I keep my voice steady when I order Isabella into the examination room, but the scar across my palm throbs as she complies without protest. Her curves settle on the leather table while the door clicks shut, locking the narrow clinic corridor away from us. Her inheritance depends on my report, yet I can only think of turning this inspection into the punishment her yielding body seems to invite.
She fears abandonment the way I fear real exposure. Straps tighten at her wrists as my hand finds her bare hip, the protocol demanding what I have no right to take. The first strike waits in the air, one blow from destroying the doctor I pretend to be.
