Her Perfect Revenge

by Anna Mara

  She may not have been sleeping with Bill when Stephie had met her at the restaurant that day but she definitely was now. And they were going to be married—and that little whore was going to be his wife—Mrs. Havenwood—mistress of this house and his fortune.

  That should have been her!

  Seething with anger, Stephie moved away and quietly disappeared into the house. She stealthily climbed the staircase on her way to Bill's room. She had visited this mansion many times when she'd been seeing Bill and she knew it like the back of her well-manicured hand. After all, she had expected to be his wife one day and in charge of all of this. And it had been taken away from her, by that little tramp.

  Well, she wasn't going to roll over and let the both of them do this to her. Her detectives were still on the case, digging up dirt. They were even now in the process of breaking into the little mouse's apartment to see what they could find there. Drummond Sinclair had also found out that although the wedding was only three weeks away, Bill hadn't yet booked a honeymoon. So, Stephie decided to do it for him. With a wicked grin, she pulled out three airline tickets from her purse.

  Quietly slipping into Bill's bedroom, Stephie opened his night table and placed the tickets inside. She smirked. Now, if she could only get that little bitch Christina by herself for a few moments, her plan would be complete.

  Chapter 45

  When they finished dancing, Bill led Christina into the midst of the party where they mingled with the guests. With his arm glued to her waist, Bill expertly maneuvered her through the high class set—chatting with some, greeting others. These were his people—not Christina's—and he wanted to protect her from their catty, elitist ways. He wanted to make sure that they subconsciously understood that the Havenwood money and power were behind her now—so they had all better accept her or else.

  They were talking to Mrs. Robinson, an influential art patron, when Christina spotted a smiling William walking towards them. And walking beside him were her parents—Nunzio and Gabriella Matteo! Oh God! What were they doing here? Shocked, Christina froze.

  Bill felt her tense up and he instinctively pulled her closer. He turned to look in the direction she was staring and saw his father approaching with two guests.

  William drew near and he had a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. "My dear, look who's here," he said, pointing to her parents.

  "Mom! Pop! What are you doing here?" Christina squeaked out.

  Her father, Nunzio, was wearing a tuxedo and her mom, Gabriella was wearing a beautiful floor-length blue dress. They both looked as if they fit in—except for the angry expressions on their faces.

  Nunzio piped up first, "William invited us. He flew us in and we're staying at the Plaza. What's the matter? You couldn't invite us yourself? Did you think we were going to embarrass you in front of all your new friends?"

  Both Christina and Bill glared at William who, still smiling, nodded in agreement with Nunzio. Yes, he had invited them—to put more pressure on Christina and make sure she did walk down that aisle in three weeks time.

  William reasoned that Christina hadn't invited her parents to her engagement party because on some level, she was still thinking that she'd get out of this mess before she'd have to actually marry his son. So why bother telling her parents anything? Might as well keep them in the dark until the last possible millisecond.

  So, William had taken matters into his own hands and informed them of what was going on. And they looked like a strong couple that would put considerable pressure on their daughter to marry his son—once the ball got rolling. And looking around the party tonight—that ball was definitely rolling. Nunzio and Gabriella Matteo were going to be allies for him in his scheming plot to get these two married off.

  William smiled at his own cunning brilliance. No one was going to outsmart him—and his son and the girl were going to do what he wanted—which was to marry and produce grandbabies for him.

  Gabriella was speaking. "Aren't you going to answer your father?" she demanded of her daughter.

  "I…I…" Christina was speechless. Her parents always had this intimidating effect on her. Suddenly, she felt Bill give her a quick squeeze around her waist and then he was speaking for her.

  "Mr. & Mrs. Matteo, I'm afraid the fault is all mine. Christina told me to make arrangements for your trip here but I forgot. Everything's been so rushed. I am very sorry." He threw his most charming, dazzling smile at them and although Nunzio grunted in disbelief, Gabriella melted under her soon-to-be, handsome son-in-law's gaze.

  Surprised, Christina swiveled unbelieving eyes to Bill's face. Had he just saved her butt by taking the blame? That was decent of him—and nice.

  She hated it when he did anything nice!

  Christina didn't realize it but she unconsciously snuggled deeper into his arm that was still protectively encircling her waist. But Bill sensed it. She was coming to him for help. There was something primal about a man protecting his woman—and he loved it.

  "I'm Bill, by the way," Bill extended his hand out to Nunzio who shook it reluctantly. He then turned to Gabriella and kissing the back of her hand, he drawled, "I can see where Christina gets all of her fire and beauty, Mrs. Matteo."

  Gabriella gushed under Bill's flattery before nodding her approval at her daughter. "Handsome and charming; this is good husband material, Christina." Not to mention, Gabriella thought to herself, that this boy came from one of the richest families in the country and her daughter would be living in this big house and not have to want for anything material-wise. It wasn't that Gabriella was greedy—she just wanted to see her little girl taken care of, as any mother would.

  "Th… Thanks, mom." Christina stammered.

  "Let me see your ring." Gabriella asked as Christina brought her left hand up. "Oh," she gushed, "It's beautiful." Then she looked up at her daughter's face and touched her cheek. She had tears in her eyes. "And you're beautiful. I can't believe it. My baby's getting married and soon, she'll be having babies of her own."

  Fat chance of that, Christina thought, but for her mom's sake, she smiled like a happy bride.

  "I still think you should have told us yourself about this shindig," Nunzio was still annoyed with his daughter.

  Bill placed his hand on Nunzio's shoulder and steered him away. "Mr. Matteo, why don't I introduce you to some people and get you something to eat?"

  Gabriella quickly stepped in. "Good idea, Bill. Take the pig away and feed him. I need to talk to my baby in private."

  She wrapped her arms around her daughter. "Christina, we have to make a guest list for the wedding. And I want to see your dress, and we have to give you a bridal shower and I'm not inviting your Uncle John…"

  Oh no! Christina thought, as her mom yammered away. How much more difficult was this going to be when she'd call off the wedding eventually? Which she would—because she and Jenny were even more determined now to find some dirt on the rat bastard.

  Throughout this whole little scene, William had been grinning like a diabolical cat. Yes—Nunzio and Gabriella would make sure their daughter definitely married his son—or else.

  Suddenly, William's smile dropped at who he saw walking towards them. "What in, God Almighty blue blazes in hell, is that blasted woman doing here?" he hissed.

  Bill, Christina and her parents all turned to look. It was William's ex-wife, Bill's mom—Maddie Havenwood. Dressed in a flowing, green dress that matched her glorious green eyes, Maddie Havenwood was a very beautiful, statuesque 55 year-old-woman who proudly walked across the lawn as if she owned the place—which she had, of course, up until the divorce five years ago.

  Christina suddenly saw where Bill got his striking good looks.

  "I invited her," Bill smirked at his father. His dad wasn't the only one good at pulling stunts.

  William angrily rounded on his son. "Why, in hell, did you do that?"

  "Because she's my mother and this is my engagement party and I wanted her to meet Christina," Bill smugly answered hi
s father.

  "Bloody hell!" William let out on a whoosh of air. He was not happy.

  Maddie finally approached them. Many of the rich snobs had been cattily watching her walk across the estate. They all knew her, of course, as she'd been part of their crowd up until the divorce. How would she and William act towards each other, they wondered? They knew that there was a lot of bad blood between them since Maddie had left William to go live on the commune in Arizona.

  "Hello, William," Maddie said as she raised her chin, defying him to throw her out.

  William straightened his spine, "Maddie. Did you fly out here in a plane or did you come on your broomstick?"

  Maddie laughed, "Why William, the broomstick, of course… the one you taught me how to ride."

  William pretended to laugh. He knew everyone's eyes were on them. "You look well. Obviously your hippy-dippy lifestyle suits you. Been practicing your crystal ball readings?"

  "Aura readings, actually. And I can see yours has become blacker than ever. Still up to no good?"

  William seethed. "I'm surprised my aura hasn't gotten lighter since I got rid of that demon that was on my back five years ago."

  "Don't look now but the demon's back," Maddie giggled.

  William scowled. The blasted woman was laughing at him!

  Stepping between them, Bill kissed his mom's cheek. "Thanks for coming, mom," he said.

  "Anything for you, my darling," she replied, as she hugged her son.

  Bill reached for Christina and pulled her towards him. "I want you to meet Christina," he proudly announced. He then turned to his bride-to-be. "Christina, this is my mom, Maddie Havenwood."

  Christina could tell he loved his mother very much and was fiercely proud of her, no matter what William said.

  Christina shook her hand, "It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Havenwood."

  Maddie smiled, "Please call me Maddie." She turned to her son, "She's very beautiful, Bill and I'm so happy that you've asked me to be a part of this." She patted her boy's cheek—and he bloomed under her loving gaze.

  "I wouldn't have it any other way, mom."

  Off to the side, William was still frowning. "I'm not happy about this; I'm not happy at all," he proclaimed, before walking away.

  "He's such an asshole!" Bill exclaimed at his father's retreating back.

  Maddie patted her son's arm. "Never you mind about him. I know how to handle your father."

  Bill smiled at her and then proceeded to introduce her to the Matteos. After all, they were soon to become one big, happy, dysfunctional family—if he had anything to say about it.

  Chapter 46

  After fielding her mother's zillion questions about her upcoming 'wedding', Christina finally managed to pawn her off on the Latimers, an older couple who were soon to embark on a holiday in Italy. Her father was busy at the buffet table and Bill's mom, Maddie was catching up with old friends by the pool. Christina scanned the party for Bill and saw him walking towards her.

  "Things are going well, don't you think?" he beamed.

  "Except for my parents showing up," Christina replied dryly.

  "I see Satan is trying to control our lives again but this time, I've got a secret weapon."

  "You mean, your mom?"

  Bill nodded. "I told her to come and get the old goat off our backs. If he's fighting with her, then he's not fighting with us and maybe we can get married without his damned interference."

  "Assuming I don't find the ring, of course," Christina quipped.

  Bill gave her a devilish grin, "Always assuming that. Anyway, mom said to leave it to her and she'd handle the 'evil one'."

  Christina was surprised. "That's exactly what my mom calls my dad."

  Bill laughed. "Looks like we have more things in common than you thought. Maybe we're soulmates?"

  "More like cellmates," she fired back.

  "I'm not your jailer, Christina. You can walk anytime."

  "Sure, I can walk… right into court where you'll sue me for the ring money."

  Bill shrugged. "I need you." His words carried more meaning than Christina realized.

  She rolled her eyes up, "Yes, yes, I know… so you can keep your greedy fingers in your father's billion dollar cookie jar. But why do I have to be the sacrificial lamb?"

  She unintentionally batted her beautiful eyes up at him and he almost caved. He almost told her that their deal was off—and that she didn't owe him anything—and that she could leave here anytime. He almost told her he'd do anything to make her happy.

  Almost.

  But he stopped himself. Love could be selfish like that sometimes—or was that fear?

  "I wasn't the one who lost a quarter of a million dollar ring, Christina. Now I wonder why you did that?" he teased.

  Christina's eyes flashed anger at him, "You're making it sound like I did it on purpose?"

  He winked at her, "Maybe subconsciously you do want to marry me."

  Christina was taken aback, "Are you insane?"

  "Maybe you want me and by losing the ring, you can have me without having to admit to yourself that you want me. It's Psychology 101."

  He was laughing at her now and Christina was getting madder. "Another college course you flunked since you were so busy with your farming and drinking," she tartly replied.

  Bill laughed out loud at that one. "See how well you know me? We were made for each other, darling. Admit that at least."

  "You… you… you asshole!" Christina spluttered. He was getting too close to the truth and she unconsciously sensed it.

  He continued to laugh at her, "Darling, don't be like that. All I want is some of your sweet sugar. Why don't you plant one right here…" he pointed to his lips, "…and we'll kiss and make up."

  "My lips are not what I want to plant right there," Christina seethed through gritted teeth as her fist clenched.

  Laughing, Bill inched closer and tingling sensations coursed up and down Christina's spine as his powerful, male chest came up against her soft, womanly curves. He looked down at her from his superior height.

  "Try it… and see what happens," he whispered wickedly as his sensual gaze roamed over her face.

  Seconds ticked by as they both stared at each other. But Christina backed off first. She knew he was enough of a rat to take advantage of the situation.

  Several guests approached them and for their benefit, Christina lovingly smiled up at him. "Excuse me, my love. I have to go powder my nose," she sweetly announced, then softly hissed at him, "Before I break yours."

  He bent down to her ear, "You know I like it rough," he whispered. He winked at her then, before breaking out into another grin as he took in her livid expression.

  Christina's eyes narrowed as she seethed at him for getting the better of her. What was that damn tuxedo of his made out of tonight? Teflon? No epitaph or insult she was hurtling at him seemed to be sticking.

  As she turned to storm off, William approached them carrying two flutes of champagne and stopped her.

  "Christina, where are you going?" He thrust a glass in each of their hands and hurriedly said, "I'm doing the toast now."

  He, then, turned to the crowd, motioned to the orchestra to stop playing and started speaking in a loud voice. "Excuse me, everyone. I'd like to make a toast to the bride and groom."

  Christina glanced over at Bill whom she saw had stopped laughing and whose eyes were now glued to the glass of bubbly he was holding in his hand. He was almost hypnotized by it and she saw his hand was suddenly shaking slightly.

  She knew what he was thinking. His father was going to make a toast and everyone would drink to it—and with all of their eyes on the bride and groom, Bill would be on center stage where he would have to take a sip of the alcohol in front of everyone. He couldn't very well 'not' toast to his own engagement, now could he?

  Bill's hand was shaking ever so slightly, not enough for anyone to notice—except for Christina. Good. Why should she feel sorry for him? She wasn't his babysitter an
d bastards didn't deserve help.

  But Christina wasn't built like that. She was tough but she wasn't ruthless—and when it came right down to it, she didn't have the killer instinct. And every nerve in her body was screaming out to her to help him. Suddenly, her thinking processes stopped and she began to operate on pure instinct.

  William continued with his speech as he lifted his glass high in the air. "To Bill and Christina, long life, much love and many babies. Congratulations."

  Everyone saluted them with their glasses and began to sip their drinks. Quickly, Christina put her hand on Bill's arm to prevent him from raising the glass of alcohol anywhere near his lips and brought her face up to his for a kiss instead. Bill swiftly realized what she was doing and lowered his lips, capturing hers in a strong kiss just as everyone was sipping their champagne. The crowd started to clap as they thought the engagement kiss the two were now sharing was part of the toast.

  As Christina pulled away from him, she took the tempting glass of champagne out of his hands and put both hers and his on a nearby table. She smiled at him then as a silent form of communication passed between them.

  Bill was floored. That had been the nicest, sweetest thing anybody had ever done for him. She had come to his rescue at a moment of crisis when he had needed help the most. And even though she was mad at him and he was forcing her into this diabolical arrangement, she had still come through for him. Maybe, she cared for him a little? Could he hope?

  His eyes turned serious as he let his gaze wander over her beautiful face. "Thank you for that," he whispered, looking for any clues that would indicate she had true feelings for him.

  But Christina quickly lowered her eyes and retreated back into her business-like shell. "You helped me with my parents earlier. I owe you one," she abruptly stated, before walking away.

  Confused and frustrated, Bill cursed under his breath, as he watched her leave.

  * * *

  Christina quickly walked into the house on her way to her bedroom. Her face was hot and she needed to splash some cool water on her wrists. She couldn't deny it any longer. She loved him—bastard or not—she loved him.