Unraveled by Her by Wendy Leigh Read Free Book Online Page A

published. An autobiography written as a means to an end,” she says.
    I’m speechless.
    She looks deep into my eyes and says, “Now ask me that same question again. Only this time, don’t ask me why I want to publish my autobiography. Ask me why I want to have it ghosted,” she says.
    I don’t give a fuck, Georgiana, I don’t want to ask you anything, I don’t want to look at you, to be with you, to smell the scent of violets for another second, or to sit here in this marble fun house and look at the casket inside which you are supposed to be. I just wish to God that you really were in there and dead and gone.
    â€œAsk it! Ask me the fucking question the way I told you to ask it, Miranda!” she says, and stamps her foot.
    â€œDon’t think you can bully me, because that definitely won’t get you what you want from me. Quite the reverse,” I say, and glare at her.
    A shot rings out as Tamara fires the Glock into a cushion just inches from my back.
    When I’ve stopped shaking, I square my shoulders.
    â€œAll right, Georgiana, you win. Here’s your fucking first question. Why do you want to have your autobiography ghosted?” I say.
    â€œThank you, Miranda. I’d be delighted to tell you,” she says, with a glowing smile.
    All of a sudden, against my will and despite the fact that she’s my mortal enemy, I can’t wait to hear her answer.
    â€œBecause I still love my husband and I want him back,” she says.

Chapter Five
    I’m white as a sheet, dumbstruck.
    â€œPour the silly goose a shot of whiskey,” Georgiana orders Tamara, who rushes to get me one.
    Then Georgiana turns to me.
    â€œIt’s very simple, my dear. Unless you ghost my autobiography to the very best of your considerable abilities, you will never see the light of day again.”
    â€œI’d rather die than be your ghostwriter,” I say.
    â€œThat can easily be arranged,” she says, and I’m reminded how dangerous she is. Not to mention Tamara.
    Then she gives me her glittering Lady Georgiana smile.
    â€œBut let’s not go there, shall we? Far better for us to remain good friends, don’t you agree?”
    I gawp at her in disbelief.
    â€œLet’s rise above all our differences and focus instead on our goals: producing an autobiography that will tell the real and heartwarming truth about me. The truth about my deprived childhood, the setbacks I faced throughout life, and—most important of all—how forces beyond my control conspired against me and on pain of death forced me to blackmail Robert,” she says.
    I am so shocked that I am suddenly unable to silence an unwelcome voice from the past: When in doubt, say nothing.
    â€œVery well, if that’s the way you want it,” she says when I fail to react to her words, shrugging her elegant shoulders.
    â€œLet me make this plain to you: I expect you to craft my autobiography in such a way that when Robert reads it, he’ll understand exactly who I am, what I am, why there was no alternative for me but to do what I did; that I deeply regret my actions; and that I want to make it all up to him. Then he’ll fall in love with me again, much deeper than before, and I’ll get him back,” she says.
    â€œBut what about me? Robert loves me!” I scream.
    â€œYou, my little lamb? You will be far too far away from him, and for far too long, for him to care about you anymore,” she says.
    She plans to make me ghost her autobiography, and then when I’m done, she’ll kill me!
    â€œSo why not get it over with and kill me right here and now?” I say.
    â€œBecause you haven’t even begun to outlive your usefulness to me yet,” she says.
    While I digest her latest threat, she jumps up and gets a silver hairbrush from the dresser.
    â€œYou look a trifle wan, Miranda, and your hair is frightfully matted,” she says, then proceeds to