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I’ll stop at nothing to own her.
I’m a collector of dolls.
All kinds of dolls.
So beautiful and sexy, they become my art.
So perfect and flawless, my art galleries are flooded by the wealthy to gaze upon my possessions with envy.
So fragile and delicate, I keep them tucked away for safety.
The dark and torrid tales of Drayton’s Dolls run rampant through the rich and famous, and all but a few are true.
Normally I share my dolls for others to play with or watch on display.
But not my special doll.
No, not her.
Ivy is the most precious doll of all.
She’s mine. All mine.