Chapter 3The Silk Trap

Alan’s grand announcement that Mariela was his daughter did little more than create some fleeting gossip. No one in our circle acknowledged her.

Thanks to Benson’s unyielding authority in the house, Mariela was relegated to the staff quarters. Frustrated, she took to bothering me at the memorial hall every single day.

On the forty-ninth day, I decided I’d had enough of her buzzing. I let her in.

She put on a mask of practiced sympathy. “Willow, I know you’re grieving, but it’s been forty-nine days. Your mother is gone. You need to move on. Come out, I want to talk to you.”

Her foolishness was so transparent it was almost painful to watch. This was the illegitimate child Alan cherished so deeply?

I walked past her, out of the hall. Mariela scrambled to follow.

By the edge of the pool, I stopped and turned, standing on the top step of the patio, looking down at her. “Speak.”

Mariela nervously clutched the hem of her dress, then stepped up onto the stair to meet my gaze.

“Willow, Daddy only ever loved my mother. Now that he’s brought me into this house, it’s to replace you as the Sterling heiress. You’ve had the title for twenty-three years. You should be satisfied. Now, be a good girl and tell the butler and the staff to acknowledge me. Don't make a scene, understand?”

I laughed.

Did she truly not know that Alan Pierce was nothing more than a man who’d married into money? That he’d taken my mother’s name? And with that pathetic level of awareness, she thought she could usurp my position?

The reality of her incompetence was so profound, it was just… boring.

I couldn’t be bothered to entertain her any longer. I shoved her.

Splash!

Mariela flailed in the water, a storm of shrieks and clumsy struggles.

“Willow, how dare you! Daddy will make you pay for this! Pull me up… ugh! Pull me up right now, and I… I might just forgive you!”

I walked away without a backward glance.

While waiting at a red light, I made a quick international call, then continued on my way to find Aidan.

He hadn’t contacted me in forty-nine days.

It was time for him to die.