Page 133 of Bitter Rival

I’ve been accused of being cool and aloof, but Astrid is in a league of her own. She’s calculating, manipulative, and cold as ice. Unless she wants something. Then she turns on the charm.

Unfortunately for her, I’m holding all the cards. She doesn’t stand a chance of winning this game.

“How’s Rupert Osborne, Isabelle? I suppose congratulations are in order. I’m guessing you’re still in the honeymoon phase and old Rupes hasn’t figured out what you’re capable of yet.”

She laughs, amused. “So that’s your plan, is it? You’re hoping to destroy my marriage.”

“From what I hear, he’s knocking on death’s door. Doesn’t have long now, does he? I’ve gotta hand it to you.” I let out a low whistle. “You sure know how to pick them. I’d be willing to bet his offspring aren’t too thrilled to have a new step-mommy though.”

Astrid doesn’t even blink. There are no cracks in her façade. Nothing in her expression that gives her away.

Then again, she’s a professional con woman so I would expect nothing less. “His children are grown with lives of their own,” she says calmly. “They don’t care what their dear old daddy does.”

“But they do care about their inheritance. Which is substantial from what I understand. That could set you up for life, couldn’t it, Isabelle? It would be a real shame if he changed his will at the last minute and left you with nothing. What would compel him to do that?” I tap my chin and pretend to think about it. “How much dirt would he need on Astrid Larsson to completely disown her?”

She sighs. “This is getting tedious.” She folds her arms over her chest and raises her brows. “What do you want, Beckett?”

This is the moment I’ve been waiting for. Fucking dreaming about.

I’m in a prime position to take everything away from her. Strip her of her phony title. Expose her for what she really is. And revel in her downfall.

And I will do all those things. I’ve already set the plan in motion. It almost felt like my duty to provide the Osbornes with Astrid’s real identity and all the information they need to persuade the old man to disinherit her.

But it won’t undo the harm that was done.

It won’t bring my mother back.

It won’t make up for the way Astrid treated her own daughter.

And that knowledge leaves me feeling as hollow and empty as Daisy predicted it would.

Astrid can’t give me anything I want. Except maybe one thing. “How did you get my father to give you everything?”

Her gaze is cool. “He obviously didn’t give me everything. But maybe you should be asking Daisy why he left her half of everything. Don’t be fooled by her innocence. After all, she is my daughter and I taught her everything I know.”

This woman is unbelievable. Three months ago, I might have even believed her. Hell, I know I would have. Now though? I know better.

“Daisy is nothing like you,” I bite out.

Astrid tilts her head. “Would you bet your life on it?”

I give her a long look. I don’t even have to think about it. I know the answer. “Yes.”

Surprise flashes across her face but in an instant it’s gone. She gives me a slow smile. “Well, well, well. How long did it take you to figure that out? I’m guessing you didn’t give her the benefit of the doubt when she showed up here, did you? I’d go so far as to wager that you treated my daughter like the hired help, didn’t you?”

She laughs. “I know men like you. Poor little Beckett. Abandoned by his mommy and his daddy so he steeled his heart against love and sought revenge from everyone who had ever wronged him. You know what happens to men like you? You end up miserable and alone.”

This goddamn woman. I need her to get out of my sight before I do something I’ll really regret.

“From where I’m sitting, you’re the only one who’s miserable.” I stand. “I want you gone. Go back to your pathetic life and stay gone. I never want to see your face again. And stay away from Daisy.”

She laughs as she stands up from her chair. “I think I gave you too much credit. Well, it’s been fun.”

She saunters across the terrace, her heels clicking on the terracotta tiles, and waves her hand over her shoulder. “Keep the money. Buy yourself something nice. Donate it to charity. Burn it for all I care. You’ve earned it.”

I follow her down the hallway and usher her out the door. I can’t get her out of here fast enough.

I’m about to slam the door shut when she turns and places her palm on the wood to stop me from closing it in her face.

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