Mitchelle’s POV:
My grip on the glass tightened. Mirabelle. Of course this was about her. It has to be about her.
“Get to the point,” I said impatiently. “What exactly are you proposing?”
Natasha leaned forward, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I want Noah back. And I can’t do that with Mirabelle playing the perfect wife. But you-” she paused, eyeing me carefully “-you seem to have your own issues with Mirabelle. And don’t try to deny it. I can see it in your eyes.”
How the hell did she know about my issues with Estella?
“Sounds like you’ve done a research on me, which means you must know that Mirabelle is my sister. So what makes you think that I would want to engage in such conversations with you.” I countered.
“Stepsister.” She corrected me. “And yes I did a research and I discovered that you stole her husband, which also means that you don’t really have a relationship with her.” She clapped back.
She wasn’t wrong. The anger, the resentment towards her, it had been building for years, and it was only getting worse. But I don’t trust Natasha. Not one bit.
“So, you want us to team up?” I asked skeptically. “To do what, exactly?”
“I think you already know,” Natasha said, smiling. “You want Ken, don’t you? I know that he wants her back. And I can make that stop. In return, you help me make sure Noah and Mirabelle’s marriage falls apart. It’s that simple.” The anger flared inside me.
Ken had been mine for years-my prize, my man, my proof that I was better than Estella.
But now, now I saw him slipping away from my fingers, looking back at her with that stupid, longing gaze.
My voice was cold when I spoke. “And what’s in it for you? How do I know you’ll actually help me?”
Natasha’s smile widened. “Because I don’t have time for games. I’m not asking for your trust; I’m offering you a way to get what you want. I need Noah, and you need to make sure Ken stays where he belongs-with you.”
I wanted to scream at her, to tell her that I didn’t need her help. But the truth was, I did.
I was losing my grip on Ken, and the thought of him leaving me, of him crawling back to her, it was fucking unbearable.
“Fine,” I said finally. “But if you double-cross me, I’ll make you regret it, Natasha,”
Natasha’s laugh was soft and condescending, like she was in on some joke I didn’t understand. “Oh, Mitchelle, you don’t scare me. We’re in this together now.”
We toasted to that-an uneasy clinking of glasses, an agreement built on bitterness and jealousy. We were both willing to drag Mirabelle down if it meant we could win, whatever that meant for each of us.
As we settled back, Natasha began to reveal her plan. She wanted to play on Noah and Mirabelle’s weak spots, to drive them apart until their marriage was nothing but a wrecking ball. Meanwhile, I would handle Ken.
“We have to keep Mirabelle distracted,” Natasha said. “Make her doubt herself, make her question her worth. We can’t have her feeling secure. If she’s constantly on edge, she’ll make mistakes.” I nodded.
“And what if it doesn’t work?” I asked.
Natasha’s smile was icy. “Then we make sure it does. I’m not playing for a maybe, Mitchelle. I’m playing to win.”Just before we finished, Natasha’s tone softened-almost genuinely, if I didn’t know better.
“You know, Mitchelle,” she said, swirling the last of her wine, “There was a time I thought I’d be the one in Mirabelle’s shoes. Noah and I… we almost had something. But things didn’t go as planned, and now that I am back, I’m not going to let her keep it.”
I didn’t want to feel sympathy, but for a moment, I did. Maybe because, in a way, I understood. Mirabelle had taken something from me too-Ken’s heart. “Well,” I said quietly, “She won’t get to keep it much longer.”
Natasha’s eyes glittered with satisfaction. “That’s the spirit.” Suddenly it hit me.
Shaking my head. “Hold on!” I began. “If Estella’s marriage falls apart what’s the tendency that she won’t come running to Ken and they eventually get back together.” I asked.
“Well…” Why don’t we get rid of her then. That is after we are done with her.” She suggested and I nodded my head almost immediately.
By the time I got home, it was pretty late. I shut the front door harder than I meant to, letting the heavy thud announce my arrival.
It was late, and I was tired. All I wanted was to pour myself a glass of wine, take a hot shower, and forget about the whole night. But as soon as I stepped into the living room, I saw Ken sitting on the couch.
He had a drink in hand, but it looked untouched-rare for him. I could tell he’d been waiting.
“Where the hell have you been?” he demanded, standing up quickly. His sudden movement startled me, but I quickly masked it with a roll of my eyes.
“Out,” I replied coldly, shrugging off my coat and draping it over a chair. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
“Don’t play games with me, Mitchelle,” He scowled. “It’s late, and you’ve been gone for hours. I called you-twice.”I raised an eyebrow.
“And? I didn’t feel like answering. “I have a right to go out whenever I want, just like you do.” Ken’s jaw tightened, and I saw his knuckles whiten as he clenched the glass.
“Don’t turn this around on me.” He snapped. “I want to know where you were, Mitchelle. I’m not in the mood for your attitude.”
I crossed my arms, meeting his gaze. “You’re not in the mood for my attitude? Well, too bad. I’m not in the mood for your possessiveness. You disappear for hours, days even, without telling me where you are, and I’m supposed to explain my every move to you? Not a chance.” I scoffed.