne’s laughter rang out across the courtyard… rich, delighted, utterly unrepentant. “Don’t you see? He thinks he’s using me for revenge. I’m using him for entertainment. And poor Jennifer gets humiliated in the process.”

She picked up her wine glass, draining the last of it.

“Everyone wins. Well… everyone except Jennifer.”

She leaned forward, her gaze sharp and persuasive.

“All you have to do is maintain the performance. Be me. Act like me. It’s not complicated.”

Helena was shaking her head, her professional composure crumbling at the edges.

“Vivienne, I can’t… I don’t know how to… what if something goes wrong? What if he asks me something I don’t know? What if I make a mistake and he realizes… ”

“You won’t,” Vivienne interrupted smoothly, moving closer. “Because you don’t have to say much of anything. I’ll do most of the talking. You’ll simply be present. Polite. Professional. The consummate assistant.”

She placed a hand on Helena’s shoulder, her touch firm and reassuring.

“Just act like me, Helena. You’ve been watching me for twelve years. You know how I move, how I speak, how I hold a room. Channel that. Become that.”

Helena looked up at her, eyes wide with uncertainty.

“And if I can’t?”

Vivienne’s smile gentled.

“You can. And I promise…” Her voice dropped to something almost conspiratorial. “You’re going to enjoy it.”

Helena swallowed hard, her grip tightening on the tablet like it was the only solid thing in a world that had suddenly tilted sideways.

“This is madness,” she whispered.

“The best things always are,” Vivienne replied, her eyes dancing with anticipation.

She straightened, her decision clearly made, her confidence absolute.

“Now. Let’s get you ready. We have four hours until dinner, and I need to teach you how to be me.”