At the VIP clinic, I was helping my nine-month pregnant daughter change for her final ultrasound. The moment her shirt slipped off, I felt my breath catch in my throat.

looking at us. Her shoulders were tense as she adjusted the machine.

“Excuse me,” I said calmly. “Is Dr. Thorne planning to attend this scan?”

She nodded too quickly. “Yes, Mrs. Brooks. He specifically requested to review the final scan. He should be here any moment.”

Of course he did.

Men like Julian didn’t just crave control—they continue reading …