Chapter 3

It didn't take long for Chloe to fall into Harry's bed.

She was flattered by his attention, overwhelmed by the sudden intimacy with a powerful Senator.

I played the part of the understanding, slightly oblivious pregnant wife perfectly.

"Chloe, dear," I'd say, "you're working so hard for Harry. He appreciates it so much."

I gifted her a silk scarf, then a pair of expensive earrings Harry had once given me.

"You deserve pretty things," I told her, watching the greed and gratitude fight in her eyes.

She started wearing more makeup, her clothes became a little more revealing.

Mrs. Davis watched her niece with a worried frown, but said nothing to me. She knew her place.

"Harry mentioned he' s often working late in his home office," I said to Chloe one day, feigning concern. "It must be tiring for you, going back and forth from your room in the staff wing."

Chloe blushed. "It's no trouble, Mrs. Bishop."

"Nonsense," I insisted. "There's a guest room much closer to his study. It's smaller, but more convenient for you. I'll have it prepared."

Her eyes widened. Closer to Harry, more opportunities.

She practically vibrated with excitement. "Oh, Mrs. Bishop, you're too kind."

Kindness had nothing to do with it. I was isolating her, making her more dependent on Harry, and more visible.

Next, I needed another distraction, another entanglement for Harry.

Isabelle "Izzy" Moreau. A struggling actress with a minor social media following, a desperate hunger for fame, and a love for drama.

I "accidentally" ran into her at a charity luncheon I rarely attended in my first life.

"Izzy, darling!" I gushed, feigning long-lost friendship. "You look fabulous. We must catch up."

I invited her for tea, listened to her woes about auditions and algorithms.

Then, I casually mentioned Harry was looking for someone to help with "social media outreach" for a new community initiative.

"It needs a fresh, dynamic face," I said, "Someone like you, Izzy."

Her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree.

I engineered a "chance" encounter at a local event Harry was speaking at.

Izzy, dressed to impress, made a beeline for him, armed with my carefully crafted compliments about his speech and her "ideas" for his online presence.

Harry, ever susceptible to flattery from a pretty young woman, was easily charmed.

Another mistress in the making. Perfect.

Just as these seeds of chaos were sprouting, Eleanor and Victoria arrived at the estate, unannounced.

They swept in like a storm, Eleanor' s face a mask of disapproval, Victoria' s a picture of feigned concern.

"Evelyn, darling!" Eleanor' s voice was sharp. "We heard the most peculiar rumor. That you' re... expecting? And you didn' t think to tell your own mother?"

She wasn't my mother, but she never missed a chance to assert her imagined authority.

Victoria glided to my side, her hand on my arm, her touch like ice despite her warm smile.

"Dearest Evie, are you alright? Harry seemed so... evasive. And we hear you've been allowing the staff certain... liberties." Her eyes flicked towards Chloe, who scurried away.

They were furious about the delayed pregnancy news, and clearly, gossip about Chloe had already reached them.

"I'm perfectly fine, Eleanor, Victoria," I said, my voice calm. "Just a little tired. And Chloe is being a great help to Harry."

Victoria' s eyes narrowed. She didn' t like another woman, any woman, close to Harry.

"Well, in your delicate condition," Victoria cooed, her voice dripping with false sweetness, "you shouldn't be alone. I insist on staying. I can help, look after you. I' ve been doing so much research into holistic health for pregnancy."

She maneuvered herself into the best guest suite, the one strategically near Harry's study.

The main antagonist had officially entered the game, right on schedule.

I almost smiled. She was so predictable.

Her true motives were clear: get close to Harry, undermine me.

Let the games truly begin, I thought. She had no idea what I had in store for her.