Chapter 13 An Unromantic Moment

• When the gates of William Jones' mansion opened, a chill ran down my spine that had nothing to do with the night breeze. The house was a monument to wealth, so grand and opulent that it seemed almost ridiculous. Tall columns, gleaming marble, golden details that reflected the light from the chandeliers as if trying to blind anyone who dared to enter. I looked at it all with a mix of disdain and fascination.
• William stood by my side, his confident smile and piercing gaze reminding me that he wasn’t as naive as I wanted to believe. He guided me through the entrance, his hand firm on mine, as if he knew exactly what he was doing. There was a gentleness in him, as if he could break me, but also a determination I couldn’t ignore. He wasn’t a pawn; he was a player, and that intrigued me more than I cared to admit.
• As soon as we stepped inside, he pulled me close, his eyes gleaming with a mix of desire and something deeper, something I wasn’t willing to decipher. The kiss was inevitable, but it wasn’t just about passion. It was a power play, a dance where both of us knew the steps, even if for different reasons. I let myself go, responding with an intensity he interpreted as reciprocation, but which, in truth, was fuel for my revenge. Every touch, every sigh, was a step toward my goal.