“It’s okay, Rae,” Vienna whispers. “It’s just a little Special K. And he promised not to hurt you.”

“She’s stirring, should I inject her again?”

I frown, my eyes slowly fluttering open. It takes a few moments for me to regain focus and when I do, my eyes land on a window at first.

I blink a few times, but it doesn’t do much to help.

My head starts pounding and I move to lift my hand to it in reflex, but it doesn’t budge.

Right then, a deep chuckle hits my ears, and my eyes dart around, spotting a silver-haired man sitting opposite of me, a Stepford wife look-alike at his side, but when I blink she becomes clearer.

Collins’ maid?

I try to tilt my head, that’s when I realize I’m lying flat, my back parallel with the seat as they sit right side up.

I move to shoot upward, but my limbs won’t work.

“Where the hell am I? Who the hell are you?”

The man grins, his age showing in the crow’s feet framing his eyes. He tips his head. “Well, hello to you, too.”

“Sir, shall I inject her again?”

That has my eyes snapping down, looking over my body I spot someone sitting by my feet – another man.

“Was I unclear?” the silver-haired man asks in a firm voice. “I told you, bare minimum, I need her speaking.”

“Where the hell am I?!” I shout, but it comes out muffled and sluggish.

He speaks to the man again but keeps his eyes on me. “Continue, Doc.” He grins, folding his hands in front of him. “You’re in the back of my limo, of course. A bit cliché, if you ask me, I prefer a town car, but I needed the space for today’s adventure.”

The man, who’s maybe mid-fifties, leans closer. “Do you know who I am?”

“A piece of shit.”

He lifts his hands as if he agrees. “My name is Donley Graven, and this is the less than spectacular and of no importance or strength, Estella Graven.” He motions to the woman at his side who doesn’t speak. He sits back in his seat and lights a cigar while the man pulls the needle from my arm and situates himself.

“Collins’ maid,” I rasp.

Donley nods. “Yes, and his mother.”

“He got less than he deserved.”

The woman says nothing but Donley chuckles. “I bet.”

“What do you ...” I swallow past the dryness in my throat. “What do you want from me?”

“Confirmation,” he says flatly.

The thin man by my feet drops down to his knees beside me and I stare as he pushes up my sleeve, ties a knot just above my elbow, and slides a needle into my arm with ease.

My breathing speeds up as blood spills into the tube at the end.

“Don’t panic,” Donley tells me. “It’s just a little blood, Brayshaw. If what I heard is correct, you are quite fond of it on a normal day.”

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.”