Page 234 of The Counterfeit Lover

He would have her. He would melt her fears away and he would bend her will to his. Maybe it would take longer than he'd anticipated, but at the end of the day shewouldbelong to him. Then, finally,shewould be the one greeting him when he arrived home.

Making himself comfortable with Lovely in his lap, Michele proceeded to watch his pet as she went about her day—anxious at seeing her reaction when she'd find the latest thing he'd left for her in her room.

Finishing up the page she was working on, she got up, going to the fridge and pulling some items from it to make herself a sandwich.

Michele watched closely, committing to mind the ingredients she chose to know what her preference was for the future.

Everything she was doing was utterly mundane. But to his eyes, it played like the most scintillating movie he'd ever seen.

She started eating, small bites as she directed her attention to her book, using one hand to eat and the other to write.

She made such an endearing picture. Especially as a strand of hair fell over her face, which she promptly blew away.

It was a couple of hours before she finished up her work and went back to her room.

In that time, Michele never once left his room, drinking in every second of her presence. It didn't matter that he still had things to attend to and business to conduct. He did that curtly over the phone, his sharp mind working perfectly fine in spite of the fact that his eyes were held captive to the monitor.

The moment he noticed her gather her stuff to head to her room, his pulse quickened.

Lovely, sensing his excitement, gave a small yelp as he jumped out of his arms, pouting at Michele fornotbeing the sole object of his affection.

"Later, Lovely," Michele told him, expecting the dog to understand and move out of his way as he got closer to the screen.

Lovely pouted for a second before he scrambled off the bed and to his own sleeping place, curling on the soft pillow and curiously watching Michele's rapt expression.

That was it—the moment he'd been waiting for.

His pet opened the door to her room, going straight for her desk to deposit her books. It was then that she did a double-take, noticing the new item that had been beautifully packed with a ribbon on top.

Her brows scrunched in confusion, and grabbing it, she looked around her room—no doubt thinking Michele might still be around.

When she didn't detect anyone inside, she took a solid minute as she simply stared at the package, her lower lip between her teeth as she considered whether to open it or not.

"Open it," Michele said in a low voice, his fists clenched in anticipation.

Until that moment he hadn't entertained the thought that his pet might just…throw it away without even looking at it. And as that thought arose, so did the fear that she mightnotsee what he'd gotten her.

It was a gift he'd put a lot of effort in. He'd done countless searches and research before he'd settled on it, thinking it was something his pet would both need and enjoy.

After what seemed like an eternity, his pet finally opened it—slowly, methodically. She didn't tear at the packaging, nor at the ribbon. It was almost as if she wanted to preserve the outside as well.

To Michele's eyes, however, her slowness indicated a lack of excitement, and immediately his spirits plummeted. She didn't care for his gifts, did she?

For weeks now he'd done his best to leave her a little something every other day when he could sneak inside her house. Sometimes that would be while no one was home, but there were also those times when he snuck inside while she slept, and he took his time watching her before leaving, as if he'd never been there.

Aside from the gifts she always found in her room, he wagered his pet had no idea that he was almost always by her side during the night—sometimes going as far as touching her and laying by her side.

When she was almost done peeling the packaging paper away, she frowned as she took in the actual present—a tablet.

But it wasn't justanytablet. It was one Michele had had specifically programmed for her and all the features were dyslexia friendly. But more than anything, there was one more gift inside.

And as his pet powered on the device, her eyes widened when she realized what was thetruepresent.

Taking his own tablet from his table, he activated the screen mirroring so he could see exactly what she was doing.

Alright, so maybe his gift hadn't been entirely selfless. But Michele couldn't forgo the opportunity to study his pet in detail—and that included her internet browsing habits and the media she consumed.

The moment her tablet was on, a welcome message directed her to one of the apps he'd had installed on the device, followed by additional instructions that were not written, but spoken.

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