CONTENT WARNING:
/This novel contains mature themes, explicit sexual content, strong language, and adult situations. Reader discretion is advised./


She was born to lie.
He was born to enjoy it.

Vivienne Moreau is a fox. A beautiful dangerous fox in a corset. A thief. A con artist. A seductress. She robs nobles blind, strips them of gold—and sometimes their trousers—just for fun. She sleeps with them to make the theft more… satisfying. Seduction? Her weapon. Theft? Her art. Lying? Second nature. Trust? Never. Love? That’s for fools. Chaos? Her favorite toy.

This is her last job. One château. One golden horse worth more than she’s ever dreamed. One chance to vanish forever. Rich and alone.

Her plan is simple: pretend to be a maid, steal the treasure, disappear. Easy. Simple. Foolproof.

Then she meets Duke André Rousseau. Calm as glass, handsome, harmless-looking—but mad, bored, terrifying… and completely insane in a way that smells like obsession. He knows she’s a thief before she even steps across the gates. Every lie she plans, every trick she schemes, every insane impulse—he sees it. And he decides to play.

He doesn’t want her arrested. He doesn’t want her caught. He wants her undone. To watch her spin, unravel, claw, scream—his predator turned prey.

Vivienne thinks she’s the hunter. That she’s untouchable. That she’s in control.

She isn’t.

She’s his game. His obsession. His chaos made flesh. And in this war of greed, madness, and teeth-bared games… someone will break.

Maybe her... Maybe him... Maybe both.

Vivienne's heart was pounding, and her brain was screaming in pure, unfiltered chaos. She wanted to strangle him with the book, throw it at his face, scream every swear word known to man, god, and demon, and then invent a few more curses just to make sure he understood how much she wanted to rip him limb from limb. In her head, she was already shouting, "You bastard! You demon! You filthy, obsession-driven maniac! I hope someone ties you up in the stocks, shoves you into freezing water, flogs your back with chains until you beg for death, dangles you by your ankles over a pit of screaming rats, and then feeds you nothing but bitter herbs until your tongue falls off!"


Chapter 60 - The Child