Chapter 1

As the only neurosurgeon in the city qualified to perform high-risk brainstem tumor resections, I got paged for an emergency.

Five years ago, my daughter was in a car crash. Intracranial hemorrhage. She needed an emergency craniotomy.

I begged my husband, Richard Hayes, desperately, to sign off on the surgery, but he shoved me aside and redirected the entire team to his sister, Isabelle Hayes. A cosmetic procedure.

"Isabelle has an audition tomorrow. Her face can't have a scar," Richard roared.

My daughter missed the critical window and died on that cold operating table.

I divorced Richard that day. From then on, I threw myself into the OR like a woman possessed, becoming the master of this scalpel.

Today. Same ward. Same brainstem rupture. A life hanging by a thread.

When I saw the patient's file, I snorted coldly.

Even if I died, I'd never forget Isabelle's face.

I stripped off my surgical gown and tossed the medical chart toward hospital director Robert Hale. "I'm not taking this case."

*****

"I'm not performing this surgery." I pulled off my scrubs and tossed them into the linen hamper.

Robert's face went pale. "Come on, Evelyn, take another look."

I didn't turn around. "There's nothing to see."

Robert followed me out, still clutching the chart. "The patient's critical. Brainstem tumor rupture. She could die any second."

I stopped at the end of the hallway. "Then let her die."

Robert sucked in a breath. "Do you know who the family is?"

I looked up at him. "Richard Hayes, the CEO of the Hayes Group."

Robert lowered his voice. "He said if you scrub in, 20 million hits the hospital's account immediately.

"Evelyn, that's not pocket change. You know the hospital's financial situation. If you refuse, we might actually go under."

I pulled the chart from his hand.

I flipped it open. Isabelle's name stared up from the first page.

I stared at the name for two seconds, closed the chart, and dropped it into the trash can beside me.

Robert was stunned. "Evelyn, are you crazy?"

I wiped my fingers. "Like I give a damn if the hospital shuts down."

Robert's lips trembled. "But you're a doctor."

I looked at him. "A doctor isn't a dog. I don't wag my tail every time someone throws me a bone."

Robert was about to say something else when the office door was kicked open. A man in a suit stormed in, followed by two bodyguards. One bodyguard was carrying a black box.

The man in the suit slammed the box onto the desk. The lid popped open. The box was filled with cash.

"Dr. Brooks, right?" The man in a suit lifted his chin. "Mr. Hayes sent us. 700 thousand upfront. You save Isabelle, you get the rest."

I didn't glance at the money. "Take it away."

The man in the suit smirked. "Not enough? You doctors always act holier-than-thou. But offer enough money, and you'll still crawl for it."

Robert got anxious. "Peter, watch your mouth."

Peter jabbed a finger at me. "I'm talking to her. Don't butt in.

"Mr. Hayes is doing her a favor letting her operate. Know your place."

I hit the intercom. "Security. My office. Now."

Peter's face darkened. "Evelyn, what the hell? You're kicking me out?"

I pulled out my chair and sat. "I'm not only kicking you out. I'm sick of you polluting my office."

Peter slammed his hand down on the desk. "Do you know what happens to people who cross Mr. Hayes?"

I stared at the back of his hand. "Get your hand off my desk."

Peter let out a cold laugh. "What if I don't?"

I pulled a pair of surgical scissors from the drawer. Snip. The blades clicked open and shut.

Peter jerked his hand back.

I said, "Touch my desk again, and you'll be eating with a spoon from now on."

Peter's face went pale.