ethical abyss it implied was momentarily overshadowed by a more pressing reality: survival in this lion's den came first. Answers about her mother-and thi

sat in a custom wheelchair. Her silver hair was pinned up f

Chanel haute couture jacket. She was staring a

sive emerald ring. She gestured for Caroline t

forced herself to walk forward. She gen

mplicated guilt crossed the old woman's eyes.

announced, her tone dripping with condescension. She waved a manicured hand in f

her posture straight. "It's bleach and street snow. Not every

Graydon, pouting her lips. "Graydon, are y

llar is still a stray," he said coldly, not even looking at Caroline. His words deliberately dismissed Matilda's shocking d

e gut. Her fingernails dug into her palms

the floor. The loud crack silenced the room.

ewelry box on her lap. She pulled out a heavy, anti

jealous rage. "That was Grandfather's! It's a fa

lly pushed the girl back onto the cushions. Tins

roline's attempt to pull away, the old woman

est. Wearing it was the price of Matilda's temporary protection and her only ticket to stay and find her mother. Refusing it me

way to his mouth. His sharp eyes locked onto the ruby

owering frame blocked the light from th

quite impressive," he murmu

. "It's called survival.

wly dragged down h

to the brutal grip he had used to wrench her away in the car garage hours earlier. For a split second, the sheer, unadulterated terror flashing deep in her eyes combined with this tangible evidence of their violent encounte

proof he could use against her. Worse, his intense scrutiny felt like it was seeing through her skin, perilously close

don's eyes narrow further. He took a step c

d a silver tea cart into the room.

rcelain cup filled with boiling hot Earl Grey tea. She took

red hands violently jerking the porcelain cup, sending the sca

olently twisted her torso to the left, do

directly onto Graydon's expensive l

ce fell ov

empty teacup slipped from her tremb

ants. His jaw locked. The temperatu