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Shattered Rings And Her Priceless Hidden Identity Novel Cover

Shattered Rings And Her Priceless Hidden Identity

I was rushed to the emergency room with a bleeding head after a horrific car crash. But while the doctor was stitching my forehead, I heard the nurses whispering. "The CEO of the Finley Group is upstairs right now, playing nurse to that pregnant actress." My heart stopped. I ripped out my IV and dragged my battered body to the VIP suite, only to watch my billionaire husband tenderly wipe away his mistress's tears. I filed for divorce that night and left his penthouse with nothing but a basic suitcase. Carter was furious. He tracked me down, completely ignoring my injuries, and mocked me relentlessly. "You're nothing but a breeding tool. You won't survive a week without my money." When I later collapsed from severe stomach cramps, he abandoned me on the floor because his mistress faked a panic attack over the phone. He even nearly ran me over in the freezing rain as he sped back to her side. I had loved him in secret for ten agonizing years, pouring my bleeding heart into a novel about my unrequited love. I couldn't understand how a man could be so incredibly cold-blooded to his own wife. But Carter didn't know I was the anonymous author of that global bestselling book. So when he tried to use his massive wealth to buy the film rights and give his mistress the lead role, I walked straight into his boardroom, slammed my contractual veto on the table, and finally fought back.
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Chapter 2

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.

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