Lured In (Dark Paradise, #1) Read Free

disappointment to my parents, who’d had high hopes for me. What parent didn’t have such hopes for his or her child? I was home alone one Friday night until Connor, my stepbrother, had come home from college for the weekend. I had pulled away from his drunken grip, fallen down a flight of stairs, and busted up my head, which knocked me unconscious. I was transported to Sibley Memorial Hospital, where my dad and stepdad, both medical doctors, worked. Although I didn’t know it, part of the routine blood work performed that night revealed that I was pregnant. I woke up later with a hell of a headache and a pair of very concerned and angry parents.
    My dad had sat beside me on the hospital bed and asked, “Do you know what beta hCG is, Abigail?”
    “Yes. Why?”
    “Tell me what it is, Abigail.”
    I frowned at my dad. It was not like him to interrogate.
    “Dad, I’m fine. I know who I am, where I am, the date, everything. I just have a killer headache. And maybe I feel a little nauseated.”
    “What is beta hCG, Abigail?” he demanded again, ignoring me.
    “Gosh, Dad. It’s a hormone that is detected when a woman becomes pregnant.”
    He handed me a printout of lab results and asked me to read it. The beta hCG level was 5020. It was high enough to confirm a pregnancy. However, that didn’t explain why my dad was pushing. I thought my stepmom was pregnant and they were trying to cheer me up with good news.
    “Dad, is Elizabeth pregnant? Oh, my God, this is great news! I am so happy for you two!” I said ecstatically.
    “Liz is not pregnant, Abigail,” my dad replied.
    I looked over to my mom.
    “Don’t even look over here at me,” she said angrily. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked away.
    “Then who?” I asked.
    “Read the damn name,” my dad said in a harsher tone.
    I turned my eyes back to the report. There, in black and white type, was my name. I gasped, but my lungs didn’t fill with enough air.
Pregnant?
I began hyperventilating, which did not help my nausea. I tried to cover my mouth with my hand, but I was too late. My vomit flew all over my dad, and he recoiled in disgust. I hadn’t thought it possible, but he looked even angrier at me. I shook my head, looking back and forth at my dad, mom, and stepdad. Everything got hazy, and I went unconscious again. The last thought I had was that at least in sleep I could escape the disappointed stares.
    I was a zombie for the next few days, and my parents rarely spoke to me. When they finally did, they told me that they agreed with Dr. Epps, my psychiatrist, about terminating the pregnancy immediately.

Chapter Two

    On Friday, September 7, 2012, I was in my well-earned big corner office preparing for an out-of-the-blue merger of our company, Capitol Health, with Health Choice. A knock at the door announced that my dad and stepdad were in the building.
    My father, Adam Winterfield, was of Cajun and Atlantic Creole descent. He was tall with a solid build. He had golden skin, hazel eyes, and brown hair. My stepfather, Richard Shannahan, was tall but not as tall as my dad, with a medium build. He had blue eyes, pale skin, and sandy blond hair. Both men were handsome and sociable and loved wearing the best fabric and shoes and sporting all the finest accessories that money could buy.
    The corporate office was on the twelfth floor of one of the McConnallay Enterprises high-rise buildings on Seventh Street NW. As physicians, my dad and stepdad worked primarily in various hospitals and the private practice they had built together four years ago. They came to the headquarters once a week to discuss business, administrative issues, and other concerns.
    “Three thirty,” my dad said with cheer in his voice. He was excited about the prospect of the merger and the meeting that was about to start in fifteen minutes.
    “Almost done!” I replied without looking up. I was concentrating on a few proposals I had concocted to make sure my dad and stepdad