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I don’t take my eyes off the man’s movements. “What kind of confirmation are you looking for?” I ask, knowing he won’t answer me.

“I must say.” My eyes fly to his when the squish of leather sounds. He moves closer. “You are quite beautiful. Exquisite, really, though you don’t seem to know it.” His voice lowers. “Perhaps that’s the key though, hm? A quiet beauty so loud it seizes every soul on sight. That is what’s happened here, isn’t it? All those around you have fallen for the allure.” His eyes trace over me and my stomach turns. “I bet she hates you for it, your beauty...” He trails off and I frown. “Likely even told you otherwise your entire life?”

“You know her.”

He ignores me again. “Shame really, when you could have been loved and fawned over, reminded of your perfection every day. Raised like the princess you were meant to be.”

I frown at the fascination he boldly shows.

“Tell me, sweet Raven. Has he told you yet?” He tilts his head. “Rolland, I mean.”

Shit. He knows.

“Last night.” Donley’s eyes harden. “When he got home, did he tell you I’d be paying you a visit?”

I open my mouth but nothing comes out and he clicks his tongue, sitting back.

“Shame, I told him patience wasn’t on the menu.”

Wait. What?

“You talked to him?”

“Had lunch with him even, before he went home.”

Rolland lied.

“Tell me, are you a virgin?” Donley asks.

Panic fights its way up my throat, but I force it back. “Fuck you.”

He sighs, lifting a hand to the man at my feet. “Defiant, just like her,” he muses to himself.

The man at my feet moves to the floorboard. Propped up on his knees, he scoops his arms under me and pulls until my back hits the carpet beside him.

I try to scream, but it comes out as a rough whisper at best, and I watch, horrified, as the man unbuttons my jeans and yanks them down, freeing one of my legs. He pulls at my underwear next.

“Don’t touch me!” I hiss, but I’m ignored as he positions my feet so they’re planted flat against the floor, my knees up. “I’m not—”

“Stop speaking,” Donley cuts me off. “You had a chance.”

I grind my teeth together.

This asshole, he thinks I’m some dumb girl because he caught me slipping – never again.

Collins’ mom, Estella, looks out the window as I’m spread open right here at her heels.

“Don’t fight and it shall be quick.” Donley turns to Estella, who passes him a fresh drink without turning his way. “Doc?”

My eyes squeeze shut, and I think I feel moisture build at my lashes as pressure hits in my pelvic area, but I feel nothing other than disgust.

Only the weak cry.

“Doc,” Donley barks.

The doctor clears his throat, but even still, there is a slight hesitation before he speaks. “Hymen has been broken, sir. She is debased. And ... swollen, so recently active.” He clears his throat again, his troubled frown shifting away from the three of us.

Donley sighs, and I force my eyes to meet his. “I guess it’s to be expected with a mother like yours.” He downs his shot, not looking away. “The blood sample will confirm what I already know, which is I’m staring at the very last of the Brayshaw bloodline.” He blinks. “Well, besides Ravina, of course, but she’s not much use to anyone, now is she?”

“I ... huh?”

“That’s right.” He studies me. “Your mother is none other than Ravina Brayshaw, one and only child of Raymond Brayshaw. You, dear girl, are Brayshaw born, Brayshaw blood.” He slips on his suit jacket and reaches for the handle. “Fix her clothes and get the hell out of here. Won’t be long before her fight’s back and she puts you on your ass, Doc.”

And then he’s gone.

The doctor quickly slips my underwear, jeans, and shoes back on.

When his hand comes up to touch my cheek, I croak, “No!”

I jerk, managing to move my shoulders slightly, but he quickly pulls back, looking down at me.

Distress lines his aged eyes. “I’m not going to hurt you, Ms. Brayshaw. In fact, I find myself in quite a predicament at the moment.”

“Yeah?” I rasp, trying with everything I have to push from the floor, but I only manage to scoot an inch left. “And what’s that? You realize you’re now a dead man walking?”

“No, miss.” He shakes his head. “I find an impossible decision in front of my eyes, one that, if the wrong move is made, will be the end of my life. But the other ... will lead to the loss of another’s. An innocent,” he whispers. His eyes implore mine, an urgency in his that has sweat building at my hairline. “Tell me, miss, what shall I do?”

I clamp my teeth together, speaking through them, “Leave.”

With a grim smile, he sets an envelope near my head, patting it lightly. “You’re proof, Ms. Brayshaw. And once you’ve figured out the secret we now share, you may seek me out, should you wish. You’ll know where to find me.”

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