Chapter 2

Ava Miller POV

The airbag tasted like dust and burnt rubber, gritty against my tongue.

My ears were ringing-a high-pitched, drilling whine that drowned out the rain drumming on the roof of my overturned car.

I was hanging upside down. My seatbelt dug into my chest, a vice crushing my ribs. My left arm was bent at an angle that made me nauseous just looking at it. Pain radiated from my shoulder in hot, pulsing waves, stealing my breath.

"Ava!"

I heard my name. It sounded far away, filtered through water.

"Ava, can you hear me?"

I blinked, fighting the black spots dancing in my vision. Through the spiderwebbed windshield, I saw boots. Expensive leather boots.

Ethan.

He was here. He had come for me. Relief washed over me, momentarily numbing the pain. He didn't mean what he said on the phone. He couldn't have. He was here to save me.

"Ethan..." I croaked. My throat felt full of glass shards.

"She's in here!" Ethan yelled. But he wasn't looking at me. He was looking past my car, his eyes wild.

I tried to turn my head, ignoring the scream of protest from my neck. A few yards away, another car was crumpled against a lamppost. A red convertible.

Chloe Vance's car.

"Chloe!" Ethan shouted. He sprinted past my window. He didn't even pause. He didn't glance at the blood dripping from my forehead.

"Ethan, please," I whispered. The pain in my arm flared, sharp and blinding.

I watched, helpless, as my fiancé wrenched the door off the hinges of the red convertible with a roar of adrenaline. He pulled Chloe out. She was crying, clinging to him. She looked fine. Not a scratch marred her perfect, tanned skin.

"My neck," she wailed. "Ethan, my neck hurts."

"I've got you, baby," Ethan said. His voice was thick with panic. Real panic. The kind he never showed for me. "I've got you. The ambulance is coming."

He cradled her in his arms, kissing her hair desperately.

"What about her?" Chloe pointed a shaking finger toward my car.

Ethan glanced at me. For a second, our eyes met.

I saw nothing in his gaze. No love. No worry. Just annoyance. Like I was a stain on his favorite shirt-an inconvenience to be scrubbed away.

"Don't worry about her," Ethan said, loud enough for me to hear. "She's tough. She's fine."

He turned his back on me.

Darkness crept into the edges of my vision. The pain was too much. The heartbreak was worse.

I let go.

*

When I woke up, the walls were white. The sharp smell of antiseptic stung my nose.

"She's awake," a voice said. Sharp. Angry.

Maya.

I tried to sit up, but a heavy cast weighed down my left arm. My head throbbed with a dull, rhythmic ache.

"Don't move," Maya said, rushing to my side. Her eyes were red-rimmed. "You have a concussion and a compound fracture. You've been in surgery for six hours."

"Ethan?" I asked. The name slipped out before I could stop it. Old habits die hard.

Maya's face hardened into stone. "He's not here, Ava."

"Is he hurt?"

"He's fine," Maya spat. "He's currently in the VIP suite on the top floor. With *her*. Apparently, Miss Vance has a sprained wrist. A tragedy."

The memory of the phone call rushed back, cold and sharp. *Property. Hall pass.*

"He planned it," I whispered, the realization settling in my chest like lead. Tears pricked my eyes. "He wanted to fake amnesia."

Maya froze. "What?"

"I heard him. Before the crash. He was talking to Leo. He called me his property."

Maya gripped the bed rail, her knuckles turning white. "That son of a bitch. I told you. I warned you about the Reeds. They don't love, Ava. They possess."

Just then, the door opened.

It wasn't Ethan. It was a man in a gray suit. I recognized him instantly. Mr. Sterling. The Reed family lawyer.

"Miss Miller," he said, not making eye contact. He placed a folder on the bedside table with a soft *thud*.

"Where is Ethan?" I asked.

"Mr. Reed is... indisposed," Sterling said smoothly. "He has suffered significant memory trauma from the accident. He does not recall the last seven years."

The lie. The script. He was actually doing it.

"He remembers Chloe Vance though, doesn't he?" Maya challenged, stepping between me and the lawyer like a shield.

Sterling ignored her. "Mr. Reed has instructed me to handle his affairs while he recovers. As you are not legally family, the Reed estate will not be covering your medical expenses."

"What?" Maya shouted. "She was in an accident involving him! She's his fiancée!"

"*Former* fiancée," Sterling corrected, his tone devoid of warmth. "Since Mr. Reed has no memory of the engagement, it is effectively null and void."

He tapped the folder with a manicured finger.

"This is an eviction notice for the apartment. The lease is in Mr. Reed's name. You have forty-eight hours to vacate the premises."

"She can't walk!" Maya screamed. "She just had surgery!"

"Forty-eight hours," Sterling repeated. He turned on his heel and walked out.

I stared at the folder.

My arm was broken. My head was spinning. My heart was shattered into a million pieces.

And the man I loved had just thrown me away like garbage to make room for his mistress.