The engine's roar throbbed like a caged, enraged beast against Rachel's ribs. Her husband, movie star Austin, was straddling a heavily modified beast of a motorbike, poised to attempt that deadly leap. Rachel's fists were clenched white, nails digging crescent moons into her palms. This stupid stunt – he could have said no.
The director, a bald, squat man with a greasy face, barked into Austin's helmet, impatience dripping from every syllable. "What are you gawking at? Want the whole crew to wait till dawn? Get on the bike, or get off my set!"
Austin let out a long sigh, a sound that seemed to pierce the thick helmet and land directly in Rachel's chest. He settled the helmet, twisted the throttle, and the engine shrieked, the tires spitting a acrid smell of burning rubber into the air. The motorcycle shot forward like an arrow released from a bow, carrying with it all of her hopes and every single one of her fears.
The next second, a black blur vanished from her sight, followed by a sickening screech of metal, the splintering crack of something breaking, and then – a single, gut-wrenching *CRACK*.
Rachel didn't even have time to scream. Her knees buckled, threatening to give out beneath her. Smoke billowed. Screams erupted from the bewildered crew. She shoved through the frantic crowd, her eyes scanning. Austin lay motionless beside the twisted wreckage of the bike. A blossoming stain of crimson beneath him spread, horrifyingly vivid. It felt as if an icy hand had squeezed her heart, stealing her breath.
The wail of an ambulance grew closer. Yet the director, like a maniac, flailed his arms, shouting at the stunned faces around him, "Stand-in! Get a stand-in! This movie doesn't stop!" He even pointed at a pale, trembling actress nearby. "You! Get ready!"
"To hell with your movie!" Rachel's roar seemed to rip through the very air, "Austin is hurt! I'm going with him!"
The director's mouth opened, ready to unleash another vile curse. But a steady figure stepped in front of him. It was Austin's personal assistant, a quiet man with silver hair. His glacial gaze swept over the director's fleshy neck, his voice dangerously low, each word a chip of ice: "She goes, Austin goes. And I, go too. You're welcome to try and see how you'll shoot this film after simultaneously losing a superstar and a renowned singer."
The director's face instantly drained from crimson to ashen white, like a duck suddenly choked, utterly speechless.
Rachel scrambled into a black Uber, urgently rattling off the hospital name: "St. Mercy Hospital! Emergency! Please, hurry!"
The driver, wearing a thick mask and sunglasses, revealed only a pair of deep-set eyes. He didn't immediately start the car. Instead, he slowly, maddeningly slowly, pulled a pack of gum from the storage compartment, peeling back the wrapper with a deliberate pace that pushed Rachel to the brink.
"I have a friend who's a nurse in the ER," the driver drawled, his voice deep, as if rising from the earth itself. "He says, often, people who look fine at the scene, once they get to the hospital, they find out their spine's snapped, internal organs are pulp. Keeping them alive is a miracle, but the rest of their lives... well, they're just that."
Each word was a hammer blow, striking Rachel's heart. She couldn't bear to imagine Austin losing his ability to move. "No... it won't be!" Her voice was a hoarse sob. Her vision blurred, the image of Austin lying in a pool of blood burning in her mind. "Austin..."
Just then, the car pulled to a slow stop on a secluded side road. Rachel looked up, confused. All she saw were weeds and a high wall. "Hey! Why are you stopping?! There's no traffic light here!"
The driver let out a low, stifled chuckle, a sound that, even through the mask, carried a familiar, utterly infuriating cadence. He slowly removed his mask, then his sunglasses.
That perfectly unmarred, devastatingly handsome face, now sporting a triumphant, wicked smirk, belonged to Austin! He leaned over, his voice laced with a casual arrogance, "I think, now, *I* should drive."
Rachel's fury erupted like a volcano, instantly overwhelming all her fear and shock. She wanted to scream, to demand answers, to beat him senseless! But in the end, all the words choked in her throat, coalescing into a single, almost guttural sound, filled with murderous intent:
"AUSTIN!"
She swore, if looks could kill, that car would have been reduced to ashes.
After a perfect year of marriage, Austin and Rachel's lives are shattered when his vengeful ex-costar Amanda is released from prison—claiming she’s his real wife. Thrust into a public “divorce” while the cameras roll on a blockbuster film, Austin and Rachel uncover secrets that could tear them apart forever… or make them fall in love all over again.
