She Used Me for a Dare… Now I Own Her Mother

Chapter 268: Invitation

He led her through the villa, room by room, and this time she didn’t bother hiding anything.

Her eyes lingered on him openly… tracing the line of his shoulders when he gestured toward the custom woodwork, following the movement of his hands as he explained the imported marble, watching the way his shirt stretched across his back when he reached to open a cabinet.

In the library, she stepped close, her fingers brushing the spine of a leather-bound book on the highest shelf.

“You haven’t filled these yet,” she observed, her voice soft.

“Not yet,” Alex replied. “I’m waiting for the right stories.”

She turned to look at him, something warm flickering in her eyes.

“Patient,” she said. “I like that.”

In the den, she moved to the floor-to-ceiling windows, her silhouette outlined by the afternoon light streaming through. The glow caught in her dark hair, turned her cream blouse almost translucent, revealed the elegant curve of her waist and hips.

She knew he was watching.

And she didn’t hide.

Alex felt something shift inside him.

He’d been holding back… playing the role of the polite host, maintaining distance, controlling the pace. But watching her move through his space with that deliberate grace, seeing the way she looked at him without shame or pretense…

He let the mask slip.

Let his eyes linger when she turned. Let his gaze follow the curve of her throat when she tilted her head. Let himself want her, openly, the way she’d been wanting him since she arrived.

She noticed.

Of course she did.

Her smile widened, something victorious and pleased flickering across her face.

“What else is there?” she asked, turning back toward him. “I feel like I’m only seeing half of what makes this place special.”

Alex gestured toward the staircase leading to the second floor.

“The master suite is upstairs.”

Her eyes brightened with curiosity… genuine, unguarded.

“And?” she pressed. “What else?”

“A terrace,” he said. “Private balcony off the master bedroom. The view is… incredible.”

Her breath caught.

“A terrace?” She stepped closer, her hand finding his arm, fingers curling around his bicep with easy familiarity. “I have to see it. It must be beautiful in the morning light.”

Before he could respond, she was already moving… pulling him gently toward the stairs, her excitement tangible and infectious.

“Come on,” she said, glancing back with a smile that was part mischief, part genuine eagerness. “Show me.”

Alex followed her up the curved staircase, and for the first time since she’d arrived, he let himself simply watch.

She moved like water… smooth, unhurried, every step deliberate and graceful. Her hips swayed with each rise of the stairs, the tailored slacks hugging the curve of her body in ways that made it impossible to look away.

Beautiful.

The word barely covered it.

She was enchanting.

The way she moved, the confidence in every gesture, the subtle awareness that she was being watched and the pleasure she took in it… all of it pulled at him like gravity.

Halfway up the stairs, she glanced back.

And caught him staring.

Her steps slowed. Stopped.

She turned just enough to meet his eyes, one hand resting on the railing, her expression caught between amusement and something softer.

“What?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

He held her gaze, his voice low and steady.

“You’re really beautiful.”

The words landed between them like a confession.

Vivienne’s breath hitched.

For just a heartbeat, her polished mask cracked… genuine surprise flickering across her face, followed by something raw and unguarded.

Pleasure.

A faint flush crept across her cheeks, and she looked away, her smile turning shy in a way that felt impossibly intimate.

“You…” She laughed softly, shaking her head. “You can’t just say things like that.”

“Why not?” Alex stepped closer, closing the distance between them on the staircase. “It’s true.”

She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face as if trying to decide whether he meant it.

Whatever she saw there seemed to convince her.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, her voice gentler than he’d ever heard it.

Then she turned and continued up the stairs, but slower now… aware of him behind her, aware of the shift in the air between them.

***

The master bedroom was just as he’d left it … sheets rumpled from sleep, the sitting area untouched, the doors to the balcony standing open to let in the afternoon breeze.

But Vivienne didn’t notice any of it.

Her attention was fixed entirely on the view beyond the glass doors.

She stepped through onto the terrace, and Alex watched as her entire demeanor shifted.

Her breath caught.

Her hand rose to her mouth.

And for a moment, she simply stood there, frozen, taking it all in.

The terrace stretched wide and private, framed by glass railings that gave an unobstructed view of the estate below. The manicured gardens sprawled in every direction, explosions of late-season blooms in gold and crimson. Beyond that, the distant treeline marked the horizon, and above it all, the sky stretched endless and blue.

“Oh my God,” she breathed.

She moved to the railing, her fingers curling around the smooth glass, her eyes wide with genuine wonder.

“This is…” She trailed off, turning in a slow circle as if trying to absorb every angle, every detail. “Alex, this is perfect.”

She looked back at him, and the expression on her face was something he hadn’t seen before.

Joy.

Not calculated seduction. Not performance.

Just pure, unfiltered happiness.

“I can’t believe you get to wake up to this every day,” she said, her voice filled with awe. “The light, the view, the privacy…” She gestured around them, her smile growing. “You could do anything out here and no one would ever know.”

Alex stepped onto the terrace beside her, leaning against the railing.

“That was part of the appeal,” he said.

She laughed… light, genuine.

“I bet.”

For a moment, they stood side by side in comfortable silence, the breeze carrying the scent of jasmine and warm earth.

Then Vivienne turned to face him, her expression softening into something more serious.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “For showing me this. For… trusting me enough to let me into your space.”

The words carried weight… an acknowledgment of intimacy that went beyond the physical.

Alex studied her, seeing past the mask for the first time.

Vivienne Vanderbilt wasn’t just playing a game.

She was lonely.

Powerful, yes. Confident, absolutely. But beneath all of it—beneath the empire and the wealth and the ruthless intelligence—there was a woman who’d been playing roles for so long she’d forgotten what it felt like to just be.

And right now, standing on his terrace with the sun warming her face and the wind in her hair, she wasn’t pretending.

She was just… her.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Alex said, and he meant it.

Her eyes widened slightly, surprise flickering across her face.

Then she smiled… small, genuine, almost fragile.

“So am I.”

The silence stretched between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.

It was charged.

Vivienne stepped closer, her body angling toward his, the space between them shrinking to nothing.

“You know,” she said softly, her voice dropping to that intimate register that made his pulse quicken, “when I imagined what kind of man could afford a place like this, I never pictured…”

She trailed off, her hand rising to rest on his chest, fingers splaying across the thin cotton of his shirt.

“Someone like you,” she finished.

“What did you picture?” Alex asked, his own hand finding her waist, pulling her closer.

“Someone older. Arrogant. Boring.” Her smile turned mischievous. “Definitely not someone who looks like they were carved by a very generous god.”

Alex laughed, and the sound seemed to delight her.

“Flattery?”

“Honesty,” she corrected, her free hand sliding up to curl around the back of his neck. “There’s a difference.”

The air between them thickened, the playful edge giving way to something heavier.

Vivienne’s eyes dropped to his mouth.

“Alex…”

His name on her lips was half question, half plea.

He didn’t make her ask twice.

His hand tightened on her waist, pulling her flush against him, and she came willingly—melting into his body like she’d been waiting for this moment since she arrived.

“I shouldn’t,” she whispered, even as her fingers threaded through his hair. “I really shouldn’t.”

“Then don’t,” Alex murmured, his mouth hovering just above hers.

For a heartbeat, she hesitated.

Then she closed the distance.

***