CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Penelope's POV

Marie-Anne's words lingered in my mind long after she had left the room. 

"Because Madison did something to me. Consider this my revenge."

I had been prepared for scrutiny, suspicion, even outright hostility—but not this. Not someone willing to help me. Not someone who saw through my deception and, instead of exposing me, decided to aid me in pulling it off.

The pressure of it settled on my shoulders as I exhaled slowly, pressing my fingers against my temple. I had no choice but to play my part perfectly. I couldn't afford mistakes.

Fifty days.

That was all I needed. Just fifty days of pretending to be Madison, and then I could disappear. Fake a death as Madison and walk away with the $10 billion and start over as Penelope again.

I had to do it right.

I repeated the thought like a mantra, gripping it tightly in my mind. I couldn't slip. I couldn't let doubt cloud my actions. Every word, every movement, every look—I had to embody Madison in all her sharp, cunning glory.

By the time Julien stepped into the room, I had forced all uncertainty into a locked box deep inside me. My mask was firmly in place.

I met his gaze and forced my lips into an easy smile. "I'll have dinner with the family later this evening."

Julien tilted his head slightly, studying me with an unreadable expression. "Are you certain? Don't you need a little more rest? I can tell everyone you are resting, I'm sure they'd understand."

I forced out a smile, "I'm good. I can manage. I should be there tonight. it's a family dinner for a reason."

He was about to hesitate again, but then, he nodded slowly, accessing me closely, "Alright. Whatever you want. Be ready in an hour, then."

He starts backing away and casually blows a kiss, then he swirls around and darts out of the room. Those are the things I'd put up with till my 50 days is up. I'm not sure if I can resist it, considering I still feel something for him even if I hated to admit it, but I had to. Moreover, I was doing for myself and for my future.

---

A few hours later, I stood in front of the full-length mirror in my room, smoothing my hands over the sleek black mini-dress hugging my figure. The off-the-shoulder design framed my collarbones elegantly, the crisp white bow at the neckline adding just the right touch of softness. The material stretched against my curves, accentuating them in a way that was both bold and deliberate.

I turned slightly, adjusting a loose strand of hair. If I was going to play Madison, I needed to look the part. She was effortless, always exuding an air of casual seduction without trying too hard.

A smooth knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts.

Julien stepped in without waiting for an invitation, his movements slow and unhurried. 

His presence shifted the air, demanding attention without a single word. Dressed in a fitted black polo that accentuated his toned arms and tailored pants that hung effortlessly on his frame, he carried himself like someone who was used to commanding power. The silver glint of his wristwatch caught the dim light, and even his casual stance radiated authority.

His masculine scent enveloping me. This time, he smelled a mix of spicy and circus. Such delicious scent.

The moment his gaze landed on me, something shifted in his expression.

His eyes darkened, his lips curling into a slow, devastating smile.

My pulse quickened.

Damn him.

I shifted my weight onto one leg, tilting my head just slightly, letting my smile turn playful as I murmured, "How do I look?"

Julien's gaze dragged over me, slow and deliberate, as if he were committing every detail to memory.

Then, in a voice that sent a shiver down my spine, he said, "You are spectacular."

I swallowed.

His smile deepened, the corner of his mouth lifting in that way that made it impossible to tell whether he was teasing or completely serious.

Then he said, "Am I just a hungry pervert, or do all these dresses look more cunty on you than they did before?"

The air shifted.

For a moment, my brain shutdown. The audacity of the question, the way he said it so casually—it caught me completely off guard.

I recovered quickly, lifting a brow as I met his gaze. "You're hungry, I think."

Julien exhaled a quiet chuckle, his eyes never leaving mine. "Excellent."

He took a step closer, his movements slow, measured.

Then, with a smirk that made my stomach clench, he murmured, "Then how about a quickie on that couch?"

My breath hitched.

I caught the meaning behind his words instantly, my mind racing to process whether he was serious or just toying with me.

Before I could react, he chuckled, shaking his head. "Relax," he said smoothly. "You look anxious. Don't worry, I was just kidding."

I forced my shoulders to loosen, exhaling softly.

Julien leaned in slightly, his voice dropping lower. "I wouldn't possibly let my family get tortured with the sound of you screaming my name."

His smirk widened at my stunned expression before he straightened, turning toward the door.

"Let's leave."

I swallowed, reaching for the perfume bottle I had found in Madison's luggage. The scent was rich, heady—exactly the kind of fragrance Madison would wear.

I spritzed it against my wrists, dabbing it against my neck before following Julien out.

As I stepped into the hallway, my heels clicking against the polished floor, a single thought echoed in my mind.

Tonight is going to be a long one.