Ellen’s POV

The sound of Zeke’s voice halted their advance. I turned to see him approaching. His expression was unreadable, but I felt a wave of relief, masking it with composure. Seizing the opportunity, I walked past security without resistance; Zeke's presence would deter them.

As I approached, I felt his gaze pierce me. His eyes were complicated, and he reeked of alcohol. Reaching his side, I gently supported him, concern etched on my face. "Baby, what's wrong?" I asked softly, my voice laced with worry. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Before he could answer, I shook my head. "Forget it," I said firmly. "Let's get you home."

He subtly nodded. We left the casino through the private exit. I smiled gleefully. Stepping into the cool night air, I found his car, retrieved his keys, unlocked the door, and carefully guided him into the passenger seat before getting behind the wheel.

Seated inside, an idea struck me. I reached for Zeke's phone, dialed my number, and let it ring for a moment before hanging up. He'd deleted my number. I scoffed and saved it as "Ellen."

The drive back to the mansion was eerily silent, punctuated only by the engine hum and Zeke's occasional movements. Soon, we pulled up to the Reid mansion. His security and chauffeur arrived to escort him and park the car. They were shocked to see me.

"What?" I asked mockingly. "Are you going to stand there and wag your tongues like dogs, or do your damn jobs?"

With disgruntled responses, they helped Zeke out, and I handed the keys to the chauffeur. Entering the mansion, I paused, admiring the place I'd once ruled. "I'll be back soon," I murmured, and walked toward the stairs.

Ignoring the housekeepers' curious glances, I climbed the stairs to his room. The security men who'd helped bring him in stood guard at his door.

"What are you still doing here?" I asked disdainfully.

"We're sorry, Miss Manor, but we can't let you into the Master's room," they replied.

"I could leave, but you'll be responsible if he's not by my side in the morning," I said, starting to retreat.

The men looked confused. I smiled. "Mind your own damn business," I snapped. "Get back to work."

They let me pass. Entering the room, away from prying eyes, I sighed in relief. I went to the bed, stroked Zeke's face, and admired his features. He reached out. I feared he'd throw me out, but he did worse.

"I've missed you," he began. "Come back to me, Kamille." Anger flared. Why the fuck was he thinking about that dead hag?

But his next move quelled my anger. He drew me in and kissed me softly, but withdrew immediately. I frowned and played along.

"Yes, darling, it's me," I replied softly, my voice strained. "I've missed you so much."

But he pushed me away. "Get out, you're not her." His words stung, and I struggled to maintain my composure.

"What do you mean, Zeke? It's me, Kamille," I protested through gritted teeth, my voice trembling.

I never imagined I'd have to impersonate that dead witch to be in his arms. He'd already fallen asleep. Damn it, Zeke, I cursed.

I undressed him gently, then myself, and settled beside him, resting my head on his chest. By morning, he'd have no choice but to take me back.

Zeke’s POV

I slowly awoke, disoriented. Blinking, I saw a half-naked woman beside me, sending a jolt of alarm through me.

I sat up, rubbing my forehead to ease my hangover headache. Trying to recall the previous night, memories flickered—fragments of a shattered mirror. I remembered the dimly lit casino, the whiskey, and a blurred image of Kamille. We'd gone home together, I'd kissed her… but then I blanked out.

How was I here with this woman? Panic surged. I shifted, catching her profile.

Ellen!

Shock and disbelief washed over me. Her form was illuminated by morning light; her presence ignited fury. I shook her awake, my voice tight with anger. "Ellen," I spat, "what the hell are you doing here?"

She stirred, confused. My rage built. I jumped out of bed, grabbing my clothes. Turning to her, my eyes blazing, I said, "Get the fuck out of my room," I growled, "and don't you dare set foot in here again! Be gone before I return from the bathroom."

I stormed out. What did she think she was doing? I knew she'd return, but not like this.

After showering, I found Ellen dressed, her expression somber and contrite. Anger surged.

"Why are you still here, Ellen?" I demanded.

"Why are you so mean, Zeke?" she began. "You called me, made love to me, and now you want to throw me out?" Her words shocked me. Her voice was low, hurt, and rehearsed. I'd never sleep with her.

"What the hell are you talking about?" I asked, my eyes red with fury. "And don't you dare lie to me."

She swallowed, her eyes darting nervously. "I-I thought we had something last night," she stammered. "You called me, Zeke. You brought me here. We… we made love."

"Shut the fuck up!" I yelled, shoving her against the wall. Her words hit me like a punch. "Stop spewing things you can't prove."

"Check your phone. I'm not lying," she screamed.

Reluctantly, I checked my call log. I had called her. A chill coursed through me. But when did I save her number?

"This could be planted, and it changes nothing," I muttered. "Get the hell out of my sight!"

She argued, but I rang for security.

"Throw this garbage out of my house," I said with disdain.

She protested, but she was thrown out. Even so, I battled with my memory. I couldn't have slept with her, could I?