Sidney Sheldon's Mistress of the Game Read Online Free PDF

expected that. But now she saw things clearly. He’d had to do it. He had no choice. As long as Eve remained so mesmerizingly, intoxicatingly beautiful, he was at risk of losing her. Losing her to other, less worthy men, men who could never love her the way he did. Men like George Mellis, who had once beaten Eve so badly she had almost died. Keith Webster had restored her looks after that attack. It was the day they met. Eve had been so deliciously grateful afterward, he’d fallen in love with her on the spot.

    But what Keith Webster giveth, Keith Webster could also taketh away.
    It was a lesson Eve needed to learn.
    Others might find his wife’s grotesquely scarred features repellent, but not Keith Webster. In his eyes, Eve would always be beautiful. The most beautiful creature on earth.
    Keith Webster had no illusions about his own appearance. When he looked in the mirror, he saw a slight, shortsighted man with only a few wisps of sandy hair left clinging to his otherwise bald head, like seaweed on a bare rock. Women had never been interested in him, period, never mind women as insanely attractive as Eve Blackwell. He’d felt no compunction about blackmailing Eve into marriage (Keith knew she had murdered George Mellis and threatened to go to the police if she didn’t marry him) and he felt no guilt about it now. After all, how else was he supposed to possess her? To fulfill her destiny, and his own?
    Once again, Eve had given him no choice.
    Resting a loving hand on her baby bump, Keith felt replete with happiness. Terrified of being photographed and ridiculed like a carnival sideshow, Eve had become a virtual prisoner in their penthouse apartment since he “re-created” her, as he liked to think of it. With nothing to do with the long, lonely hours of her existence but cater to his every whim, she had finally capitulated and given Keith the one thing he desired above all others: a baby, their baby, a living, breathing affirmation of their love.
    What more could any man ask for?
    She’d had a rotten pregnancy, poor thing, with violent bouts of morning sickness throughout. Although Keith knew there had never been much love lost between his wife and her twin sister, he was sure that Alexandra’s sudden death must have frightened Eve.
    Still, only a few weeks to go now.
    Bending his head reverently, he kissed his wife’s belly, murmuring endearments to his unborn child.
    Soon the baby would be born. Then all their troubles would be over, the pain of the past forgotten.
     
    Eve’s labor was long and agonizing. While the press huddled like baying bloodhounds beneath her hospital window, Eve spent sixteen grueling hours feeling her body being ripped apart from within.

    “Are you sure you won’t consider a pain killer, Mrs. Webster? A shot of Pethidine would really take the edge off your contractions.”
    “My name is Blackwell,” Eve hissed between clenched teeth. “And no.”
    Eve was adamant. No drugs. No relief. She had conceived this child to wreak her vengeance, to bring righteous suffering to her enemies and to reclaim her stolen inheritance: Kruger-Brent. It was right that he should be born from suffering. That the first sound he heard should be his mother’s screams.
    If she didn’t despise him so intensely, Eve might almost have felt sorry for Keith Webster. The pathetic, inadequate milquetoast she’d been trapped into marrying actually believed she was happy to be having his child! Hovering over her like an old maid, full of pity for her morning sickness…except it wasn’t morning sickness at all. Eve’s violent bouts of vomiting were triggered by pure revulsion. The very idea of Keith’s seed growing inside her was enough to make her retch.
    True, she had allowed him to impregnate her. This baby was no mistake.
    He thinks I conceived out of love.
    Eve laughed aloud. The arrogance of Keith’s madness knew no limits.
    The truth was that Eve Blackwell hated her husband. Hated him with a