"Leonie, we can get a paternity test when the baby is bigger," Fiona says, stroking Leonie's hair.

Leonie jerks away from her mother. She grabs Fiona's wrist and watches the woman froze in shock and fear. Fiona's right eyelid twitches with a nervous tic. Leonie wants to slap her mother across her stupid, scared face.

"Are you saying you don't believe me?" Leonie screams. "Evan is my baby's father! I'd never let that son of a bitch in there even touch me."

"Of course I believe you, dear," Fiona says.

Gabrielle crouches behind a door, watching Mrs. Meyer. The elegant woman looks pale, and her dark, knee-length dress is wrinkled. On the one hand, she twists a tissue over and over until the paper begins to dissolve into little shreds. A team of armed bodyguards stands outside the door to Charles' private room, and a team of six nurses wait for any emergency.

Gabrielle isn't surprised that Charles is receiving such good care—the Meyer family owns St. Teresa hospital, after all. Mrs. Meyer sniffles and shakes her head quickly as she talks to a young doctor in a white coat.

"It can't be the only way," Mrs. Meyer says. "What if someone in the family gave him a heart? I'd be willing to give him mine. I'd do anything to save his life, and I swear I would."

The doctor shakes his head firmly and says, "I'm afraid it has to be his own heart, Mrs. Meyer. A family member's DNA is still too different to make a good match. Besides, you know as well as I do that it's illegal to take a living person's organs."

Mrs. Meyer leans heavily against the wall, and tears roll down her face. Jackson Oliver races over and wraps his long arm around her shaking shoulders.

"Let's find you a place to sit down," Jackson says quietly.

"The doctor says he'll die unless he gets his own heart back," Mrs. Meyer says to Jackson. "But Mr. Clifford has his heart—and there's no way we'll be able to get it back from him. I can't sit down when my poor son is in there dying."

Jackson winces, and Gabrielle notices that he looks tired and pale. His normally carefree expression has been replaced by a worried look, and his wavy hair looks greasy and unwashed.

"Why are the Howel so cruel?" Mrs. Meyer asks. "What did poor Charles ever do to deserve this? Oh, Evan is a monster!"

She crumples into Jackson's arms and begins to weep. Her entire body shakes and rocks, but Jackson stays calm, gently supporting her. Slowly, he lifts her and carries her to a chair, and then he reaches into his pocket and passes her a fresh tissue. She cries harder, and he slams his fist into the drywall.

"I swear to God, Evan, you have it coming," Jackson shouts, brushing white dust from his knuckles. "This is the beginning of your end."

Gabrielle shakes and presses her back more firmly into the wall. Jackson's rage terrifies her, and she has no idea what he might do if he sees her spying on him. She chews the inside of her lip and slowly peeks around the door again.

"The Howel are very strong," Mrs. Meyer says with a sob. "I'm afraid there's nothing we can do."

"We can attack Evan in secret," Jackson says. "Besides, he has a very obvious weakness: Avery."

Something hard slams into Gabrielle's back. Gabrielle jumps, and there's a loud crashing sound. A tray full of saline and needles goes clattering to the floor, and the nurse who dropped the tray glares at Gabrielle. Jackson's head whipped around, and his eyes flash as he sees Gabrielle. She turns on her heel and sprints down the long corridor. She hears Jackson running behind her, and she pushes herself to go even faster, but she's no match for his long legs.

"Were you eavesdropping on our conversation?" Jackson asks, grabbing her arm.

"I didn't mean to," Gabrielle says. "I was just passing through the corridor, and then I saw you and didn't want to interrupt."

"What did you hear?" Jackson asks, glaring down at her.

"Nothing at all," Gabrielle says. "I just heard my older sister's name. I swear that's it."

Jackson twists her arm and says, "I don't believe you."

"I swear, I didn't hear anything," Gabrielle says. "Well, actually, it sounded like you wanted to hurt my sister. You wouldn't dare, would you?"

"Do you want to bet on that?" Jackson asks, narrowing his eyes at her.

"I'm warning you if you dare to hurt my sister I'll—I'll."

"You'll what?" Jackson asks with a sneer.

"Well, Evan will protect her," Gabrielle says lamely, wishing she could think of a real threat.

Jackson laughs and lets go of her arm. She rubs the skin and wonders if his fingers leave bruises. As she turns to go, she hears a nurse shouting her name.

"Oh, there you are, Miss Peters, I swear I've been trying to find you for at least half an hour," the nurse says. "I have your test results here."

Gabrielle grabbed the papers and quickly folds them in half. She tries to stuff them into her pocket, but Jackson snatches her arm back and pries her fingers open. He looks at the paper and squints with confusion. The nurse tries to grab the papers away from him, but he winks at her, and she blushes. Gabrielle wants to smack both of them.

"I don't understand what this paper means," Jackson says. "Would you mind explaining it to me?"

"Oh, um, well, it's supposed to be confidential," the nurse stammers.

"Oh, Gabrielle and I are old friends," Jackson says with another wink. "You can tell me, and I promise I can keep a secret."

"It's Miss Peters pregnancy test," the nurse says.

"Pregnancy test?" Jackson asks, his face paling. "What are the results? Is she pregnant?"

"No, she's not," the nurse says.

Gabrielle let out a relieved sigh. Her period is a few days late, and she's been terrified she's pregnant with Jackson's child. She reaches for the results, but Jackson tears the paper into shreds and throws it like confetti.

"Congratulations," he says mockingly. "Do you want to make a deal with me now?"

Gabrielle looks nervously at Jackson—something about the way he says the word "deal" makes her skin crawl. It sounds slimy and gross coming out of his mouth. She knows she should run away, but her curiosity gets the better of her—it could have something to do with Avery, after all.

"What kind of deal?" she asks.

"A sexual transaction," Jackson says, raising one perfect eyebrow.

Gabrielle almost chokes on her own spit. Between coughs, she asks, "Are you kidding me?"

Jackson reaches out to grab her arm. Instead of hurting her, he raises her bare wrist to his lips and gently licks the tender skin. His rough tongue sends shivers down her spine, but she jerked her hand away.

"You disgust me," she says. "You think I'd want to sleep with you after everything you did to me? You're sick. Besides, you heard me at The Palm House—you're a terrible lover, you're not even worth $100."

Jackson's face twists angrily, and his eyes cloud over, "You know, that little show you put on at the club has become a hot gossip topic. All my friends have started calling me One Hundred Oliver because of you. But what if it was the other way around? I'll give you $100 every time we're together—more if you really impress me."

Gabrielle is furious, but she throws her head back and laughs. Men like Jackson don't mind being called nasty names, but they hate being laughed at. She laughs and laughs until he tightly grabs her wrist.

"I'm not strapped for cash," she said with a smile.