"You useless bitch," Troy snapped, slapping Tara across the face. "If it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't have had to buy a son!" he bellowed.
The blow stung, but the insult cut deeper. The couple was having another heated argument in the drawing room.
Troy ridiculed every suggestion Tara or Therese dared to offer. Despite their best efforts, he looked down on them. He respected neither of them, nor any woman at all.
As usual, his words dripped in that low, mocking tone he reserved for her, for Therese, for every female unlucky enough to cross his path.
"Don't sulk. It's bad for business," declared Troy. "You, of all people, should know that."
Anna Suarez's name came up again. Then the bribes. The threats. And finally, the truth Tara had always feared.
"You knew!" Tara's voice trembled with rage. "You knew all along that Terry wasn't my son."
Troy shrugged, casual, almost lazy. "Blood doesn't matter. Usefulness does. And Terry… Terry has been very useful to me."
