The second Elsie stepped through the door, Rachel was on her, worry pinching her face.

“Elsie, where on earth have you been? You didn’t come home all night.”

“Mom... I got married.” Elsie couldn’t keep something that huge to herself.

Rachel froze. “Married? To who?”

Elsie handed her the marriage certificate.

Rachel read the name and went still all over again. “Kingsley Reynolds? You married Kingsley Reynolds? How in the world did that happen?”

Elsie told her everything—about the night before.

“Elsie.” Rachel’s voice cracked, caught somewhere between hurt and disbelief. “How could you do this?”

It hurt Rachel more than anything.

Tears welled in Elsie’s eyes. “Mom, I didn’t have a choice. I need to clear Dad’s name, take back what’s ours, and make sure people like Liana Roberts get what they deserve.”

Rachel pulled her daughter into her arms.

Elsie tried to keep it together. “Mom, it’ll be okay. Kingsley isn’t as ruthless as people make him out to be. I mean, he married me, didn’t he? He said you could come live with me, and he even offered me a job at J.C. International.”

“Really?” Rachel wiped at her tears.

Elsie nodded, jaw set. “Yes. Let’s pack and go. Right now.”

There wasn’t much to pack—just a few changes of clothes and a handful of personal things.

Once everything was ready, Elsie took Rachel to Kingsley’s estate in the suburbs.

“Miss Gomez, welcome. Mr. Reynolds told us you’d be coming. Please, come in.”

The butler greeted them warmly.

Seeing how thoughtfully Kingsley had arranged things, Rachel relaxed a little.

The butler led them into the living room. “Miss Gomez, Mrs. Simpson, your rooms are on the second floor, to the left.”

“Thank you.”

“If you need anything at all, please let us know.”

Elsie nodded and helped Rachel up to their rooms.

Both rooms were guest rooms. That didn’t surprise Elsie.

Given how impulsive the marriage had been, she and Kingsley weren’t some traditional couple. Sharing a room? Out of the question.

“Elsie,” Rachel said, watching her daughter with worry.

Elsie gave her a reassuring smile. “Mom, it’s fine. I just need his name—his status—to get what I want.”

Rachel sighed and swallowed the questions rising in her throat. She knew they would only weigh Elsie down more.

“Mom, get some rest. I’m going to take a walk, and I’ll come get you for dinner.”

She wanted to get familiar with the place fast.

“Okay.”

Once Rachel was settled, Elsie went downstairs.

She asked the butler to gather all the staff. She wanted to introduce herself to everyone.

She also explored the sprawling estate.

By dinner, Kingsley still hadn’t returned. Elsie ate with Rachel, then helped her to bed.

When she left her mother’s room, she ran into Kingsley on the staircase.

“You’re back.”

Kingsley was still getting used to having someone else in his home. “Yes.”

“Have you eaten? Want me to have the kitchen make you something?” Elsie offered.

She might have pushed him into marrying her, but she planned to play the part of his wife—at least on the surface. The rest would come with time.

Unused to anyone paying him that kind of attention, Kingsley’s heart skipped a beat. His gaze caught on Elsie, and the memories from the night before came rushing back. He masked it with a hard expression. “No. That won’t be necessary.”

“Then I’ll run you a bath,” Elsie said, already heading for the master bedroom before he could answer.

She’d asked the butler earlier which room was his, but she hadn’t stepped inside until now.

The room was huge, done in monochrome tones—simple but refined, with an air of cool detachment.

In the bathroom, she started the water.

While she waited, she noticed a bathrobe on the shelf and stared at it for a long moment.

The moment Elsie left, Kingsley walked into the bathroom. The tub was full, bath salts added, scented candles lit.

He undressed and let the heat soak the day’s tension out of him.

“Um... can I come in? I swapped your bathrobe for a clean one,” Elsie’s voice came from outside the door.

Kingsley’s gaze snapped to the door.

Before he could answer, Elsie peeked in—and got an eyeful of a very naked Kingsley.

Startled, she slipped, crashed into him, and sent them both tumbling into the tub.

Her loose nightdress soaked through instantly, clinging to her skin in a way that was anything but innocent.

The tub was way too small for two people.

Elsie ended up pressed against him, her hand braced on his chest. She felt exactly how their closeness was affecting him.

“I’m sorry—it wasn’t on purpose.” The apology came quick, but every shift of her body only made things worse.

Kingsley felt heat surge through him, a sharp, growing ache.

“Not on purpose?” He grabbed her and flipped them, so he was above her. “So it was deliberate, then?”

Elsie couldn’t meet his eyes.

“Trying to seduce me?” His eyes burned with anger, his grip tight around her wrist.

It was a seduction. But she denied it anyway. “No.”

“No?” His gaze turned cold, razor-sharp. “My robes are swapped out daily. Why would it be dirty? You used the bathrobe as an excuse to come in. You spilled the bath gel on purpose. Then—oh, how convenient—you fell right onto me. Every bit of it was calculated.”

She looked sweet and innocent, but she was clearly no amateur.

Elsie hadn’t expected him to see through her so easily.

“If you knew,” she said, finding her nerve, “why didn’t you stop me? You wanted this too.”

She leaned in close, arms looping around his neck, and whispered, “You want me, too. Don’t you?”

To keep Kingsley’s interest, she’d taken special classes—prepared for every possibility so she could execute her revenge.

Kingsley shoved her back hard. Her head hit the side of the tub.

“Liana claims your father assaulted her. With Fabian’s help, she took over your family’s company. You’re using me to clear your father’s name, oust Liana, and maybe punish Fabian.”

The hit left Elsie dazed.

She’d already realized hiding her motives from Kingsley was pointless. That was why she’d been upfront from the start.

“You don’t really think that just because you got into my bed, I’ll be so captivated I’ll help you get revenge, do you?”

Elsie dropped her gaze, but her voice stayed steady—even as she spoke such provocative words. "Looks like your body's betraying you, Kingsley."

It was the first time Kingsley had ever felt himself losing control like this around a woman.

He caught her wrists, pinned them above her head, and pulled her close until their bodies pressed flush together. "A physical reaction is just a reflex. Nothing more."

In that moment, Elsie felt her anxiety melt away. "They say you're practically an ascetic—untouched by temptation. And yet here you are, reacting to me."

"All right, then. Since you seem to want this, I'll play along," Kingsley said.

He lifted Elsie out of the tub, carried her out of the bathroom, and tossed her onto the bed.

She was right. For the first time, his reaction to a woman was undeniable. He'd assumed it was just the aftereffect of the drug from the night before. But today? There was no mistaking what his body was doing.

Especially with Elsie's alluring figure right in front of him, his blood seemed to race through his veins.

He kissed her lips, her neck, leaving a trail of heat along her skin.

"Hold up," Elsie said, stopping him at the last second. "We're missing something. You wouldn't want an accidental baby, would you?"

To Kingsley, she was a cunning woman. Why would he ever want to start a family with her?

Sure enough, her words snuffed out his passion like a bucket of ice water.

Elsie sat up, leaned in close to his ear, and whispered, "Why not save this for another time?"

Her teasing words drew a fresh reaction from Kingsley, but Elsie was already out the door.

Her mentor had taught her well: keep a man wanting, never fully satisfied. Keep him craving, and you'll keep him close.

Kingsley's frustration was palpable as he finally gave in to the urge for a cold shower to cool down.

People often said he was stoic, seemingly untouched by emotion. But with Elsie—that mix of innocence and cunning—he couldn't keep his composure. There were moments he wanted nothing more than to grab her and shake some sense into her.

Back in her room, Elsie changed into fresh clothes and studied the marks on her neck in the mirror. A pang of guilt hit her for using such tactics, but the memory of her father's agonizing final moments fueled her determination—grief and fierce resolve tangled together.

The next morning, Elsie came downstairs in a high-neck blouse and casual pants, her hair pulled back—simple and practical.

The high neck hid the marks from the night before. She wasn't hiding them, exactly; she just didn't want to worry her mom.

Kingsley sat at the table with Rachel, eating breakfast in quiet contemplation. Rachel, older but still wary of Kingsley's presence, found it hard to relax.

"Good morning, Mom." Rachel's eyes lit up at Elsie's greeting, her smile warm. "Morning, Elsie. Join us for breakfast."

Elsie nodded, sat next to Rachel, and glanced across the table at Kingsley. "Good morning, Mr. Reynolds."

Kingsley ignored her, keeping up his indifference, but Elsie seemed unfazed.

Rachel noticed the exchange, her heart tugging with sympathy for her daughter.

After breakfast, Kingsley left for work without another word.

Elsie gave Rachel a few instructions before heading to J.C. International.

She hailed a cab, and it arrived promptly.

When she reached the office, she was about to contact Kingsley, but found his assistant, Jaxton, waiting for her at reception.

"Miss Gomez, Mr. Reynolds assigned me to guide you through orientation."

Elsie nodded, smiling politely. "Thank you, Mr. Schmidt."

Wasn't the Gomez heiress supposed to be unruly and arrogant? Jaxton wondered, noting her unexpectedly courteous demeanor.

He walked her through the formalities, introduced her to the company, and showed her around the executive floor so she could get familiar with operations.

Jaxton assumed she'd need time to grasp the complexities of the business, given the rumors about her incompetence. To his surprise, she had it all down within two hours.

"Miss Gomez, if you need anything, just ask."

"Thank you," Elsie replied, nodding slightly.

She could sense Jaxton's curiosity, probably fueled by the rumors Liana had spread—stories that painted Elsie as talentless and bad-tempered, built on selectively edited footage of her defending Liana.

But without the original footage, Elsie had no way to clear her name. Her family had treated Liana with kindness, only to realize they'd been nurturing a traitor.

Thinking of Liana's betrayal reignited something fierce inside Elsie.

"Miss Gomez, here's this quarter's report and the budget for a new project. They need reviewing before Mr. Reynolds signs off," the head secretary said, handing her the papers.

"Understood," Elsie said, bracing herself for the demanding tasks Kingsley had set for her—a test meant to intimidate her.

The head secretary watched her calmly accept the challenge, noting Elsie's quiet determination. Following orders, she kept her distance.

Elsie started cross-checking the numbers. She quickly spotted discrepancies among the figures and realized she'd need to verify the entire spreadsheet to correct them. Pulling data from a quarterly report isn't easy, especially since reports like this rarely contain errors. She knew this wasn't an accident. It was deliberate.

Once the data was sorted, Elsie took the documents and knocked on the CEO's office door.

Jaxton opened it, surprise flickering across his face when he saw her.

"I have documents for Mr. Reynolds to sign," Elsie said.

Jaxton stepped aside.

Elsie walked to Kingsley's desk and set the papers in front of him. "Mr. Reynolds, here are the quarter's report and the new project's budget. They need your signature."

In work mode, Elsie seemed transformed—efficient, focused.

Kingsley glanced at her and took the documents.

When he noticed her corrections, a flicker of admiration crossed his deep-set eyes.

"Mr. Reynolds, there were errors in these reports. I made the necessary adjustments."

One error could have been accidental, but the second—the budget sheet—was deliberate. The total budget still looked fine, yet the decimal points were off, a detail easy to miss without a careful eye.

"All right," Kingsley replied, signing the papers.

"Uncle!" A familiar voice called from the doorway.

Elsie's body went tense instantly.

Kingsley instinctively glanced at her, sensing the shift.

Fabian Cooper...

Elsie clenched her fists, her nails biting into her palms.

Elsie's mind was a storm of memories—Fabian Cooper conspiring with Liana Roberts to drive her father to despair, to his tragic fall, and then forcing her and her mother out of their home. Fabian's arrogant, ruthless nature was burned into her very soul.

Her clenched fists betrayed the turmoil inside her. Her nails dug into her palms, yet she felt nothing.

"Uncle, I need to—" Fabian's voice faltered when he spotted Elsie. "Elsie? What are you doing here?"

The cold anger wrapped around Elsie melted away. Her face turned innocent, untouched by any hint of malice. Her presence made Fabian uneasy.

"So you know Miss Gomez, Fabian?" Kingsley's voice cut into Fabian's thoughts.

No. He couldn't let his uncle uncover his dealings with Liana.

"Of course I know her. She's the Gomez heiress, isn't she? Uncle, you may not keep up with society gossip, but she's notorious. Word is she's arrogant, self-centered, thinks she's above everyone else, and she's about as cunning as they come."

Kingsley nodded, as if agreeing with that last part. Elsie didn't so much as flinch. She knew those labels had been crafted by Fabian and Liana.

"What are you doing here?" Fabian demanded.

Elsie's lips curved into a faint smile. "I'm Mr. Reynolds's personal assistant now."

"What?" Fabian's disbelief was almost comical. "Uncle, is this true? How could you let a manipulative woman like her be your assistant?"

"Are you questioning my judgment?" Kingsley's tone went ice-cold. Fabian's mouth snapped shut.

"Fabian, you said you only knew of her. So why do you sound so familiar with her?" Kingsley pressed.

"I—" Fabian stammered, scrambling for words.

Elsie glanced at Kingsley. She knew he wasn't defending her. Kingsley had always played by his own rules. Even when he was wrong, he'd never admit it—especially not to someone beneath him. He was just reminding Fabian who held the power.

"What did you come to see me about?" Kingsley asked.

"I—" Fabian hesitated, his gaze sliding to Elsie.

Taking the hint, Elsie cut in. "Mr. Reynolds, I'll step out now."

She left, closing the door softly behind her.

...

Fabian was waiting for Elsie when she came out of the restroom. She'd expected this. Almost wanted it.

"Elsie, why are you cozying up to my uncle? What's your angle?" Fabian demanded, anger sharpening every word.

Elsie smiled sweetly, light and breezy as a spring morning. "Obviously, to get back at you."

The word revenge rolled off her tongue as casually as if she were discussing dinner plans. It caught Fabian off guard, though he recovered quickly.

With a derisive snort, he retorted, "Cozying up to my uncle to get back at me? Have you lost your mind? He's my uncle. What do you think you'll gain from that?"

His words only widened Elsie's smile. Slowly, she undid the top button of her shirt.

"Elsie, what are you doing? Trying to set me up? There are cameras here," Fabian warned, suspicion creeping into his voice.

Elsie calmly angled her neck, revealing the love bites there. "See these? Your uncle left them yesterday."

Fabian's eyes went wide.

Impossible.

"Who would've guessed?" Elsie chuckled, sarcasm dripping from every word. "Your uncle may seem passive, but behind closed doors? He's anything but."

In that moment, there was nothing innocent about her. Her face and her spirit seemed like two different people—as if something else had taken hold of her.

"Shut up," Fabian snapped, his anger spiking.

"Want me to show you the video? Think you can handle watching it?" Elsie taunted, stepping closer.

Fabian instinctively stepped back, as if her presence alone was suffocating him.

"And a word of advice—disrespect your elders, and trouble has a way of finding you."

With that, Elsie walked away.

"Elsie, what do you mean? Explain yourself!" Fabian's furious voice echoed behind her. She didn't bother looking back.

She wanted to provoke him. Anger made people reckless—made them sloppy. That was exactly what she needed.

Still, she wondered why Fabian had come to J.C. International today. He'd grown up under the Reynolds family's roof, always trailing after Kingsley, yet he'd never been trusted with any real responsibility at the company. Not even a junior position. His own small business was floundering, and it had recently merged with the Gomez Group, which he now co-managed with Liana.

So his visit today probably wasn't just about seeing Kingsley.

"Come in."

The deep voice cut through Elsie's thoughts. Only then did she realize she'd been standing at the elevator for who knew how long.

"Come in. I won't say it again," Kingsley's voice commanded.

Elsie turned toward the private elevator and stepped inside. When the boss called, you answered.

As the doors slid shut, Kingsley moved closer. In the cramped space, there was nowhere to retreat—not that Elsie wanted to.

"Are you in such a hurry, darling?" Elsie teased, placing a hand on Kingsley's shoulder and leaning in. Her smile was playful, flirtatious.

Kingsley caught her hand in a tight grip and pressed her back against the elevator wall. "I seem incapable, do I?"

Elsie wasn't surprised he knew about that. A company his size? There were cameras everywhere. Letting her into J.C. International was probably just his way of keeping a close eye on her.

"I said it seems that way. I never said you were incapable."

He couldn't argue with that.

Kingsley leaned in closer. "Have you forgotten our agreement?"

"I only said we've been together. I never said we got hitched. So technically, I haven't broken any promises." Her expression was innocent, though she avoided meeting his gaze directly. Kingsley's presence was overwhelming, and truth be told, he intimidated her. But her hunger for revenge burned hotter than any fear.

"Darling..." Elsie's voice softened to almost a whisper, laced with a seductive charm that caught Kingsley off guard for half a second. In that split second, Elsie leaned in and captured his lips with hers.