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The 5D image slid off the screen and it felt like my hopes that this could be resolved easily slid off too.

But still I tried to get through to him.

“I promise that is your baby! I have not been unfaithful. There must be some mistake.”

Étienne shook his head.

“Faustine,” my husband said, and the sound of her name in his mouth made me so jealous. Why did it sound so low and sensual?

“My wife,” he spat the words like they were a curse, “claims the paternity test must be wrong. Can you go with the doctor and ask them to run the sample again? See if there’s any possibility there was a mistake.”

The tone of his voice made it obvious he thought it was a ridiculous idea.

“Can I see the test?” I asked. “I want to figure out what must have happened.”

“I’ll take that,” Faustine said as she snatched it from the table. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure there was no mistake.”

“But—” I protested as I met her eyes.

“Come with me,” Étienne interrupted, jerking his head to the door, and I was left to get off the table by myself and stumble after him.

Faustine had a little smile on her scarlet red lips as we left, and I had a sinking, horrible feeling that she would do anything but fix this mess.

How could I trust she would even do what my husband had asked?

“The samples—they must have been mixed,” I babbled on as Étienne, Placidie, and I got in the SUV. “Or—maybe they did his cheek swab wrong.”

“How did that other dick feel in your mouth?” Étienne snarled coldly as he spun the big vehicle out of the parking lot, and I knew, could feel in my bones, where he was going, his ever-present security following along behind. “Did you take off your ring or did he fuck you in the ass knowing you’re married?”

“Étienne, please—stop!” I cried, tears blurring my vision as he drove down the mountain roads. “If you would just let me explain⁠—”

The set of his face was void and expressionless. Étienne did not show emotion unless he desired to. I should know that very well.

“You and this bastard baby are going somewhere while I decide what to do with you.”

We drove down the winding roads, down low into the valley, and I began to get increasingly frightened the lower we got. This was a long way from my husband. From my home.

Finally, we pulled up to a high gate, its iron bars overgrown with thick ivy, and Étienne got out, ripping the ivy away. Then without a glance back at me, he flicked open a black box and rapidly punched in a code.

The doors swung open and I began to see men emerge from the shadows, men with sharp knives, who nodded to Étienne and fell in silently behind us.

The driveway was long and overgrown too, and we emerged from fields of wildflowers to an old-fashioned wooden lodge lying silent and dark in the shadows of the mountains.

No lights glowed from within. The entire place looked abandoned and dark.

And it dawned on me. My husband was planning on imprisoning me here.

“Get out,” he bit.

“Don’t leave me here,” I begged, unbuckling my seatbelt with trembling fingers. “Please don’t leave me here. Give me a c-chance, Étienne, to explain⁠—”

“Give me your ring,” he demanded.

“M-my ring, no, please⁠—”

“Your ring or I’ll take it from you.”

His jaw was set and rock-hard.