Chapter 8

Finley left the Aston Martin parked illegally in the ambulance loading zone. She shoved a pair of oversized Tom Ford sunglasses over her swollen, red eyes and marched through the sliding glass doors of Mount Sinai Hospital.

She kept her head down, avoiding the front desk. She remembered the layout from the night her grandfather was admitted. She bypassed the main elevators and slipped into the private VIP lift.

She hit the button for the 16th floor. The elevator hummed upward. The sterile smell of bleach and rubbing alcohol made her stomach churn with anxiety and rage.

The doors slid open.

Finley peeked around the corner. Down the long, quiet corridor, two of Haiden's massive bodyguards stood outside Room 1608.

She waited. A nurse walked by, holding a chart. One of the bodyguards turned to ask the nurse a question, stepping slightly away from the door.

Finley moved like a ghost. She sprinted down the hall, grabbed the heavy metal handle of Room 1608, and shoved it open with all her body weight.

The door slammed against the wall with a deafening crash.

Everyone in the room froze.

Finley stood in the doorway, her phone raised high, the camera already recording.

On the hospital bed lay Clara. She was shockingly pale, her skin almost translucent beneath the harsh fluorescent lights. An oxygen mask covered half her face.

Haiden was leaning over the bed. One of his large hands was wrapped tightly around Clara's frail fingers. His other hand was resting on the head of a little blonde boy-Leo-who was crying softly.

The perfect, tragic family portrait.

"How touching," Finley sneered, her voice dripping with acid. She stepped further into the room, keeping the camera pointed right at them.

Leo let out a terrified scream at the loud noise. He scrambled backward, hiding behind Haiden's long legs, burying his face in the dark fabric of his suit trousers.

Haiden dropped Clara's hand instantly. He spun around, shielding the boy with his body.

When he saw Finley, his eyes turned into black holes of pure, murderous rage. "Get out," he snarled, his voice a guttural threat.

Finley ignored him. She stepped closer to the bed, shoving the phone toward Clara's face.

"Is this the bitch?" Finley screamed. "What kind of pathetic tricks did you use to hook the Blackwell family dog?"

Clara gasped, her eyes wide with panic. She reached up with trembling hands, trying to pull the oxygen mask down to speak.

The effort was too much. Clara began to cough-a violent, wet, tearing sound. The heart monitor beside the bed instantly started shrieking, the red numbers flashing wildly.

Haiden snapped.

He lunged forward, moving faster than Finley could react. He snatched the phone out of her hand and hurled it against the concrete wall.

The phone shattered into pieces, glass and plastic raining down on the floor.

Finley shrieked in fury. She lunged toward the bed, her hands outstretched, trying to grab the collar of Clara's hospital gown.

Haiden caught her from behind. He wrapped both of his massive arms around her waist, locking her against his chest in an inescapable iron grip.

"Let me go!" Finley thrashed wildly, kicking backward with her heels.

"Daddy, don't fight!" Leo screamed, sobbing hysterically in the corner.

That word-Daddy-snapped the last string of Finley's sanity. She twisted her upper body and sank her teeth hard into Haiden's forearm.

She bit down until she tasted blood.

Haiden let out a sharp grunt of pain, but his grip didn't loosen a single millimeter. He held her suspended off the ground.

"Get the doctors!" Haiden roared at the bodyguards standing paralyzed in the doorway.

A swarm of nurses and a doctor rushed into the room, pushing past them to get to Clara, who was now convulsing on the bed.

Taking advantage of the chaos, Haiden dragged Finley backward out of the room. He kicked open the door to an empty doctors' lounge across the hall and threw her inside.

Finley crashed onto a leather sofa. Her hair was a tangled mess, her chest heaving as she gasped for air. She glared at him, her eyes burning with lethal hatred.

Haiden slammed the door and locked it. He stood leaning against the wood, his chest rising and falling heavily. Blood seeped through the white fabric of his shirt where she had bitten him.

He looked at her, exhaustion and despair warring in his eyes.

"Clara is a friend," Haiden said, his voice tight, trying to force the words through his anger. "Leo is my godson. There is nothing going on between us."

Finley threw her head back and laughed. It was a manic, broken sound.

"He called you Daddy!" she screamed, pointing at the door. "Do you think I'm an idiot?"

She stared at the shattered pieces of her phone, a wave of sheer, helpless panic crashing over her. The only leverage she had was gone. Her chest heaved as the panic rapidly morphed into a wild, hysterical anger. "You destroyed the evidence!" she shrieked, pointing a shaking finger at him. "You think you can just break my phone and hide this? I'm going to tell my grandfather! I'm going to tell everyone what a disgusting liar you are!"

Haiden closed his eyes. A muscle feathered in his jaw. He realized then that she was completely unreachable. The truth didn't matter anymore.

When he opened his eyes, the exhaustion was gone. Only the ruthless CEO remained.

"If you leak that video to the press," Haiden said, his voice dropping to a terrifying whisper, "I will dismantle Blackwell Industries piece by piece. I will ruin your family."

Finley felt a chill run down her spine at the absolute certainty in his voice. But she refused to back down.

"I'm going to my grandfather," Finley spat, lifting her chin. "I'm ending this marriage today."

She shoved past him, unlocking the door, and ran down the hallway, leaving him bleeding in the quiet room.