Shattered Rings And Her Priceless Hidden Identity

I was rushed to the emergency room with a bleeding head after a horrific car crash.

But while the doctor was stitching my forehead, I heard the nurses whispering.

"The CEO of the Finley Group is upstairs right now, playing nurse to that pregnant actress."

My heart stopped. I ripped out my IV and dragged my battered body to the VIP suite, only to watch my billionaire husband tenderly wipe away his mistress's tears.

I filed for divorce that night and left his penthouse with nothing but a basic suitcase.

Carter was furious. He tracked me down, completely ignoring my injuries, and mocked me relentlessly.

"You're nothing but a breeding tool. You won't survive a week without my money."

When I later collapsed from severe stomach cramps, he abandoned me on the floor because his mistress faked a panic attack over the phone. He even nearly ran me over in the freezing rain as he sped back to her side.

I had loved him in secret for ten agonizing years, pouring my bleeding heart into a novel about my unrequited love. I couldn't understand how a man could be so incredibly cold-blooded to his own wife.

But Carter didn't know I was the anonymous author of that global bestselling book.

So when he tried to use his massive wealth to buy the film rights and give his mistress the lead role, I walked straight into his boardroom, slammed my contractual veto on the table, and finally fought back.