Evelyn stood in the freezing, dimly lit stairwell of the hospital and ended the call.
She leaned her full weight against the rough concrete wall, gasping for air as she tried to force her violently shaking body to still.
Her phone screen suddenly lit up in her palm. A special push notification from TMZ flashed across the glass.
The bold, black headline read: Hollywood's Rising Star Brianna Chen Suspected Pregnant.
Beneath the text was a blurry, zoomed-in photo of Carter's broad back as he escorted Brianna through the private entrance of Mount Sinai Hospital.
Evelyn stared at the word "Pregnant." Her stomach violently contracted, sending a rush of sour acid up her esophagus.
The phone vibrated again in her hand. The caller ID displayed her older brother, Emilio Austin.
She pressed answer, bringing the phone to her ear. Emilio's furious, demanding voice immediately blasted through the speaker.
"You need to get to that hospital right now and clear up these divorce rumors with the press," Emilio ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.
He didn't ask if she was okay. He went straight for the throat, threatening to cut off the Austin family trust fund and stop the payments for their mother's private care facility.
Evelyn locked her jaw. She dug her fingernails into her palm until the skin nearly broke, and coldly rejected his demands.
She pulled the phone away from her ear, hit the red button, and permanently blocked his number.
Pushing open the heavy fire door, Evelyn walked out of the hospital and into the pouring rain. She raised a hand and hailed a passing yellow cab.
The taxi sped through the flooded streets of New York, finally pulling up to the curb of her luxury apartment building on the Upper East Side.
The doorman's eyes widened in shock when he saw the bloody gauze on her forehead, rushing forward to open a large black umbrella over her head.
Evelyn ignored him. Her face was entirely blank as she walked into the private elevator and hit the button for the penthouse.
The doors slid open to the sprawling, silent apartment.
She walked straight into the massive walk-in closet and yanked a black Hermes suitcase down from the top shelf.
She didn't touch the designer gowns. She only grabbed the basic, unbranded clothes she had purchased before the marriage, shoving them into the suitcase. Her stitches burned with a hot, pulsing ache as she dragged the heavy luggage across the floor.
Every piece of haute couture and every velvet jewelry box Carter had ever given her was thrown carelessly onto the plush carpet.
She walked out of the closet and into his study. She pulled open the heavy oak drawer of the desk and took out the freshly faxed divorce agreement from her lawyer.
Evelyn picked up the Montblanc pen resting on the leather blotter. She quickly signed her name on the bottom line, her handwriting sharp and jagged.
She paused, her eyes dropping to the massive pink diamond wedding ring sitting heavy on her left ring finger.
She grabbed the diamond and pulled hard. The metal scraped violently against her knuckle, leaving the skin raw and red.
Evelyn slammed the priceless ring down onto the desk, pressing it directly over her signature on the divorce papers.
She zipped up the suitcase. The metal teeth of the zipper bit together with a loud, harsh sound.
Dragging the luggage to the foyer, she turned her head and took one final look at the cold, empty cage she had lived in.
She reached out and flipped the main breaker switch. The entire penthouse plunged into absolute, suffocating darkness.
The heavy front door clicked shut behind her, the lock engaging with a heavy thud.
She dragged her suitcase out onto the wet Manhattan pavement, her silhouette disappearing into the dark night.
Evelyn stood on the soaked sidewalk, the rain soaking through her thin coat, and flagged down a ride-share car.
She gave the driver the address for The Plaza Hotel. The car merged into traffic, heading straight toward Central Park.
Walking into the opulent lobby, she bypassed the main desk and used her private, unmonitored credit card to book a suite.
The bellhop carried her black suitcase into the room, gave a polite bow, and quietly backed out of the door.
Evelyn threw the deadbolt and hung the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the handle.
She kicked off her ruined heels and collapsed face-first onto the massive, soft bed, her muscles screaming in exhaustion.
The stitches on her forehead throbbed with a hot, pulsing pain. She closed her eyes, quickly slipping into a shallow, restless sleep.
She didn't know how much time had passed when a violent, rapid pounding on the door jolted her awake.
Before she could sit up, the muffled sound of a harsh argument bled through the heavy door. "Mr. Finley, you cannot-" a hotel manager pleaded. The electronic lock beeped sharply. The door was shoved open, and Carter Finley stormed into the suite, tossing a master hotel keycard directly at the terrified manager's chest before slamming the door shut.
He brought the freezing dampness of the rain and a suffocating wave of anger with him.
Evelyn shot up from the mattress, her hands instinctively gripping the edge of the duvet.
The loud bang echoed off the high ceilings of the suite.
His eyes were bloodshot. He demanded to know what the hell the papers on his desk meant.
Evelyn let out a dry, humorless laugh. She pointed a shaking finger at the door and told him to get out.
Her dismissal ignited the rage he had been suppressing all night. He crossed the room in three long strides.
He grabbed her wrist, his grip bruising and impossibly strong.
He pushed her backward onto the mattress, his large frame casting a dark shadow that completely engulfed her.
Evelyn inhaled sharply. The distinct, sterile smell of hospital sanitizer clung to his suit jacket. Her stomach violently lurched.
She fought wildly, her fingernails scraping hard across the back of Carter's hand, leaving bright red scratches.
The extreme physical exhaustion and the lingering trauma of the crash suddenly triggered a severe stress response. Her vision blurred.
She squeezed her eyes shut, her body trembling uncontrollably as she began to mumble incoherently.
"Don't hurt my mom," she whispered, her voice broken. "Don't take her away."
Carter froze instantly. The muscles in his back went rigid, and his pupils contracted.
The crushing pressure on her wrists vanished. A flash of deep confusion and raw pain crossed his face.
He slowly reached out a trembling hand, his fingers moving toward the white gauze on her forehead.
Just as his fingertips were about to brush her skin, the sharp, customized ringtone of his phone pierced the silence.
It was the specific ringtone he had assigned only to Brianna.
Carter's hand stopped in mid-air. His jaw clenched tight, the muscle ticking under his skin. He pulled the phone from his pocket and answered it.
He lowered his voice, speaking softly into the receiver, promising her he would be right back to the hospital. He turned around and walked out.
The door clicked shut. Evelyn opened her eyes in the pitch-black room, hot tears sliding silently down her temples into her hair.
The harsh morning sunlight pierced through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the suite, burning Evelyn's tired eyes.
She sat up slowly. The vulnerability from the night before was completely gone, replaced by a freezing, hollow calm.
The doorbell rang. A waiter wheeled a silver room service cart into the room, leaving the breakfast spread by the window.
Evelyn had just picked up a cup of black coffee when the suite door was shoved open again.
Carter walked in. He was wearing a brand new, perfectly tailored Tom Ford suit, his face set in hard, unforgiving lines.
He tossed a thick folder onto the dining table. It hit the wood with a heavy thud.
He used his authoritative, boardroom voice, ordering her to end this childish tantrum and move back to the estate immediately.
Evelyn took a slow sip of her coffee. She didn't even blink, completely ignoring his presence.
Her total indifference instantly poured gasoline on the anger Carter had been swallowing all morning.
He stepped up to the table and slammed both of his hands down flat on the surface. The coffee cups rattled violently in their saucers.
A few drops of scalding coffee splashed over the rim, staining the pristine white tablecloth brown.
Carter looked down at her, his voice dripping with cruel mockery as he told her she wouldn't survive a week on the streets without the Finley name.
He viciously reminded her that she was nothing but a decorative vase, kept around solely to appease the board of directors.
He stated, with brutal clarity, that her only real value was to produce an heir for the Finley trust fund.
At the words "breeding tool," Evelyn's knuckles turned stark white around the handle of her mug.
She set the coffee down with deliberate slowness. She stood up, her spine perfectly straight, and stared directly into Carter's icy blue eyes.
She didn't scream. She didn't cry. She simply reached out and picked up the tall glass of ice water from the tray.
With a quick flick of her wrist, she threw the freezing water directly into Carter's face.
The ice water dripped down the bridge of his nose, running off his sharp jawline and soaking into his expensive silk tie.
Carter stood completely paralyzed in shock, his eyes wide, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
Evelyn pulled a linen napkin from the table and elegantly dabbed the moisture from her fingers.
Her voice was absolute ice as she told him that was exactly what she thought of his valuation of her.
She grabbed her handbag off the sofa and turned her back on him, walking straight toward the door.
Carter snapped out of his daze. He lunged forward, his large hand clamping down hard on her upper arm.
Evelyn spun around and delivered a sharp, stinging slap directly to the back of his hand, forcing him to let go. Her bruised arm ached from the sudden exertion, but she didn't show a sliver of weakness.
She pulled the door open and walked out into the carpeted hallway.
Carter stood frozen in the room, staring at the red handprint forming on his skin, his face dark with a terrifying rage.
The elevator doors opened. Evelyn stepped inside, keeping her chin high.
The metal doors slid shut, cutting off Carter's furious, complicated stare.
As the elevator dropped, her stomach left behind in the sudden weightlessness, she pulled out her phone to call her best friend.