Shattered Rings And Her Priceless Hidden Identity

Heavy rain violently battered the windshield of the black sedan.

Evelyn Austin sat in the backseat, her gaze fixed on the blurred red taillights of the Manhattan traffic.

At the intersection, a massive delivery truck suddenly ran the red light, tearing through the downpour directly toward them.

The driver yanked the steering wheel hard. The tires let out an ear-splitting screech as they lost traction on the slick asphalt.

The sheer force of the impact threw Evelyn's body violently forward.

The airbag deployed in a fraction of a second, slamming into her chest and forcing all the oxygen from her lungs.

A thick, acrid smell of burning rubber and white smoke instantly filled the crushed cabin.

Evelyn's forehead smashed against the side window. Warm, thick blood immediately began to seep into her hairline, blinding her left eye.

Outside, the muffled shouts of paramedics cut through the rain. They wedged a heavy iron crowbar into the mangled door, prying it open with a metallic groan.

Strong hands pulled her half-conscious body onto a rigid stretcher, shoving her into the back of a wailing ambulance.

The siren screamed all the way to the emergency bay of Mount Sinai Hospital.

The blinding, sterile fluorescent lights of the ER forced Evelyn to squeeze her eyes shut. Her stomach rolled with intense nausea.

An emergency room doctor moved quickly, wiping the blood from her face and stitching the deep gash above her brow. The pull of the thread against her skin was a dull, rhythmic sting.

A nurse named Moira Walsh pulled the privacy curtain shut. As the fabric swished closed, Moira leaned toward another nurse, her voice dropping into a hushed whisper.

"Did you see the VIP floor? The CEO of the Finley Group is upstairs right now, playing nurse to that actress."

Evelyn's heart physically stopped in her chest.

The name Carter Finley hit her ears, and a cold rush of bile rose in the back of her throat.

She didn't wait for the nurse to turn back around. Evelyn reached over and ripped the IV needle straight out of the back of her hand.

"Ma'am, you can't-" Moira started, but Evelyn was already off the bed.

A wave of violent dizziness slammed into her, forcing her to grip the edge of the mattress. Her freshly stitched forehead throbbed in agonizing time with her racing pulse, but she refused to stop.

Thick drops of blood slid down her knuckles, splattering onto the pristine white hospital tiles.

Evelyn pressed her hand against the cold, sterile wall, using it to keep her balance as she forced her legs to carry her toward the elevator bank.

She hit the button for the top floor.

The doors slid open. She stepped out, dragging her heavy, aching body down the quiet, carpeted hallway toward the VIP suite at the very end.

Through the slightly parted blinds of the room, warm, soft light spilled into the corridor.

Carter Finley sat on the edge of the hospital bed. He held a plastic cup of warm water in his large hands.

Brianna Chen leaned back against the pillows. Fat, pathetic tears clung to her eyelashes.

Carter raised his hand. His thumb brushed gently across Brianna's cheek, wiping away the moisture.

Brianna leaned into his touch, lifting her own hand to press his palm flat against her face.

Evelyn's lungs seized. The air trapped in her chest felt like a solid block of cement. The tearing sensation in her gut was violently worse than the car crash.

She stumbled backward. Her spine collided hard with a metal medical cart left in the hallway. The sudden movement sent a sickening jolt of pain through her bruised ribs, but she couldn't feel it over the absolute devastation in her heart.

The stainless steel trays on top clattered together with a sharp, ringing crash.

Inside the room, Carter's head snapped toward the door, his jaw tightening as his brow furrowed.

Evelyn didn't breathe. She shoved herself off the cart and darted into the heavy shadows of the adjacent stairwell.

Her back hit the concrete wall. She pulled her phone from her coat pocket with trembling, blood-stained fingers.

She dialed her lawyer's number. When he answered, her voice was completely hollow. "Draft the divorce papers. Now."