"What are you doing?" Avery screams, stumbling backward. Her back hits the oak tree's thick trunk. Escape is impossible.

"I'm sorry. I'm not a very good rider," Michelle says. She grinned wickedly as the horse bellows. "This horse isn't used to my riding style. I can't control it."

Avery keeps her back pressed against the tree. It's probably lucky this tree is here, she thinks. It'd be more dangerous if the horse could chase me across open space. As it is, Michelle might be reckless enough to try to trample me here.

Avery scans the lawn, searching desperately for Andrew. When she sees him, she wants to cry out in despair. He's far out of earshot, and he won't hear her screams for help.

"What? Do you think Andrew can help you?" Michelle laughs. "If it's Evan's child, Andrew will owe me a thank you for knocking it out of you."

"Don't do anything in a rush," Avery says as calmly as she can. "I'm warning you; you'll regret this."

"I can't help it," Michelle says. "How about you talk to the horse yourself?"

The gray horse whinnies fiercely and paws the ground. He's large and muscled, and a froth of sweat covers his coat. He's clearly angered by Michelle's tight grip on the reins, and he seems ready to take his anger out on Avery. Avery snaps a twig from the tree and waves it in front of the horse.

"Don't you dare," Michelle hisses.

If Avery manages to poke the horse, Michelle may lose control. The beast is already angry, and he could easily throw Michelle off his back. Worse, he could trample and kill her after she falls. Michelle yanks on the reins and tries to make the animal turn around. Slowly, the horse responds. As it turns around, Avery took a running leap and vaults onto the saddle in front of Michelle.

"Be on your best behavior if you don't want both of us to die," Avery says, grabbing the reins. The horse shudders and bucks under the additional weight, but Avery quickly calms it. Michelle clings tightly to Avery's waist.

"Aren't you afraid for your baby?" Michelle asks.

"I thought you wanted me to lose the baby," Avery says.

Avery digs her heels into the horse's sides and clicks her tongue. The horse immediately breaks into a gallop. The breeze whips her hair, and the trees seem to blur into dark shadows.

"Wow, you really know how to ride," Michelle says, somewhat grudgingly.

"Whoever said I didn't?" Avery asks. She grips the reins tightly and turns the animal toward the woods, spurring it faster. "I could make it go mad if I want to—we'll see who manages to stay on the longest."

"You mad woman!" Michelle shouts, tightening her grip on Avery, "You're going to crash into a tree!

"What do you think will happen if I stick this into the horse's side?" Avery asks, brandishing the sharp oak twig.

"I don't care what will happen to me," Michelle shouts. "But if you die, the baby dies too!"

"Wanna bet?" Avery asks, urging the horse even faster.

"What do you want from me?" Michelle shouts.

Avery suddenly jerks on the reins, and the horse reels back onto its hind legs. "I want to make a deal with you," she says. The horse lands with a jolt, and Michelle's weight slams into Avery's back, forcing her to double over on the horse's neck. Avery quickly straightens up.

"What kind of deal?" Michelle asks, panting in fright.

The horse breathes just as heavily, and it paces nervously on the dirt path. Avery takes a look around. Thick woods surround them on all sides. Satisfied that they're far enough from everyone, she turns to look at Michelle.

"You know Andrew's bodyguards quite well," Avery says. "I want you to arrange for one of them to escort me off the property and out of the forest."

"Why should I?" Michelle asks.

"You saw how Andrew taught Alice how to ride back there," Avery says. "I'm capable of giving you an opportunity to approach Andrew. If I can get him to spend time with a mere servant, just think about what I can do for you."

Michelle chews her lip, and Avery realizes it's going to take a lot more to overcome the years of tension between them. "You can say no, of course," Avery says, shrugging casually. "I know you don't really like me, and I can just as easily ask the other women."

Michelle thinks for a moment, "When do you want to go?"

"The sooner, the better," Avery says. She turns the horse around, and they gallop back along the dirt path.

Evan coughs roughly. The strong spirit burns his throat, but he grabs the bottle and poured more into his glass. He gulps the liquor down and tries to pour some more, but nothing comes out of the bottle. He throws the empty bottle across the darkroom, and it shatters against a bookshelf.

Robert rushes in without knocking, waving a paper in the air. "Sir, it's the fax from the clinic," he says, looking around the darkened room.

The study smells like stale alcohol, and Robert frowns and fans the air in front of his face. Evan lifts his eyes and looks at Robert. The judgment and concern on his butler's face said it all. Evan watches Robert stumble to the desk and click the lamp on. He dimly notices the butler place some sort of box next to the lamp.

"Sir, I have the results from the clinic and news about Mrs. Howel's gift," Robert repeats.

Evan stares blearily at Robert. The low light from the lamp burns his eyes, and there seem to be two or three separate Roberts standing side by side.

"Sir, do you hear me?" Robert asks. "The baby is yours."

"It's mine," Evan repeats. The words take a moment to register, but when they do, Evan feels a burning in his chest that has nothing to do with the scotch he's been drinking. He quickly reminds himself that it doesn't matter. So what if it's mine? He thinks. Avery was willing to get shot for Andrew. She's done nothing for me.

"Alcohol!" Evan roars. He craves the feeling of the burning liquid sliding down his throat, the dark stillness, the way it erases hours at a time.

"Sir, it's too early for that," Robert said, "Just think what Mrs. Howel would say if she knew you were drinking so early."

"She doesn't give a damn," Evan slurs, "She'd probably be thrilled to know I'm ruining myself. I bet she'd send a personalized thank you letter to Glenfiddich. Now bring me my damn alcohol!"

He swings his arm through the air, and the back of his hand smacks into the box next to the lamp. The box tips over and Avery's diorama crashes to the floor. The fall jostles the speakers, and Avery's voice begins to play.

"Evan, you fool, why don't you believe me?" her voice says. "I've only ever had one man: you. It was only you in the past, only you now, and it'll only be you in the future. Do you remember you asked me to hit you four times when the snake bit you? I didn't do it then, but I want to do it now. I want you to love me more than ever because I love you."

The sound of her voice seems to sober him. He looks at the fallen box with disbelief. The repaired speaker crackles, and the recording continues.

"I met Andrew for the first time in Pleasure City," her voice says, "He hid in the toilet stall to avoid some men who were looking for him. I happened to go into the same bathroom, and he forced me to cooperate and confuse the men searching for him. I have nothing else to do with him, believe it or not.

"You may wonder why I'm going to him, but it's because he's holding Gabby as a hostage. He said he'll release her if I agree to take her place. I don't know why. I wish I could tell you this, but I'm scared you'd do something to tip him off, and I can't risk Gabby's life like that. I'm sorry. If you ever hear this recording and believe me, please come and find me. The baby is ours. I want to have it."

The speakers crackle again and then go silent. Without Avery's voice, the study seems even more miserable than before. Evan wants to get up and reply to the message, but his legs don't work the way he wants them to. He looks helplessly at Robert.

"Sir, I told our tech team to enhance the voices in the Pleasure City video," Robert says, offering Evan a tablet. "Do you want to hear it?"

Evan makes no move to reach for the tablet. He doesn't really want to listen to Avery's pleasure Andrew again—the sounds already haunt his nightmares—but Robert is already pressing play. The sound is muffled and scratchy, but the words are distinct.

"Shout!" says Andrew's voice.

"Shout what?" Avery asks.

"Sex noises," Andrew says.

"Aren't you afraid it will draw their attention?"

"So what?" Andrew says, "At least I'm lucky to have a beauty die with me. What's your name?"

"Felicity Winter," Avery says.

When the sex noises begin, Evan almost loses it. He now knows that they're fake, but he can't get the images of Avery fucking Andrew in the bathroom stall out of his mind. Before he can ask Robert to stop it, he hears Avery moan his name. Evan shakes his head and presses his hand to his chest. "Replay the end," he croaks.

Robert rewinds the clip, and Evan hears Avery moan his name again. The sound pierces his heart. Even when she was pretending to fuck another man, she still said my name, he thinks. I can't believe I doubted her. I can't believe I refused to help her when she begged me to save her. He struggles to his feet and stumbles drunkenly out of the study.