Sidney Sheldon - Sidney Sheldon’s Mistress of the Game

The midwife, smiled. Well that was a turn-up for the books . Eve Blackwell had been so detached and hostile during the birth – quite frankly, she’d been an out and out bitch to the nursing team – they’d begun to suspect she didn’t want her baby. But obviously they’d misjudged her. The concern in Eve’s voice now was unmistakably genuine. She’s going to make a great mommy after all .

‘He’s right as rain Ms Blackwell. Here, you can see for yourself.’

Eve took the white bundle. Someone had cleaned the child up. The blood and the wax were gone. When she looked down Eve saw a small, olive-skinned face, topped with a crown of glossy, blue-black hair. The nose and mouth were baby-like and nondescript. But the enormous, dark brown eyes with their fringe of black lashes and steady, focused gaze; those were extraordinary. The boy looked up at her, silently scanning her face. To the rest of the world, Eve was a freak. To her baby, she was the universe.

Eve thought: He’s intelligent. Cunning, like a little gypsy .

She smiled, and though she knew it wasn’t meant to be possible, she could have sworn he smiled back.

‘Have you thought of a name for him yet?’

Eve didn’t even look up.

‘Max. His name is Max.’

It was a simple name, short, but to Eve it suggested strength. The boy would need strength if he was going to fulfill his purpose and avenge his mother.

Eve had conceived Keith Webster’s child for one reason and one reason only. Because she needed an accomplice. Someone who she could mould in her own image, feed with her own hatred and send out into the world to do all the things that she, a prisoner in her own home, could no longer do for herself.

Max would make Keith Webster pay for what he’d done to her.

Max would bring Kruger-Brent back to her.

Max would worship and adore and obey her, the way that men had always worshiped, adored and obeyed her, before Keith had robbed her of her looks.

‘Knock knock.’

Keith appeared at the door, bearing a huge bouquet of roses. Handing them to a nurse, he kissed Eve perfunctorily on the top of the head before taking his son in his arms.

‘He’s … he’s beautiful.’ His voice was choked. When he looked up, Eve saw that there were tears of joy streaming down his face. ‘Thank you, Eve. Thank you my darling. You’ve no idea what this … what he means to me.’

Eve smiled knowingly.

‘You’re welcome, Keith.’

And she sank into a contented, dreamless sleep.

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