Bought as the Billionaire's Mistress

Chapter 8 Secret

Ragged, gasping breaths tore from Desmond's chest as he shoved me away with the last shred of his fraying self-control. "Get off me. All you women are nothing but liars!"

I steadied my shaky knees quickly, refusing to back down. Instead, I leaned in again, curling my fingers lightly around the arms of his wheelchair to hold myself steady, and lifted my chin to meet his gaze with a look of unwavering, feigned sincerity.

"Other women might lie to you, but I swear it—Lillian Lockhart will never deceive you," I said firmly, my tone soft but steady.

I buried the sharp, calculating edge of my true intentions deep beneath my gaze, forcing my features to soften into a look of pure, earnest devotion, as if my heart truly belonged only to him.

A cold, serpentine glint flashed back into Desmond's eyes at my words, the kind of look that made my blood run cold.

One wrong move, one flicker of dishonesty, and I had no doubt he would wrap his hands around my throat and end my life in an instant. "You claim to love a cripple?"

"I've been in love with you for an entire year," I replied without hesitation, laying on the shy, breathless tone of a smitten young girl perfectly.

The bold declaration left Desmond completely frozen, his shoulders going rigid.

I dropped my gaze demurely, letting my cheeks flush pink to sell the act of a bashful college girl too nervous to confess her long-held feelings, clumsy and earnest with young love.

We had once attended Averio University together. A year ago, I had been a wide-eyed freshman, still finding my footing on campus, when Desmond had returned as a distinguished graduate to present a large alumni donation to the school.

Our interaction had been brief, fleeting, and he had never paid the quiet, unassuming freshman version of me any real mind at all.

I still remembered the day clearly: I had tried to hand him a bottle of cold water, only to be mocked mercilessly by the crowd around us, taunted for being a nobody foolish enough to covet the heir of the Finch family.

But Desmond had taken the water gently, stepping in to defuse the teasing and shield me from the humiliation, even patting the top of my head softly and encouraging me to apply for an internship at his company once I graduated.

Back then, he had been light and warm, a man of quiet grace and gentle manners, nothing like the bitter, violent, shadowed man before me now.

Rumors had spread only months later that his company had collapsed, that he had left the country, and never planned to return.

I had never imagined our next meeting would be in this gilded prison, under such horrifying circumstances.

A distant, haunted look crossed Desmond's face at the mention of our shared past.

"Not long after that day, that woman and Victor plotted against me. They staged a car crash, shattered my legs, and seized control of my company. Victor locked me away here under the pretense of sending me abroad for treatment, and I've been imprisoned in this mansion for over a year," he said quietly, his voice hollow with old pain.

Confusion and sympathy laced my tone. "Why would they do such a thing to you?"

A bitter, mocking laugh escaped Desmond's lips. "What else? Power. Control."

The Finch family was the most powerful elite dynasty in all of Averio City, holding sway over nearly forty percent of the city's political and financial power. Their influence was so vast that a single move from them could send the entire city reeling.

For that kind of unchecked power, even blood family would turn on each other without a second thought, fighting to the death for control.

I had heard whispers of ruthless infighting among wealthy families, but nothing had prepared me for this level of cruelty. "But she's your mother, and he's your own brother. How could they bear to hurt you like this?"

Desmond's expression went deathly still in an instant, a dark, murderous undercurrent swirling in his eyes.

He leaned in closer, wheeling his chair until his mouth was right next to my ear, his voice dropping to a low, devilish whisper. "Do you really think Victor is blood of the Finch family? He's nothing but a bastard, a child she conceived with another man behind my father's back."

'Victor isn't a true Finch?'

The weight of what I'd just heard crashed down on me immediately—I had stumbled into a deadly, closely guarded family secret, the kind that got people killed.

Panic surged through me, sharp and overwhelming.

'If Victor ever finds out I know this truth, he will never let me live.'

I pushed myself to my feet in a hurry, desperate to flee the room and the danger closing in, but Desmond caught me from behind, holding me in place effortlessly.

"It's too late to run. This entire mansion is wired with surveillance cameras and listening devices. Every move we make, every word we say, has already been sent straight to Victor," he said coolly, his tone dripping with cruel amusement.

The brief moment of calm between us vanished entirely, replaced by the familiar cold, cruel glint in his eyes. "Lillian, Victor knows everything now. You and I are on the same side, whether you like it or not."

In an instant, everything clicked into place.

I finally understood why Desmond had chosen to reveal such a devastating secret to me.

Victor had known about my brief college encounter with Desmond long ago—that was why he had specifically picked a girl from Averio University, counting on that old connection to make me the perfect person to get close to Desmond and complete his twisted task.

Desmond had figured out Victor's trap the second I mentioned our shared past, and he had turned the game right back around.

By telling me the truth about Victor's lineage, he had ensured Victor would see me as a liability, a threat that needed to be eliminated.

The very girl Victor had carefully placed by Desmond's side was now his worst nightmare, and Victor would want me dead even more than Desmond ever had.

I had thought my innocent confession would win Desmond over, that it would be my way out of this nightmare.

Instead, he had dug an even deeper grave for me, one that could very well cost me my life.

Neither brother had a heart; I was nothing but a pawn in their ruthless game.

Desmond's eyes were once again cold and hellish, a mocking, cruel smile tugging at his lips. "This secret about Victor has been buried for decades. If it ever gets out, it will destroy everything. You have no way out, Lillian. No way to survive this."

'He wants me dead.'

A cold dread washed over me, cold sweat breaking out all over my skin as I realized the full extent of my trap.

My mind raced desperately, searching for any way out, any plan to save myself.

Before I could land on a single idea, a sharp knock sounded at the bedroom door. The handle turned slowly, and Arthur stepped inside. "Ms. Lockhart, Mr. Victor Finch is asking for you."