He reached for my hand and held it as we walked through the corridors on our way to ICU. I spotted Val first. We hadn’t seen one another since Sunday afternoon. Until our eyes met, I hadn’t realized how much I had missed her: three days were suddenly a lifetime. Her puffy eyes met mine.

As soon as they did, our mother’s gaze followed Val’s, and Marilyn stood. Years of being a judgmental bitch came into practice. It took her only a second to scan me: my new clothes, hair, and engagement ring. Almost instantly, her neck straightened. I held tightly to Stewart’s hand, knowing without a doubt that he was the only thing keeping her from telling me exactly what she thought.

With more decorum than I knew she possessed, she took a step toward us. “Mr. Harrington, please allow me to speak to my daughter in private.”

He looked possessively in my direction. I didn’t want to let go of his hand, but I knew I should. Before I spoke, Stewart did. “Mrs. Sound, how is your husband?”

“He’s in critical condition. There isn’t anything they can do, but wait.”

“Mother?” I asked, “What happened?”

“It was a heart attack. The doctors believe it was brought on by stress.” Her last sentence dripped with accusation. Nevertheless, my lungs took in a much-needed breath as the tension left Stewart’s grip. It hadn’t been an accident. Nodding to Stewart, I let go of his hand and walked toward my mother. Abruptly, she turned and led me to a small family-consultation room. Once we were alone, she turned, striking like a viper.

“Are you happy? Is this what you wanted? Look at you, dressed like damn arm candy, with that giant rock on your finger. Do you think Randall told Mr. Harrington about you so you could reap the benefits and leave us out to dry? Where’s your sense of loyalty after all that Randall has done for you? You and your selfish ways did this! You can’t stand to see me happy, can you? You have to ruin every relationship I’ve ever had.”

Though her icy tone dripped with hatred and accusation, I tried for more information on Randall. “What’s his prognosis?”

“Do you even care?”

The fire in my veins melted the ice she sent my way. “Do I even care?”

“Maybe I should warn Mr. Harrington,” Mother said, her volume low and threatening. “I should warn him what a deadly bitch he’s dressing up for his arm. Everyone you touch dies: everyone who’s naïve enough to get close. Even his money won’t protect him from you.”

“Are you listening to yourself? You fucking sold me without so much as a warning or regret.”

“I should have known it would take something of more value to help us.”

I clenched my jaw and willed my tears to stay at bay. Beyond the glass panel of the closed door I spotted Stewart. He was standing in the perfect place, leaning against a wall, and looking directly at me. His presence gave me strength. I lowered my tone. “Randall’s debt is paid. It has been since Monday afternoon. His current crisis is the result of his fucking addiction and yours. You’ve made your decision. Don’t contact me again—ever.” My eyes left hers and found Stewart’s. He stood straight and walked in my direction.

Dumbfounded at my outburst, Marilyn Sound glared at me. As she collected her thoughts, Stewart opened the door causing her to spin, suddenly muted by his presence. Rallying my strength, I said, “Marilyn, this is Stewart Harrington. I believe you have something to say to him.”

Her eyes opened wide.

Turning toward Stewart, I continued, “Stewart, my mother would like to thank you for saving their asses.”

I had the choice to concentrate on her icy glare or his smirk. I chose his smirk.

Marilyn extended her hand. “Thank you, Mr. Harrington. From the rock on my daughter’s finger, I presume congratulations are in order.”

“Mrs. Sound, I expect you to heed my earlier warning, and as for congratulations, yes. We’re saddened that you and Dr. Sound will be unable to attend the festivities; however, it appears that your attention will be needed and welcomed elsewhere.” He reached out to me. “Victoria, I believe we need to leave.”

Reaching for Stewart’s hand, I looked toward my mother. “Give Randall my regards. Oh, and let him know I said you’re welcome.”

My emotions stayed in check until we made it to the car. At that point, everything bubbled out: years of humiliation, of being a disappointment, and of being unwanted. As I collapsed into Stewart’s embrace, I whispered, “Please, I’m begging.”

Pushing me slightly away, Stewart looked down into my tear-filled eyes. “Victoria?”

“Please take me home. I need you to make me forget. I need you inside of me.”

Raising his voice, he commanded, “Travis, take Miss Conway and me back to the apartment.”

I held tightly to his hand as he walked me to the master bedroom, on the first floor of the penthouse. It had the same floor-to-ceiling windows as the living room, filling the massive space with natural light. Pulling me close, Stewart demanded, “Say it. I need to hear it.”

“Please, please…” Unabashed, I fell to my knees. “I’m begging you to make me forget. I’m begging you for your cock. I need you inside of me.”

“Victoria?”

I looked up at the massive, powerful man before me. Offering me his hand, he said, “Stand up.”

I did, though on trembling knees.

“That, my darling, will be the first and the last time you’ll ever beg. Do you understand?”