Chapter 300

Victoria Sterling was hauled toward the hospital entrance like a ragdoll. The commotion drew a crowd of wide-eyed medical staff, their whispers cutting through the sterile air.

At this point, she had nothing left to lose—not even the tattered remains of her pride.

Hah!

In perfect unison, Oliver Sinclair and the bodyguard released their grip. Victoria crumpled to the floor in a heap of designer fabric and shattered dignity.

"Got any sanitizer?" Oliver asked, wiping his hands on his suit jacket.

The bodyguard shook his head. "Sorry, Mr. Sinclair."

"Disgusting," Oliver muttered, shooting Victoria a look of pure disdain. "Get some antiseptic wipes from the nurses. We need to sterilize after touching trash."

With that, he turned on his heel and strode through the automatic doors, leaving Victoria sprawled on the cold tiles.

Outside, thunder split the sky like a gunshot. Within seconds, rain hammered down in sheets, steaming against the pavement.

Too broken to move, Victoria sat motionless as the storm drenched her. Her once-pristine updo unraveled into ratty strands. Smudged mascara streaked her cheeks like war paint.

"Nathan Blackwood, I saved your life!" she shrieked, slapping a puddle in fury. Muddy water splashed into her eyes, and she howled when her bedazzled acrylic nails snapped off.

Just then, a sleek Rolls-Royce Phantom screeched to a halt inches from her knees, spraying her with gutter filth.

"You reckless idiot!" Victoria scrambled backward, screeching like a harpy. "I'll sue you into oblivion!"

The driver emerged with a black umbrella, ignoring her completely. He opened the rear door with ceremonial precision.

Sebastian Kingsley stepped out first, taking the umbrella. He held it aloft as his brother Dominic exited the vehicle. Even through the downpour, the Kingsley brothers radiated lethal elegance.

Victoria's curses died in her throat.

"Ms. Sterling," Dominic drawled, eyeing her bedraggled form. "Isn't your father at Memorial Hospital? Why the performance here?"

"Let's go," Sebastian said coldly. "Evelyn's waiting."

They walked past without another glance, their Italian loafers avoiding the puddles—and the woman drowning in them.

"Why?" Victoria clawed at her sodden dress. "Why does Evelyn Carter get everything? Love. Protection. Even Nathan chose her over me!"

Lightning flashed, illuminating her twisted expression.

"I'll kill you, Evelyn," she whispered to the storm. "I swear on my life, I'll watch you burn."

Inside the private suite, Evelyn hummed a lullaby while tucking Eleanor Blackwood into bed. The girl's eyelashes fluttered shut, her breathing steady at last.

Exhaustion weighed on Evelyn's shoulders as she crept toward the door. When she opened it, Nathan stood frozen in the hallway.

His Armani suit was immaculate, but his eyes were shattered.

Evelyn's gaze dropped to his lapel—to the dragon-engraved platinum tie pin glittering there.

Her stomach clenched. She'd designed that piece during their first Valentine's as husband and wife. Had personally selected the Burmese rubies. Had imagined it would symbolize their forever.

Now it felt like a slap in the face.

Just like how he'd commissioned Crimson Promise for Victoria.

A bitter smile touched Evelyn's lips. How ironic that he'd dusted off her discarded gift now.

As if sentiment could undo betrayal.