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.

The broken springs of the lobby sofa pressed painfully into Adriane's thighs.

She sat in the dim, dirty entrance of her cheap apartment building in Brooklyn. Her phone was gripped tightly in her sweaty palm. She was waiting for Deandre to call her back about the funds.

Outside, the quiet purr of a luxury engine cut through the street noise. A black Maybach pulled up to the curb.

Kassidy stepped out. She wore limited-edition red-bottom heels that clicked sharply against the cracked pavement. She walked into the lobby alone.

Kassidy's eyes darted around the room. She looked up at the corner of the ceiling. The red light on the security camera was off. It was broken. Perfect.

She walked straight to Adriane and threw a heavy manila envelope onto her lap.

The smack of the envelope hitting her legs made Adriane jump. She fumbled with her hands, feeling the rough paper.

"Chase stayed up all night finalizing these," Kassidy said. Her voice dripped with arrogance. "He waived the thirty-day waiting period. The check is inside. He just wants you gone."

Adriane's heart skipped a beat. She quickly tore open the envelope. Her fingers brushed against thick legal paper and a stiff piece of cardstock that felt like a check.

She didn't know it, but the papers were entirely forged. The check was fake. Kassidy had printed them herself to ensure Adriane would leave with nothing.

Kassidy leaned down. Her lips brushed close to Adriane's ear.

"Look at you," Kassidy hissed, her voice sounding like a snake sliding over gravel. "Selling your dignity for a piece of paper. You are nothing but a beggar."

Adriane's hands shook violently. She gripped the fake papers so hard they crumpled. The humiliation burned her chest like acid.

"At least my pain is real. Everything about you feels borrowed, Kassidy. You're just a perfect, hollow copy."

The words hit Kassidy's deepest, darkest secret. The "life-saving" debt Chase owed her was stolen from Adriane.

A flash of pure, murderous rage crossed Kassidy's face.

Just then, the sound of another car engine approached the building. It was Chase. Kassidy had texted him five minutes prior: Chase, I'm a little scared to give Adriane the papers alone, she seems unstable. Please hurry. Her timing was flawless.

Kassidy's eyes widened in calculated brilliance.

She lunged forward. She grabbed Adriane's right hand-the hand holding the papers-with a vice-like grip.

"What are you doing?!" Adriane panicked, trying to pull her arm back.

The glass doors of the lobby pushed open. Chase's tall, imposing figure stepped inside.

In the exact fraction of a second that Chase's eyes landed on them, Kassidy used Adriane's hand to slap herself violently across the face.

Smack.

The sharp sound of the slap echoed loudly in the empty lobby. A bright red handprint instantly appeared on Kassidy's cheek.

Kassidy let go of Adriane and threw herself onto the dirty floor, bursting into loud, pathetic sobs.

Adriane's hand hung frozen in the air. Her fingers tingled from the impact. Her blood turned to ice.

A vicious roar ripped from Chase's throat.

He charged forward. He grabbed Adriane by the shoulders and shoved her violently backward.

Adriane's back slammed into the peeling plaster wall. The fake documents scattered across the dirty floor.

Chase dropped to his knees. He gently pulled Kassidy into his chest. He looked at the red mark on her face. When he turned his head to look at Adriane, his eyes burned with a hatred so intense it made Adriane stop breathing.

"I just... I just came to give her the check," Kassidy cried into his shirt, her voice trembling perfectly. "And she attacked me."

Chase stood up, shielding Kassidy behind him. He looked at Adriane as if she were a piece of rotting garbage.

"You are a monster," Chase snarled, his voice vibrating with rage. "You get nothing. And tomorrow, my lawyers will serve you with a restraining order."

He wrapped his arm around Kassidy and walked out the door. The Maybach sped away.

Adriane slid down the wall until her knees hit the floor. She blindly swept her hands over the dirty tiles, gathering the scattered, useless papers, completely unaware that she had just fallen into a legal trap that would ruin her life.