His Fathers's Ring, His Son's Touch

ra'

ng I felt was

d beneath me was so soft it felt like it might swallow me whole. I sat up abruptly, a sharp ache throbbing

esterday, though they had been dried and presse

I whispered, m

allway was a gallery of polished wood and oil paintings. As I reached the top of the grand stairca

rail. In the foyer, a massive portrait hung above

m a forehead that suggested a sharp, calculating intellect. His jawline was a jagged edge, and his shoulders were broa

and that was when I saw it. On a side tabl

ca

nearly

ouse. What was I d

finall

't done him justice. He wasn't wearing a suit now. He wore a black, sleeveless cotton shirt that clung to his hard chest and

the one tha

o," I stammered,

ice deep. He walked toward me. "I'm Victor. And you're in n

uickly. I couldn't be here. Not especially

felt his gaze on my back, a hot, prickling sensation that didn't fad

p myself. I turned back. Victor was standing in front of the mansion, his

. Handerson to beg for another chance. Th

ar the entrance-Mr. Henderson. He w

ed at me with a sneer of pure disgust. "I tho

eally need this job." I pleaded, my voice breaki

He was known as a rude and mean man, but I didn't care at this point. I thought he w

he cleaning crew will be gone. We'll see if yo

a flicker

and shadows. I had seen a file-of a private patient that should have stayed buried. They had tri

dark, the only light coming from the flo

ice. He was sitting behind his mahoga

Amara," h

ard sitting o

ld react, he had gripped my upper arms, his fingers digging into my skin with

, his weight heavy and suffocating. He sme

ing against his chest.

skirt, his other hand pinning my wrists above my head. His lips on t

looked at me with such lust before. My hand failed out, searching for anything, and my fingers

think.

*thud*. He groaned, his grip loosening as he slumped to the si

rs and hitting the floor with a hard thud, shattering into

at the red pooling around his he