To Buy Her Love

Daphne was a clever little witch, he'd give her that. She'd charmed his friends and made him fall in love with her, all the while using his name and bank account to climb the social ladder.

He'd been blissfully unaware of her schemes until that one fateful night that she'd come home particularly late from work. When he asked where she had been, she'd announced that she'd been having dinner with Charles Waldren, a well-known movie producer. Waldren had promised her a movie contract with a fat allowance.

She had told him that she was leaving him.

At first it hadn't made sense.

"Have I made you unhappy?" he'd asked, unable to think of another reason why she should leave him. He provided well enough and if their sex life was any indication, he thought they were happily in love.

She'd laughed at him then, a true, deep-bellied laugh.

"Darling, you got me where I am today!" she had exclaimed, appearing hapier than he'd ever seen her. "You're a good man," she'd told him, patting him on the shoulder as she'd sidled past him to go pack her things.

His friends had been shocked when he'd told them. None of them had ever expected that she was using him.

She had fooled them all, and he was going to make her pay for it.

He'd not given the paparazzi any further ammunition than she had about their breakup, though he was angry enough that he'd wanted to call her every horrible name in the book. He'd been respectful of her then, opting for a simple 'no comment' whenever he was asked about it.

His revenge would ahve to be a very delicate process.

For months, he'd waited in silence for her to finish shooting on that movie Charles Waldren had contracted her for. He'd read about er and sometimes even himself in the tabloids from time to time, watching from afar.

When the invitation to the premier arrived in his letter box, James knew what he was going to do. The very instant his fingers brushed against the fine paper, the whole scene flashed before his eyes.

He was finally going to do it.

The night of the premier, he dresses up in the suit and bow tie that is proper for any upstanding gentleman in the picture business. He slips the diamond necklace he'd gotten for her to celebrate their a\nniversary, that would have been a month after she left him, into his jacket pocket and calls for his driver to prepare the car.

He is beside himself with anticipation.

His driver gives him a questioning look through the mirror when he tells him to head to the marquee. He smiles at him amiably, playing the part of a perfectly respectful ex boyfriend willing to forgive and support the star on her big day.

He arrives at the premier half an hour early and is so well known that he doesn't even have to flash his invitation to the door man.

He grins in malice, they wouldn't know what hit them.

"I'm here to congratulate the star," he tells the man that grants him access to the backstage. The man has sympathy in his eyes, probably recognizing him from the tabloids and thinking he was there to win her back.

When he sees her, sitting in front of a large mirror and checking her makeup while chatting with one of her co-stars, his heart catches in his throat and he wonders if that's not his plan at all.

His steps are slow and calculated until he stands in front of the mirror, staring down at her through it. She smiles up at him, all pearly whites and stars in her big blue eyes.

"James!" she almost squeals, turning in her chair to truly smile up at him. "Darling, when I put you on the invitation list, I didn't expect you to actually come see me!"

He grins down at her, loving his name on her lips. "I had to congratulate the star," he tells her, producing the glimmering necklace from his jacket pocket.

He holds it up in front of her eyes, watching closely as her guard drops and her fingers begin to ache to grab the diamods. "Assuming you're not already going to be decked from head to toe in them," he jokes.

Daphne flashes her co-star and makeup artist her famous 'run along now children, mummy and daddy are talking glare that turns into a grin when they get the hint and scuttle off to bother someone else.

"The necklace is quite lovely," she admits, returning her gaze to his own. "But if I accept it, James," her smile turns into a slight frown, "You must promise not to take it as any sort of sign that our relationship might be rekindled."

"Of course." His anger and hatred return to the surface, but he manages to retain an impossibly fake smile.

Her whole face lights up when she realizes that he's not going to walk away and take the diamonds with him, she turns to face the mirror again and lifts her dark hair away from her neck, "Darling, would you?"

His hands are nearly shaking as he raises the necklace to her neck. "The sapphires match your eyes," he tells her as the stones come to rest against her collar bone.

She smiles at him, "A bit tighter, if you will."

Gladly, he thinks, pulling the diamonds p closer to her throat. "I spent months looking through jewelery shops to pick this out for you."

Her brows furrow together before lifting into a look of realization, "You bought these for our anniversary?" she questions, pointing to the diamonds at her throat.

James nods, flashing her a small smile, "I wanted to get you something fit for a queen... this particular piece reminded me more of you than a tiara, though."

Her pearly whites are beaming up at him again and he chooses the moment to tighten the diamonds against her throat. "You know, Daphne, I was going to ask you to be my wife."

Glancing around the room, he is grateful that no one is watching them closely and that most of the cat had decided to clear off. They'd been impressed with the diamonds they'd seen him dangle in front of her face and expected that the two would need a bit of privacy.

Daphne's hands are scratching at her throat now, her fingers trying desperately to wiggle their way under the necklace so that she could break the chain. Her windpipe is blocked and any sounds of alarm she might have otherwise put off were dead in her throat.

Watching her chest heave up and down, wildly trying to get more oxygen into her lungs, makes an all too familiar warmth spark in his loins.

"I wanted you to have my children," he whispers into her ear, inhaling the scent of her hair deeply as he pulls the necklace tighter against her throat.

Tears are streaming down her face now and she is trying her best to kick and scratch at him, but her limbs are slow and useless against him.

He tightens the diamonds one last time and whispers, "I thought you loved me," as a look of regret passes through her eyes before the light goes out in them.

He releases the diamonds and lets her lifeless body fall to the ground, all the while grinning like a mad fool.

He has done it!

He has gotten rid of Daphne Williams!

His revenge is complete!

Even as the police carted him away in handcuffs vowing to lock him up for the rest of his life, he cannot repress a smile.