Page 117 of Hunted By Valentine

I stay outside, debating whether or not I should go inside. I hadn’t planned on this, but something about that woman, Eve Mortis, her connection to Valentine—it fuels my rage, propelling me forward. My hands ball into fists at my sides as indecision wages war within me.

“Fuck it,” I mutter under my breath, taking a deep breath before pushing open the door with more force than necessary.

The sound of the door slamming against the wall echoes through the reception area, announcing my presence like an angry thunderclap. I stride directly toward the reception desk, each step heavy with determination.

“Can I help you?” the receptionist asks, her voice wavering slightly at my brusque entrance.

“I want to make an appointment with Dr. Eve Mortis,” I respond, my voice steady, betraying none of the turmoil raging inside me.

“Of course,” she replies, tapping away at her computer, her eyes wide with apprehension. “Let’s see… we have an opening next Thursday afternoon. Will that work for you?”

“Perfect,” I say, my jaw tense as I imagine what it’ll be like to face her one-on-one as a client. To peel back the layers of her carefully crafted exterior and uncover the truth.

“Great,” the receptionist says, still nervously typing. “May I have your name, please?”

“Jack Knight.”

“Thank you, Mr. Knight. You’re all set. Please arrive fifteen minutes early to fill out some paperwork.”

“Thanks,” I reply tersely, then turn on my heel and stalk back out of the clinic.

As I step into the cold air, the fury in my veins is momentarily tempered by a growing sense of determination. It’s only a matter of time before I take on Eve Mortis and make her pay for her role in all this madness.

“Your time will come, Doctor,” I whisper under my breath. “I promise you that.”