Chapter 3

Julian Thorne returned late that night. He took off his blood-stained surgical scrubs, his face showing a hint of fatigue, but a triumphant joy was unmistakable in his eyes.

“Seraphina’s surgery was a success.”

He walked to my bedside, his tone flat, as if merely discussing an insignificant matter.

He noticed my pale face and the dried pool of blood on the bedside table. His brow furrowed slightly.

“What happened?”

“Julian Thorne, let’s get a divorce.”

I used every ounce of my strength to utter those words. He froze, seemingly taken aback by my bluntness.

“Chloe, don’t be ridiculous.”

He reached out to touch my forehead, but I turned my head, avoiding his touch.

“I’m not being ridiculous.” I looked at him, my eyes icy cold. “That heart is no longer viable. I don’t have much time left. I don’t want to be Mrs. Thorne when I die.”

His face finally darkened. “Just because I didn’t operate on you?”

He looked directly at me, his gaze tinged with scrutiny and impatience.

“Seraphina’s condition was more urgent than yours. I’m a doctor; I had to make the optimal choice.”

“Optimal choice?” I laughed, tears streaming down my face. “So, my life isn’t a life, is that it?”

“Chloe, can’t you be more rational?” He raised his voice.

“A heart can be found again. If anything happened to Seraphina’s hands, her entire career would be ruined.”

He was the epitome of male arrogance, always so full of himself.

Liam walked in from outside, a file in his hand. He threw it directly into Julian’s face.

“Julian Thorne, this is the heart’s purchase contract and transfer records. Thirty million, not a penny less. Either you pay up, or we’ll see you in court.”

Julian looked at the contract, his pupils contracting sharply. He turned to me, his eyes filled with shock and inquiry.

“You bought it?”

I didn’t answer him. Yes, he had always assumed this heart was a free resource, obtained through his connections and reputation.

He reveled in the glory of being a savior, never realizing the immense sacrifice my family had made behind the scenes.

“The money, I’ll pay.” Julian’s voice turned cold.

“But the divorce, I won’t agree to it.” He looked at me, his gaze deepening.

“Chloe, you are my wife. That will never change.” He turned and left, his back resolute. But in his eyes, I caught a fleeting glimpse not of love, but of calculation.

My heart sank completely. He didn’t want a divorce because he loved me; he wanted it because I was still useful to him. But what use could I possibly be? I was a woman on the verge of death.

The next day, a nurse secretly slipped me a note. On it, only one line was written: Seraphina’s car accident was fake.