High Currency 1

DEBORAH'S POV

I struggled to my feet, my legs trembling. He looked at me with a mixture of disgust and something else I couldn't quite place. "Do you understand what you've done?" he said, his voice tight. "The family you're betrothed to has finally demanded that you and their son meet. And now this?"

He thrust the cut out paper closer to my face. "Who is the father?"

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. "It doesn't matter," I said, my voice barely audible.

His eyes flashed with rage. "Doesn't matter? If you still want to be regarded as a Sutton, you'd better answer me. Who is he? I'm going to ruin that fucker's life."

"It's... it's some lowlife," I stammered, hoping it would placate him.

He leaned in closer, his breath hot on my face. "Does this lowlife not have a name?"