The Maybach screeched to a halt in front of the Ortiz Manor.
Desmond dragged Ada out of the car by her wrist. He hauled her up the stone steps and threw her through the front doors.
Ada tripped over the edge of the Persian rug and crashed to the marble floor. Her elbow slammed into the sharp corner of a glass coffee table. She gasped, clutching her arm as a sharp, sickening pain radiated up to her shoulder.
Desmond stood over her. He reached into his jacket and threw a piece of paper onto the floor beside her face.
It was a medical transfer log from the California State Prison.
"Your brother Caleb was stabbed in the yard yesterday," Desmond said, his voice devoid of any human emotion. "He needs emergency surgery. If you ever try to run from me again, the warden will make sure the doctors never arrive."
Ada stared at the paper. The letters blurred as tears filled her eyes. Her brother was bleeding out in a prison yard because of her.
The last pillar of her resistance snapped. She lowered her head until her forehead touched the cold marble floor. "Please," she whispered brokenly. "I'll do whatever you want. Just save him."
Before Desmond could answer, the sound of light, rapid footsteps echoed from the top of the stairs.
"Desmond!" Jacklyn's voice was sweet and melodic.
She walked down the stairs, holding the hand of a little boy. He looked about three years old. He wore a tailored navy blue suit. He had dark hair and eyes that looked strikingly like Desmond's.
Jacklyn walked over and linked her arm through Desmond's. She looked down at Ada on the floor and let out a soft, mocking laugh. "Oh, is this the new maid? She looks a bit dirty."
The little boy, Jakob, let go of Jacklyn's hand. He walked curiously toward Ada, his big eyes staring at the scars on her face.
As the boy stepped closer, a strange, violent jolt hit Ada's chest. Her heart started beating in a frantic, irregular rhythm. A bizarre, magnetic pull drew her eyes to the child, a phantom ache blooming in her empty womb. She didn't know why, but looking at his small face, a wave of desperate, suffocating maternal instinct washed over her. Every cell in her body screamed that she knew this child. The memory of the delivery room hit her like a physical blow-the brief second she had felt her newborn's warmth before they told her he was dead.
"No..." Ada muttered. Her mind fractured under the weight of the impossible connection. She lunged forward and grabbed Jakob's small arm, pulling him closer to her face, her eyes frantically searching his terrified features. "What is your name? Who are you?"
Jakob screamed in terror, trying to pull his arm away. "Mommy!"
Smack!
Jacklyn's hand cracked across Ada's face with brutal force. The slap threw Ada sideways, her cheek burning with fire. Jacklyn snatched Jakob and hid him behind her legs.
Desmond grabbed Ada by the collar of her coat and hauled her to her feet, his face twisted in absolute fury. "Don't you ever touch my son again!"
Ada didn't feel the pain in her cheek. She pointed a shaking finger at the boy. "He's mine! Desmond, I can feel it! He's my baby! You stole him from me!"
Jacklyn's face paled for a fraction of a second, but she quickly masked it with a look of disgusted pity. "She's insane, Desmond. Prison made her lose her mind. She's projecting her dead bastard onto Jakob."
Desmond's grip on Ada's collar tightened until she choked. He looked at her with pure revulsion. "You disgust me. Using your dead affair baby to insult my heir."
He threw her back onto the floor. He looked at the head butler. "Take her to the servant's quarters. Put her in a uniform. She starts scrubbing the floors today."
Two guards grabbed Ada by the arms and dragged her away. She fought them, twisting her neck to keep her eyes locked on Jakob until the heavy oak doors slammed shut, cutting off her view.
In the cramped, windowless servant's room, the butler threw a scratchy gray uniform at her feet.
Ada collapsed onto the narrow cot. She pressed her hands against her mouth to muffle her sobs. Her mind was spinning. The birthmark. The timing. Jacklyn's fake pregnancy.
She bit down on her lip until she tasted blood. A tiny, dangerous spark of hope ignited in the ashes of her soul. She had to find out the truth. Even if it killed her.
