The E-mail

Elle is slowly brushing her hair, looking at herself in the mirror. She’s wearing a silky negligee which perfectly highlights her perky b*easts. Taking her silky hair, she carefully prepares herself for another torturous night with Vincent. After being with Hector for so long, she has learnt how to manipulate men. Vincent is no better than his son; he’s worse.

But it doesn’t matter to her. Her eyes are still on Ryder.

She’s in the room she now shares with Vincent. Outwardly, she’s looking like a doll. Her pale skin is glowing while her dark hair is swaying in the air. There’s a soft blush on her cheeks and she looks as angelic as ever.

Inwardly, she’s in agony.

“This is just for Ryder,” she tells herself. “Once Scarlett is dead, I’ll take him. I know he’ll forgive me…”

They were in love once. It was a mad, passionate love. Surely, he’ll remember it?

Beep!

Her phone flashes a message. She takes it, expecting it to be from Vincent but it’s an email from an unknown sended. Frowning, she