Chapter 3

Evelyn stood on the soaked sidewalk, the rain soaking through her thin coat, and flagged down a ride-share car.

She gave the driver the address for The Plaza Hotel. The car merged into traffic, heading straight toward Central Park.

Walking into the opulent lobby, she bypassed the main desk and used her private, unmonitored credit card to book a suite.

The bellhop carried her black suitcase into the room, gave a polite bow, and quietly backed out of the door.

Evelyn threw the deadbolt and hung the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the handle.

She kicked off her ruined heels and collapsed face-first onto the massive, soft bed, her muscles screaming in exhaustion.

The stitches on her forehead throbbed with a hot, pulsing pain. She closed her eyes, quickly slipping into a shallow, restless sleep.

She didn't know how much time had passed when a violent, rapid pounding on the door jolted her awake.

Before she could sit up, the muffled sound of a harsh argument bled through the heavy door. "Mr. Finley, you cannot-" a hotel manager pleaded. The electronic lock beeped sharply. The door was shoved open, and Carter Finley stormed into the suite, tossing a master hotel keycard directly at the terrified manager's chest before slamming the door shut.

He brought the freezing dampness of the rain and a suffocating wave of anger with him.

Evelyn shot up from the mattress, her hands instinctively gripping the edge of the duvet.

The loud bang echoed off the high ceilings of the suite.

His eyes were bloodshot. He demanded to know what the hell the papers on his desk meant.

Evelyn let out a dry, humorless laugh. She pointed a shaking finger at the door and told him to get out.

Her dismissal ignited the rage he had been suppressing all night. He crossed the room in three long strides.

He grabbed her wrist, his grip bruising and impossibly strong.

He pushed her backward onto the mattress, his large frame casting a dark shadow that completely engulfed her.

Evelyn inhaled sharply. The distinct, sterile smell of hospital sanitizer clung to his suit jacket. Her stomach violently lurched.

She fought wildly, her fingernails scraping hard across the back of Carter's hand, leaving bright red scratches.

The extreme physical exhaustion and the lingering trauma of the crash suddenly triggered a severe stress response. Her vision blurred.

She squeezed her eyes shut, her body trembling uncontrollably as she began to mumble incoherently.

"Don't hurt my mom," she whispered, her voice broken. "Don't take her away."

Carter froze instantly. The muscles in his back went rigid, and his pupils contracted.

The crushing pressure on her wrists vanished. A flash of deep confusion and raw pain crossed his face.

He slowly reached out a trembling hand, his fingers moving toward the white gauze on her forehead.

Just as his fingertips were about to brush her skin, the sharp, customized ringtone of his phone pierced the silence.

It was the specific ringtone he had assigned only to Brianna.

Carter's hand stopped in mid-air. His jaw clenched tight, the muscle ticking under his skin. He pulled the phone from his pocket and answered it.

He lowered his voice, speaking softly into the receiver, promising her he would be right back to the hospital. He turned around and walked out.

The door clicked shut. Evelyn opened her eyes in the pitch-black room, hot tears sliding silently down her temples into her hair.