Page 38 of Understanding Fate

To my surprise, he doesn’t look defeated. He isn’t angry and doesn’t even appear stressed. Instead, the side of his mouth tips up in a smirk, and he winks at me without a word before walking out of the courtroom.

Fuck….What am I missing here?

Chapter 15

Bri

Sunlight dances against my skin as I wake to the sound of a male voice calling my name from the other side of the hotel door. A light knocking follows, pulling me completely from my nightmare-filled sleep. My eyes catch the clock on the nightstand. It’s nearly one in the afternoon.

I can’t remember the last time I’d slept this late.

Stretching, I roll myself out of bed, feeling thankful I’d put on the replacement clothes they brought me last night after my shower instead of stripping down naked and falling asleep. Reluctantly, I trudge to the door.

Coffee.

I need coffee.

Rising a bit on my toes, I look out the peephole to find my guard and a smaller man standing in the hall. The new arrival is just taller than me, with wire-rimmed glasses and a white lab coat. In his hand is an oversized aluminum suitcase that gives me pause.

Who is this guy?

“Miss DelaCourt, please open the door. We can hear you standing there.”

Shit!

I forgot about that.

Sighing, I step back and pull the door open, not even attempting to hide the irritation on my face. Both men stare at me, faces neutral before the guard from yesterday speaks.

“This is Dr. Auguste Foret. He’s here to take a sample of your blood,” he says firmly, waving the man forward.

I retreat a step at his words, crossing my arms defensively.

“I don’t think so,” I reply, my voice stronger than I thought it would be, my eyes flying between them.

“Then I guess it’s unfortunate that you don’t have a choice. LLC orders. You can cooperate, or we can force you to cooperate. Which will it be, girl?” he sneers, appearing to enjoy the idea of forcing me into submission.

My jaw clenches, and I lock eyes with him, refusing to let this man make me feel helpless or small. He holds my gaze, the challenge apparent as we stand off.

I may not be able to take you, but Cain can, and will.

My eyebrow lifts as the silence fills the space between us.

“Enough, Tate. You can go,” the doctor says, dismissing him as he walks farther into the room and over to the table.

Tate growls at me, slowly shaking his head before returning to the hallway.

“You can sit over here. This will only take a minute,” the doctor says as he unloads various items onto the table and pulls on a pair of medical gloves.

“Can you tell me what exactly I’m giving my blood for?” I ask, complying with his request to sit in hopes he will give me answers.

“I’ve been tasked with tracing your lineage. This blood will tell us where and who you came from,” he says, rubbing alcohol on my arm before inserting the needle without so much as a warning.

I inhale through my teeth and look away. Both the idea that I’m going to find out who my biological father is and the pinch of the needle into my skin makes me dizzy, my stomach doing a little flip.

Breathe.

“And we're done,” he says, removing the tube of blood, followed by the needle, and then positions a piece of gauze over the wound. Once it's in place, he bends my arm up at the elbow to hold it, and I instinctively place my fingers on top of it, keeping pressure as he labels the tube and sets it next to his bag.

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