The heavy oak doors of the penthouse study slammed shut behind her.

Adriane stood frozen on the thick Persian rug. Two massive bodyguards had just dragged her out of the elevator and shoved her inside. The air in the room smelled of cold mint and expensive cigars. It was Chase's scent. It made her stomach twist into a hard knot.

Behind the massive mahogany desk, Chase sat in silence. He watched her tremble like a frightened animal. A muscle feathered in his jaw.

He picked up a thick stack of papers and threw it onto the desk. The heavy slap of paper against wood made Adriane flinch.

"Sign it," Chase ordered. His voice left no room for argument.

Adriane took a slow, blind step forward. Her fingertips brushed the edge of the cold desk, then found the thick paper.

"This penthouse is worth ten million dollars," Chase said coldly. "Keep it. It's your compensation. Just sign the divorce papers and disappear."

Adriane's jaw clamped shut. The humiliation burned the back of her throat.

"I don't want your money," Adriane whispered. Her voice cracked. "I just want you to believe me. I did not push her."

Chase let out a harsh, mocking laugh. "Still playing the victim. You really don't know when to quit."

Suddenly, a loud, shrill ringtone cut through the silence.

Adriane jumped. She fumbled with the pocket of her cheap jeans and pulled out her phone. The screen reader announced the caller ID in a robotic voice.

New York Presbyterian Hospital.

Her blood ran cold. She answered the call, pressing the phone hard against her ear.

"Ms. Owens?" a nurse's panicked voice came through the speaker. "It's your brother, Barry. His kidneys are failing rapidly. We need to schedule the surgery tomorrow, but you must deposit the two hundred thousand dollar surgical fee within forty-eight hours, or we cannot proceed."

Adriane's legs gave out.

She collapsed against the edge of the mahogany desk, her knees hitting the floor hard. The phone slipped from her fingers, the nurse's frantic voice still calling her name from the tiny speaker before the line went dead.

The room went dead silent. Only Adriane's ragged, desperate breathing filled the air.

For Barry. She had to do this for Barry. He was all she had left.

Adriane swallowed her pride. She placed both her hands flat on the desk, feeling her way toward where Chase sat.

"Chase," she begged, her voice raw and broken. "Please. I need two hundred thousand dollars. Lend it to me. I will sign anything you want. I will leave New York. Just please, save my brother."

Chase stared down at her. His eyes turned into chips of black ice.

He stood up. His tall frame cast a dark shadow over her.

"You really think I'm that stupid?" Chase sneered. "A perfectly timed phone call. A tragic story. You finally show your true, greedy face."

"No! It's real!" Adriane shook her head wildly. Tears streamed down her face. She reached out and grabbed the bottom edge of his suit jacket. "Call the hospital! Ask them!"

The study door clicked open.

Kassidy walked in, carrying two cups of pour-over coffee. She wore a perfectly tailored designer dress.

Kassidy stopped in her tracks. She let out a soft gasp. "Oh, Adriane. Are you still bothering him for money?"

Chase heard Kassidy's voice. Disgust flashed across his face. He slapped Adriane's hand away from his jacket.

Adriane lost her balance. She stumbled backward, her spine crashing hard into the solid wood bookshelf. Pain exploded in her back.

Chase walked over to Kassidy. He took the coffee from her hands. His voice softened instantly. "You shouldn't be carrying these."

He turned his head back to Adriane. The softness vanished.

"Get out," Chase commanded. "I'm having the lawyers draft a new agreement. You get nothing. Not a single cent."

Adriane opened her mouth to scream, to beg, but the two bodyguards stepped in. They grabbed her arms tightly and dragged her backward.

As she was pulled through the door, Kassidy stood behind Chase. Kassidy smiled. It was a cold, victorious smile.

The study doors slammed shut again. Adriane was thrown into the elevator, the countdown to her brother's death ticking loudly in her ears.

The smell of bleach and rubbing alcohol made Adriane's stomach roll.

She dragged her white cane across the linoleum floor of New York Presbyterian Hospital. Her fingertips still felt cold. They held the memory of her brother Barry's freezing skin. She had just left his intensive care room. The machines beeping around him sounded like a countdown to the end.

Ten minutes ago, the head doctor told her the brutal truth. No check, no operating room.

Adriane stood in the corner of the crowded billing hall. She pulled out her phone with shaking hands. She dialed her old college roommate.

"I'm sorry, Adriane. I just bought a house. I don't have that kind of cash." Click.

She called another friend.

"Wow, that's a lot of money. Let me ask my husband..." Click.

She quickly dialed Deandre Garrison, her old college friend, praying he would pick up. The line rang endlessly until it hit voicemail. She left a breathless, begging message.

Three calls. Three rejections.

Adriane leaned her back against the cold tile wall. She pressed the palms of her hands against her eyes, trying to push the tears back in. A choked sob ripped from her throat.

Down the hall, the heavy double doors of the VIP wing pushed open.

Sharp, rhythmic high heels clicked against the floor. Kassidy walked out, holding tightly to Chase's arm. They had just finished accompanying Drucilla for her brain scan.

Kassidy's eyes scanned the crowd. She spotted the cheap, worn-out trench coat instantly.

A malicious spark lit up Kassidy's eyes. She tugged on Chase's arm, steering him directly toward the billing hall.

"Oh my goodness, Adriane?" Kassidy called out. Her voice was loud, dripping with fake shock and pity.

Adriane's spine went rigid. She quickly wiped her wet cheeks with the back of her sleeve and gripped her cane tightly. She stood up straight.

Chase followed Kassidy's gaze. When he saw Adriane, his jaw clenched. A deep scowl formed on his face.

Kassidy stepped right up to Adriane. "What are you doing here? Are you following us?"

"No," Adriane said through gritted teeth. "I am here to see my sick brother."

Chase let out a harsh breath. He stepped between the two women, towering over Adriane.

"You followed us to a hospital?" Chase's voice was low and lethal. "Your tricks are getting pathetic, Adriane."

Adriane's chest heaved. Panic and anger mixed in her blood. "I am not following you! I have the billing notice right here!"

She reached her hand into the deep pocket of her trench coat, her fingers brushing against the crumpled piece of paper.

Kassidy moved fast. She stepped forward, her body completely blocking Chase's view of Adriane's pocket. Kassidy's hand shot out and clamped down hard on Adriane's wrist, pinning it inside the coat.

Kassidy leaned in close. Her sweet perfume masked the smell of the hospital.

"Stop embarrassing yourself, you blind beggar," Kassidy whispered venomously into Adriane's ear.

Adriane's blood boiled. With a sudden burst of strength, she yanked her arm free and shoved Kassidy's hand away.

Kassidy stumbled backward. She threw her arms up and let out a fragile, terrified shriek.

Chase reacted instantly. He wrapped his strong arm around Kassidy's waist, catching her before she fell.

He turned his head slowly. The look in his eyes was pure murder.

"If you ever touch her again," Chase said, his voice dropping to a terrifying whisper, "I will make sure you never walk the streets of New York again."

Adriane's fingers gripped her cane so hard her joints ached. Her fingernails bit deeply into her own palms.

She stood tall, facing the darkness where his voice came from.

"You are pathetic, Chase," Adriane said. Her voice did not shake.

The words hit Chase like a physical blow. His eyes darkened. He took a threatening step forward, but Kassidy quickly grabbed his lapels.

"Chase, please," Kassidy pleaded softly. "Drucilla is waiting for us. Don't let her upset you."

Chase stopped. He glared at Adriane one last time, then turned and walked away with Kassidy.

Their footsteps faded down the hall. Whispers erupted from the patients watching nearby.

Adriane stood alone. Inside her pocket, her fingers crushed the billing notice into a tight, useless ball. She had to find another way.

The hard plastic of the cafeteria chair dug into Adriane's spine.

She sat in the noisy, crowded hospital food court. Both of her hands wrapped tightly around a paper cup of free hot water. The heat seeped into her freezing palms, but it did nothing to stop the violent shaking in her shoulders.

Heavy, measured footsteps approached her table. A leather briefcase hit the plastic tabletop with a dull thud.

"Ms. Owens."

The voice was flat, professional, and entirely devoid of empathy. Adriane's stomach dropped. She sat up straight.

"I am Franklin Adler, legal counsel for the Barnett family," the man said, adjusting his gold-rimmed glasses.

Adler unzipped his briefcase. He pulled out a thick stack of papers and slid them across the table until they touched Adriane's fingertips.

"Mr. Barnett requires your signature on this revised divorce settlement today," Adler stated mechanically.

Adriane traced the edge of the paper. Her throat felt like it was coated in sand. "If I sign this... can I get the two hundred thousand dollars today?"

Adler looked down at her with mild disgust. "As per standard trust fund procedures, the capital will be released into your account in exactly thirty business days."

Adriane jumped to her feet. Her knee hit the table. The cup of hot water tipped over, spilling across the plastic and splashing onto her worn trench coat.

"Thirty days?" Adriane screamed, her voice cracking with hysteria. "My brother doesn't have thirty days! He has less than forty-eight hours! I need the cash now!"

Adler took a clean step back, avoiding the dripping water. His face remained completely blank. "That is not my concern, Ms. Owens."

He placed a heavy, gold-plated pen on top of the wet papers.

"You have ten minutes to decide. If you do not sign, you will not receive the compensation in thirty days, either."

Adler turned on his heel and walked out to the hallway, leaving her alone.

Adriane reached out and touched the cold metal of the pen. A violent shudder ripped through her body.

In the face of Chase's absolute power, she didn't even have the right to sell her own marriage to save her brother. She was completely trapped.

Her legs gave out. She sank back into the chair, buried her face in her hands, and let out a low, agonizing wail.

Suddenly, a heavy, warm cashmere coat settled over her shaking shoulders. It smelled faintly of clean laundry and expensive men's cologne.

"Adriane?"

The voice was deep, warm, and incredibly familiar.

Adriane gasped and lifted her head. Even through the gray fog, she knew that voice. Dr. Deandre Garrison. Her old college friend.

Deandre stood there, looking down at her tear-stained face and the divorce papers on the table. A deep frown creased his forehead. "Adriane? I just saw your missed call. I was in a seminar all morning. What's wrong?" he asked, his tone laced with immediate concern.

He pulled out the chair next to her and sat down. With extreme gentleness, he reached out and wrapped his large, warm hands over her trembling, wet fingers.

He looked closely at her hollow, red eyes. A flash of intense pain and anger crossed his face.

"What happened?" Deandre asked softly.

Adriane broke. The words poured out of her in a frantic, stuttering mess. She told him about Barry, the failing kidneys, the deadline, and the money she couldn't get.

Deandre did not hesitate for a single second.

"I will get the money," Deandre said firmly. "I will cover the surgery."

Adriane froze. Her breath hitched. She stared blankly in his direction, unable to process the words. In a world that had shown her nothing but cruelty, someone was offering her a lifeline.

Deandre picked up a napkin and gently wiped the tears from her cheeks.

Outside the cafeteria, Adler checked his luxury watch. He walked back to the table, ready to collect the papers.

Deandre stood up. He stepped in front of Adriane, using his broad shoulders to completely shield her from the lawyer. Deandre's eyes were cold and sharp.

He snatched the divorce papers off the table and slammed them hard into Adler's chest.

"Tell Chase Barnett to back the hell off," Deandre growled.

Adler caught the papers. He sneered, adjusting his suit jacket. "A very poor decision, Doctor."

Adler turned and left. Behind Deandre's protective back, Adriane took her first full breath in days.