Chapter 3 The Assistant's Betrayal

The morning brings a disruption to our carefully choreographed routine. As I'm finishing breakfast on the terrace, the sound of tires on gravel announces an unexpected visitor. Gabriel, who's been increasingly agitated since our encounter at the mirror three nights ago, tenses visibly.

"I'm not expecting anyone," he mutters, more to himself than to me.

Mrs. Chen appears at the doorway. "Dr. Sterling, Ms. March is here to see you."

I straighten in my chair, curiosity piqued. Selene March—Gabriel's executive assistant whom I've met only twice before. Both times, she regarded me with a mixture of pity and disdain, clearly buying into Gabriel's narrative about my mental instability.

"Send her out," Gabriel says, running a hand through his hair. He turns to me. "Vivienne, perhaps you should—"

"Return to my room?" I finish for him, smiling sweetly. "Of course."

But before I can rise, Selene strides onto the terrace. She's striking in her efficiency—sleek dark hair pulled into a severe knot, tailored charcoal suit, expression cool and professional. Yet today, something about her manner seems different. More assertive.

"Dr. Sterling, I apologize for arriving unannounced, but there are urgent matters requiring your attention." Her eyes flick to me. "Good morning, Vivienne. You're looking well."

"Thank you," I reply softly. "It's nice to see you again."

Gabriel stands abruptly. "Vivienne was just leaving. We'll speak in my office, Selene."

I rise obediently but catch a curious exchange of glances between them—something tense and unspoken. As I pass Selene, she touches my arm lightly.

"Perhaps Vivienne should join us," she suggests. "This concerns her too."

Gabriel's jaw tightens. "That won't be necessary."

"Actually," Selene counters, "given the board's questions about her treatment plan, it might be beneficial to include her."

The mention of a "board" captures my attention immediately. Gabriel has always presented his practice as a solo endeavor, with various clinics operating under his sole authority.

"Board?" I echo, injecting confusion into my voice.

Gabriel shoots Selene a warning glare. "A formality. Nothing that concerns you."

"But it does concern her," Selene persists. "The review committee specifically asked about her progress reports."

I watch Gabriel's face carefully. A muscle twitches in his jaw—a tell I've come to recognize when he's backed into a corner.

"Fine," he concedes. "My office. Both of you."

As we follow him through the mansion's corridors, I catch Selene studying me with calculating eyes. She's playing some game of her own, and I need to understand her motives before she interferes with mine.

Gabriel's office is his sanctuary—mahogany desk, leather chairs, walls lined with medical texts and psychiatric journals bearing his name. He gestures for us to sit while he remains standing, a power play I recognize all too well.

"Now," he says tersely, "what's so urgent, Selene?"

She opens her sleek leather portfolio. "The board is concerned about the financial irregularities in the Sterling Institute accounts. Specifically, the private fund that supports—" she pauses, glancing at me, "—special cases like Vivienne's."

"Those accounts are confidential," Gabriel snaps.

"Not to the board of directors," Selene replies smoothly. "And not to me, as CFO."

This is new information. I've never heard Gabriel refer to Selene as anything but his assistant.

"CFO?" I ask, playing the innocent. "I thought you were Gabriel's assistant."

Selene's smile doesn't reach her eyes. "I wear many hats at Sterling Institute. Executive assistant, Chief Financial Officer... confidante." The last word carries a weight that doesn't escape me.

Gabriel's expression darkens. "Enough. What exactly does the board want?"

"Full documentation of Vivienne's treatment plan, progress reports, and justification for the significant resources allocated to her care." Selene turns to me with false sympathy. "They're concerned that keeping you here, isolated from proper medical facilities, may not be in your best interest."

"I'm getting better," I say quietly, playing my role. "Gabriel has helped me so much."

"Has he?" Selene asks, her tone gentle but probing. "Because the records show very little progress over five years. Some might question whether Dr. Sterling's methods are effective... or ethical."

Gabriel slams his hand on the desk. "My methods are beyond reproach! Vivienne's case is complex—"

"So complex that no other medical professional has been allowed to evaluate her?" Selene interrupts. "The board finds that troubling."

I watch this exchange with fascination. Selene is clearly making a power play, but to what end? Is she genuinely concerned about ethics, or is there something more calculated at work?

"Perhaps," I venture timidly, "I could speak with the board? Tell them how much Gabriel has helped me?"

Selene's eyes gleam with something that might be triumph. "That's an excellent suggestion. In fact, they've requested to meet with you."

"Absolutely not," Gabriel interjects. "Vivienne isn't stable enough for such an encounter."

"I feel stable," I counter gently. "Maybe it would be good for me. To talk to someone else about my progress."

Gabriel stares at me, betrayal evident in his eyes. I've never openly challenged him before, and this small rebellion clearly unnerves him.

"See?" Selene says. "She's willing. Unless there's some reason you don't want the board to speak with her directly?"

The implication hangs heavy in the air. Gabriel is trapped, and he knows it.

"When?" he asks finally, his voice tight.

"Tomorrow. They've arranged to come here, to minimize disruption to Vivienne's routine." Selene closes her portfolio with a snap of finality. "I'll handle all the arrangements."

After Selene leaves, Gabriel paces his office like a caged animal. I remain seated, watching him, waiting for the explosion I know is coming.

"What game are you playing?" he finally demands, rounding on me.

"Game?" I echo, eyes wide with manufactured innocence. "I just thought it might help your situation with the board."

"You have no idea what you've done," he hisses. "Selene March is not to be trusted."

"Why?" I ask. "She seems concerned about proper procedures. Isn't that good?"

Gabriel laughs bitterly. "Selene doesn't care about procedures or patients. She cares about power and money. And she's had her eye on my position for years."

This confirms my suspicions. Selene isn't motivated by ethical concerns—she wants control of the Sterling Institute, and apparently sees me as a means to that end.

"I'm sorry," I say, reaching for his hand. "I didn't realize. I was only trying to help."

He pulls away. "You've helped enough. Go to your room. I need to think."

That night, I hear voices from Gabriel's office. Pressing my ear to the door, I make out Selene's cool tones and Gabriel's increasingly agitated responses.

"The board doesn't exist, does it?" Gabriel accuses. "This is your play."

"There is a board," Selene replies calmly. "They're just... more aligned with my vision for the Institute than yours."

"And what vision is that?"

"Expansion. Research opportunities. Partnerships with pharmaceutical companies. The kind of growth you've resisted for years while you hide away in this mansion playing god with your personal project."

"Vivienne is not a project," Gabriel snarls. "She's—"

"What? A patient? A prisoner? A pet? Whatever she is, she's your weakness, Gabriel. And tomorrow, when my colleagues evaluate her, they'll find you unfit to continue as her physician. The conservatorship will transfer to the Institute—which, by then, I'll be running."

I retreat silently as the argument escalates. This is an unexpected complication, but potentially useful. Selene thinks she can use me as a pawn in her corporate takeover. Little does she know that I've been playing a much longer game.

The next morning, Gabriel comes to my room early, his face haggard from lack of sleep.

"Listen carefully," he says, sitting beside me on the bed. "Selene and her colleagues will try to manipulate you. They'll suggest I've been mistreating you, that you'd be better off under their care."

"But you've helped me," I say, taking his hand. This time, he doesn't pull away.

"Have I?" For a moment, doubt clouds his features. "Sometimes I wonder... if I've done more harm than good."

This vulnerability is new, and dangerous for him. I seize the opportunity.

"You saved me, Gabriel," I whisper, leaning closer. "You're the only one who understands me. The only one I trust."

His eyes meet mine, searching for deception and finding only what I want him to see—devotion, dependency, the perfect patient he's created in his mind.

"Whatever they ask," he says finally, "be careful with your answers. Selene wants control of the Institute, and she'll use you to get it."

"I won't let her," I promise, and for once, I'm telling the truth. Selene March is not going to interfere with my carefully orchestrated revenge.

Hours later, seated in the formal living room across from Selene and two stern-faced colleagues—a Dr. Reynolds and Dr. Patel, according to their introductions—I play the role of fragile patient with Oscar-worthy precision.

"Vivienne," Dr. Reynolds begins kindly, "we'd like to ask you some questions about your treatment here."

I nod timidly, eyes downcast.

"Has Dr. Sterling ever harmed you physically?" Dr. Patel asks bluntly.

"Never," I lie, ignoring the scars on my back from the early days. Those are part of a different narrative, one I'm saving for later.

"Do you feel safe here?" Selene inquires, her voice honey-sweet.

I look directly at her, allowing a flash of my true self to show through. "With Gabriel? Always. He's my protector."

Something in my gaze unsettles her; she shifts in her seat.

"And your medication regimen?" Dr. Reynolds continues. "Has it been consistent?"

"Gabriel adjusts it as needed," I say. "He's very attentive to my symptoms."

The questioning continues for an hour. I give nothing away, presenting as a grateful patient making slow but steady progress under Gabriel's expert care. By the end, Selene's frustration is palpable.

As they prepare to leave, I ask innocently, "Will you be taking me away from Gabriel?"

"That's not our intention today," Dr. Reynolds assures me.

"Good," I say with perfect sincerity. "Because I'm not finished with him yet."

Selene's head snaps up, catching the double meaning that sailed past her colleagues.

"What an unusual way to phrase it," she says carefully.

I smile blandly. "I just meant my treatment isn't complete."

After they leave, Gabriel appears in the doorway, tension evident in every line of his body.

"What happened?"

"I think I convinced them you're taking good care of me," I reply.

Relief washes over his features. "Thank you, Vivienne. I know we have our... difficulties sometimes, but I truly do want what's best for you."

"I know," I say, rising to stand before him. "And I want what's best for you too, Gabriel."

I reach up to touch his face gently. He freezes at the unexpected contact but doesn't pull away.

"Selene will try again," he warns, his voice suddenly hoarse.

"Let her try," I whisper. "We're stronger together, aren't we?"

The look in his eyes—confusion mixed with longing, suspicion battling with need—tells me everything I need to know. Gabriel Sterling, the man who locked me away to control me, is losing control himself. And in that loss, he's beginning to cling to me as his anchor in a world growing increasingly unstable.

The irony would be amusing if my hatred weren't so complete. But as I lower my hand and step back, I realize something unexpected is happening. Amid the calculated manipulation and carefully orchestrated revenge, a dangerous truth is emerging: part of me enjoys this twisted intimacy we're developing.

And that might be the most frightening development of all.