Page 82 of All The Pretty Little Lies

The raw pain in her voice ignites something primal within me. "You heard the lady," I growl. “But, first, we need to have a little chat.”

I lean in close, my face inches from his masked visage. "Let's start simple. Who were the buyers for Vesper’s eggs?"

His eyes dart frantically between Alex and me, sweat beading on his forehead. "I...I don't know," he stammers. "Natasha oversaw all that. I just did the procedures."

"Bullshit," I snarl, slamming my hand down on the metal tray beside him. The instruments rattle, and he flinches. "You expect us to believe you were just some mindless grunt? Try again."

He shakes his head vigorously, eyes wide with panic. "I swear, it's the truth! Natasha brought her when she was ripe, I did the egg retrieval, and they left. I swear.”

"He’s lying,” Vesper’s voice cuts through the noise. “The place they kept me. He was there. He visited.”

“For her hormone injections,” he fires back. “That’s it.”

“And where would that have been exactly?”

“I can’t tell you that. They’ll kill me,” he pleas.

“If you think you’re walking out of here still drawing breath, you’re delusional.”

I glance at Alex, who's watching the exchange with cold detachment. He gives a subtle nod, and I know we're on the same page. This scumbag isn't going to crack easily.

"Alright," I say, straightening up. "If that's how you want to play it."

I step back, giving Alex room to move. He approaches the bed slowly, deliberately, a scalpel glinting in his hand.

"What...what are you doing?" he whimpers, straining against his restraints.

Alex doesn't respond. Instead, he leans over the man, the scalpel hovering just above the crotch of his dress pants. With precise movements, he begins to cut through the fabric, the soft sound of tearing cloth filling the room.

His pleas grow more frantic as Alex works, cutting through his underwear as well. "Please, stop! I'll tell you whatever you want to know!"

But it's too late. Alex steps back, and I can see the man's exposed flesh, vulnerable and pathetic. The sight fills me with a mixture of disgust and savage satisfaction.

"Now," I say, my voice low and dangerous, "let's try this again. Who were the buyers?"

He's sobbing now, his chest heaving beneath the white coat. "I don't know his real name," he chokes out. “They just went by The Collector, that’s all I know, I swear.”

I lean in closer, my eyes boring into his. "What did they want with her eggs?”

He swallows hard, Adam's apple bobbing beneath the surgical mask. "I…I didn’t ask," he whispers. “They paid triple the usual rate for a viable male embryo. They said she was special. I just did what they wanted me to do."

“The rack with her embryo. It’s empty. Where did they go?”

The man’s eyes dart nervously between Alex and me, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "The male embryo. It was couriered away as soon as it was frozen. Special handling, top priority. I don't know where it went, I swear."

I feel my jaw clench, anger boiling in my veins. "And the female embryo?"

He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing beneath the surgical mask. "Destroyed," he whispers, his voice barely audible. "Per The Collector's request. They only wanted the male."

The words hit me like a physical blow. I turn to look at the phone propped up on the tray where Vesper's face fills the screen. The devastation in her eyes is palpable, a raw, open wound that makes my chest ache. Her lips tremble, and I can see her struggling to maintain her composure.

The sight of her pain ignites something primal within me. I whirl back to face him, my vision tinged with red. "Where?" I snarl, leaning in close. "Where did they send the male embryo?"

He shakes his head frantically, eyes wide with terror. "I don't know, I swear! They never tell me these things. I'm just the doctor. I don't oversee logistics!"

I can feel my control slipping, rage threatening to consume me. My hands clench into fists at my sides, knuckles white with the effort of restraining myself.

From the corner of my eye, I see Alex move. He reaches for something on the nearby tray, and the fluorescent lights glint off cold, polished steel. A speculum, its curved arms wickedly sharp in the harsh light.

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