Chapter 3

Puzzled, I flipped open the folder.

Looking at the medical charts, my eyebrows knotted together. The procedure was brutally complex; one tiny slip and the patient could bleed out on the table.

Of course, I knew what Chloe was after.

The higher the stakes, the bigger the media buzz, and the more famous her private practice would become.

Which meant more wealthy clients lining up.

She never stopped to ask if I could actually pull it off.

Or what a failure would do to my career.

Seeing my silence, she snatched the file back in annoyance.

"What? You don't want to? Or are you telling me you're not good enough?"

"Gavin, don't get greedy. Do you know how many hospitals were fighting over this case? I had to bend over backward to convince the patient to come to us."

"If you weren't my husband, do you think I'd hand this to you? If you can't even handle this, you don't deserve to be my husband!"

Husband?

Looking at her sneering, entitled face, my heart went completely cold.

Even now, she had no clue our marriage was already over.

The day I handed her the divorce papers, she was busy flirting with Lucas. She scribbled her signature without even reading the header.

Just how desperate was she?

Just how little did she care about me?

If Lucas scratched his finger, she'd panic like the world was ending, ready to book a specialist just to slap on a Band-Aid.

Me? I was just a tool for her ladder of wealth and status. She didn't give a damn if I lived or died.

This time was no different.

"Gavin, say something! Stop playing dumb!"

She shoved my shoulder, jabbing a manicured finger into my face.

"Don't bite the hand that feeds you. Plenty of surgeons in this clinic would beg on their knees for this case, and I held it for you through the back door."

"You either step up and do it, or pack your crap and get out. But if you walk, don't you dare think about coming back! Think long and hard!"

I sneered inside. A high-risk case like this was a career suicide trap—nobody else dared to touch it!

She was gambling my entire future.

Before I could answer, she paused, looking around the room.

"Where's our wedding photo?"

I slid the file onto the desk without showing any emotion. "The frame broke and fell. Sent it out to be repaired."

She rolled her eyes in sheer disgust.

"Look at you—can't even handle a damn picture frame!"

"Everything you do takes forever. How hard is it to fix a frame? You're completely useless!"

"A guy like you is nothing without me. Just keep your head in the charts and don't embarrass my clinic!"

With that, she slammed the door and walked out.

See? When someone hates you, every breath you take is a mistake.

Before this, I was insecure.

She was the high-powered CEO, and I thought I had to work myself to death just to be worthy of her.

Now, I realized what a joke that was.

Lucas had sloppy hands and mediocre technique, leagues behind me.

Yet she worshipped the ground he walked on.

At the end of the day, my only crime was that she didn't love me.

Since she insisted on shoving this high-profile case into my hands, I'd gladly take it.

After all, when I switched over to the new hospital, this success would be my ultimate calling card and bargaining chip.

More importantly, it was an innocent human life on the table.

The surgery was terrifyingly difficult, but I had never backed down from a challenge.

It wasn't impossible.

I locked myself in the simulation lab, running the surgical plan over and over.

Again and again.

Every time something failed, I reset and started fresh.

For an entire week, I barely slept.

I drilled the motions until they were burned into my muscle memory.

Because only by being that fast, that precise, and that ruthless could I keep the patient safe.

During that entire week, Chloe never sent a single message asking if I was alive.

The day of the surgery, I was scrubbed in for twelve grueling hours.

The moment the final stitch was tied, my vision went dark, and I collapsed from sheer exhaustion.

When I woke up, two days had passed.

My close colleague sat by my bed, his expression tangled with pity.

A bad feeling hit me instantly.

"What happened? Did the patient crash?"

"Yes and no."

Seeing him hesitate made my chest tighten.

"Just tell me. What happened?"

"The surgery was a massive success."

I let out a breath of relief.

Nothing mattered more than that.

"But... they gave all the credit to Lucas. Chloe put out an official press release claiming he was the lead surgeon."

"So..."

Which meant I put my entire medical career on the line just to hand the glory to the man sleeping with my wife.

How dare she?

How could she do this to me?

My head spun, and my vision went black again from pure rage.