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Side Chick's Joyride, Fiancé's Meltdown
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Side Chick's Joyride, Fiancé's Meltdown

Elite heart surgeon Dr. Elena possesses a government-issued, armored SUV reserved for high-stakes medical emergencies. When a critical transplant for the Chancellor arises, she rushes to retrieve her vehicle from her fiancé, Marco Varonetti. However, she finds a stranger in the backseat demanding a mall trip. Elena discovers that Marco has been using her federal asset to entertain another woman. Now, she must reclaim her car and face the criminal implications of Marco's betrayal.
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Chapter 2

He was being impossible.

"You better think this through," I said, biting down my rage. "If you waste my time, Grandpa Donato's heart won't make it."

I was supposed to operate on Marco's grandfather tonight.

But if I couldn't save Chancellor Ravel in time, Donato would be stuck waiting—every minute more dangerous than the last.

"Enough!" Marco snapped. "Don't think I don't know you've been lying!

"I looked into it. That first heart procedure on Grandpa? Minor. Any doctor could've done it. You just tricked him into thinking you were special so you could marry in."

He grit his teeth. "Well, congrats. I'm not ending the engagement, but you're never touching him again."

My chest tightened.

"No—this surgery REALLY can only be done by—"

"Still acting, huh?" He sounded bored. "Sophia found a foreign heart expert. Surgery's been moved up. You're off the case."

Moved up?

And no one bothered to tell me—the lead surgeon?

If I wasn't stuck on this mission, I'd be sprinting back to the hospital to shut it down myself.

But I couldn't.

I was out of moves.

"If something goes wrong, are YOU taking the blame?" I snapped.

People waited months for a shot at my OR. Donato? He only got through because of Marco. Normally, he wouldn't even make the list.

If they didn't want my help, I wasn't going to beg.

Silence.

He hadn't expected me to fold that fast.

"Nothing's going wrong," he said quickly. "I'm fully responsible."

Click.

He hung up.

With Marco throwing me under the bus, the maid—who'd clearly been living for the drama—snorted. "Regretting it now, huh?"

She rolled her eyes. "Ms. Caro's not just some intern. She moved in like, a month after joining. Mr. Varonetti spoils her nonstop. Told all of us to treat her like the LADY OF THE HOUSE. No one dares cross her. Who do YOU think you are?"

Lady of the house?

I really thought I misheard. They had a "lady" before I was even married to him?

"You people really don't know Marco Varonetti has a fiancée?" I asked.

The maid sneered. "Please. He said once that idiot woman comes in, she can walk right back out. The ONLY woman he recognizes is Ms. Caro."

Sophia exhaled dramatically, flashing a smug grin—and the diamond ring on her finger.

I laughed. Dry. Bitter.

The Varonettis?

Absolutely unreal.

If I'd known Marco was this disgusting, I'd have never said yes.

I checked the time—thirty minutes till takeoff.

Miss this flight, and the whole mission's screwed.

"Last warning," I said coolly. "Delay me, and you won't be able to handle the fallout. Hand over the car now, and maybe I'll still vouch for you."

Sophia's eyes flickered.

Then she laughed. "You're just a driver. Your ENTIRE salary couldn't buy a single pair of my shoes! Even if I beat you to death, I could cover the cost without blinking."

No time to waste.

She wasn't moving, so I ditched the car and called a taxi. I had thirty minutes to make that flight.

I was steps from the door when something slammed into my stomach. Hard.

My phone flew. I hit the floor like dead weight.

Pain ripped through me—felt like my insides were tearing apart. Blood filled my mouth. I choked and spit it out.

Sophia strolled over, smug as ever, and dug her stiletto into my cheek.

"Trying to leave without apologizing?"

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