Chapter 4

Preston's head snapped back and forth between Clora and the dark figure upstairs. His chest heaved, and his voice cracked as he pointed a shaking finger at her.

"You... you set me up?" he sputtered. "You told Mila you wanted to see me! You wanted me to get caught!"

Clora ignored him. She kept her eyes locked on the window above, her smile widening just a fraction. She could practically hear the gears turning in Essex's head. Was this a trap for Preston? A declaration of war? Or something else entirely?

She turned back to Preston, dropping the smile. She looked at him the way one might look at a bug crawling across a dinner plate.

"Preston Vaughn," she said, her voice clear and sharp in the quiet night. "Did you really think I was still that stupid little girl who would fall for your crap?"

Preston flushed red, a mix of anger and embarrassment. "I don't know what game you're playing, but I came here to help you! You're acting like a crazy person!"

"Help me?" Clora let out a short, bitter laugh. "Help me with what, Preston? With your family's bankrupt shipping business? Or are you trying to salvage the bruised ego you got when Essex threw you out of the engagement party?"

Every word hit its mark. Preston's jaw clenched, and he took a step toward her, his hands balling into fists. "You ungrateful bitch. I'm offering you a way out of hell, and you're throwing it back in my face?"

Upstairs, Essex shifted his weight. The tiny movement seemed to release a wave of pressure into the garden. The air grew heavier, thick with the promise of violence. But he didn't move to intervene. He just watched.

Clora took a step toward Preston, closing the distance between them. She didn't flinch. She looked him dead in the eye, her gaze icy.

"Hell?" she scoffed. "At least the devil is honest about what he is. Essex doesn't hide what he wants. His power, his wealth, his control-it's all right there in the open."

She reached out and poked Preston hard in the chest, right over his heart. "But you? You're a thief hiding behind a white knight costume. You're broke, Preston. Your family is drowning in debt, and you thought you could parade me around like a trophy to get the Langley name off your back."

Preston looked like he had been slapped. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

Clora dropped her hand, her voice dropping to a deadly whisper. She slowly shifted her gaze from Preston's face back up to the second-floor window, making sure Essex heard every word.

"Besides," she said, her tone shifting, becoming almost... intimate. "You couldn't even tie Essex Langley's shoes, let alone compare to him."

The words hung in the air. Preston stared at her, his mouth hanging open in shock.

Clora took a breath and let the lie flow smoothly from her lips. "His taste, his power, this entire estate... even the way he punishes me, it's more real than your pathetic little 'love' ever was. At least when he hurts me, I know I'm alive. At least he's a man worth fighting."

She was laying it on thick, practically serving it on a silver platter. It was outrageous. It was insane. It was exactly what a twisted mind like Essex's would want to hear.

Upstairs, Essex's shadow shifted again. The cigar glow paused halfway to his mouth. He was listening. He was interested.

Preston, on the other hand, looked like he was going to be sick. "You're insane," he whispered. "You're defending him? He's a monster!"

Clora dropped the act. Her face went blank, her eyes turning to ice. She pointed toward the garden gate.

"Get out, Vaughn," she commanded. "Walk away while you still have legs. Because if I see your face here again, I won't stop him from breaking them."

She threw the threat out like a bone to a dog, giving Essex the power. It was his right to punish the intruder. She was just the messenger.

Preston didn't need to be told twice. The fight completely drained out of him. He shot Clora a look of pure venom, then turned and scrambled through the bushes, his expensive shoes slipping in the mud as he ran for his life.

The garden was quiet again. The crickets slowly started back up.

Clora stood alone in the moonlight. She looked up at the study window. Essex was still there, a dark silhouette against the glass.

Her heart was beating so fast she thought it might burst. She had just gambled her life on a monologue. If he thought she was mocking him, if he thought this was a trick, she was dead.

The shadow at the window moved. Essex turned and disappeared into the room.

Clora's breath caught. The back doors of the manor opened with a heavy click. Heavy footsteps echoed on the stone patio.

Essex Langley stepped out into the garden. The cold night air seemed to wrap around him, making him look even larger, more imposing. His face was in shadow, but his eyes caught the moonlight, burning with an intensity that made Clora's knees weak.

He walked toward her, stopping just a few feet away. The scent of his cigar smoke mixed with the night chill.

Clora forced herself to stand tall. She didn't step back. She didn't cower. She met his gaze head-on, even though every nerve in her body was screaming at her to run.

The real test was just beginning.