“This is it,” Ashby breathes, glancing between me and the test. “You’re carrying the heir to East End.” “Who cares?” Lex spits, murder still burning in his eyes. “She’s a fucking fraud! A liar and traitor! We should throw her into the dungeon!” Whirling on him, Ashby barks, “She’s the Princess!” Gaping, Lex flings a hand toward me. “She’s a fucking hostage!” But then Ashby roars, the rawness of it striking the entire ballroom into stunned silence. “She’s my biological daughter!”
