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Spare Part Wife: Liver For His Mistress

Chapter 5 No.5

Word Count: 877 | Released on: 22/01/2026

ain had stopped, leaving a crisp, bright light th

amas. She was wearing a sharp white blazer and tailored

cking at a plate of eggs. He looked

u're going?" he asked.

ed herself a cup of black coffee. She

e wiped his mouth with a li

her the liver

shoulders up near his ears melted away. He let out a breath. "

ition," Jada

ed out a cocktail napkin. She slid i

ord written on

in. His jaw clenched. A m

iage after the surgery," he said dism

pers signed and filed before anesthesia. Or I don't get on the table.

oked at her. He saw the resolve

or you. I can set you up for life. Even if we separat

rsing Home. Enough to cover my grandmother's care for the rest of her life, with no strings attached. No way fo

ver. She was giving him the liver. Why did the thought of her wanting

he argued, trying to use logic. "A t

er in a motel 6 if I have

looking for the bluff.

to leave him so badly. Angry that his th

he legal team. Urgent divorce settlement. Uncontes

be in my room until

ke he was losing control, even though he

nto a war room. Three lawyers in gray suits sat around t

down and picked up the

use in the Hamptons. An alimony payment of fifty thousand a month for

a large X through the entire f

ated, pushing the trust document to the si

Mr. Sterling, looked shocked.

I leave with what I came with.

tanding by the window, his back to the

had no hold on her. It meant she wasn't leaving because she

, Jada!" he yelled.

, Darius," she held

hand. He signed his name on the designated line, p

arled, throwin

e torn signature. "We have to finalize it a

orrow morning. Then we go

slamming the glass door behin

e lawyers. "Thank

up and w

Chapter End

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Spare Part Wife: Liver For His Mistress

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“I wore my favorite emerald silk dress to Per Se, thinking our third anniversary would finally be the night Darius came back to me. My heart was pounding with hope, but the moment he covered the rim of my champagne glass with a cold, marble-like hand, that hope died. He didn't bring a gift; he brought a personal assistant and a medical consent form. His ex-girlfriend, Hazel, was dying of liver failure, and I was the only compatible match they had found in the world. The realization hit me like a physical blow: he hadn't married me for love, but for a "harvest." When I screamed that I wasn't a spare part, he didn't even flinch. Instead, he threatened to pull the funding for my grandmother's Alzheimer's care, holding the only family I had left hostage to save his "one who got away." He locked me in our penthouse under a high-tech security protocol, guarded by private contractors like a prisoner in a gilded cage. While I was trapped, he was at the hospital holding Hazel's hand, wearing the Patek Philippe watch I'd bought him for his birthday. I watched their updates on social media, Hazel tagging him as her "hero" and "true love," while I was left alone in the dark. Darius told his lawyers I was just being "dramatic" and that I'd get over it once the settlement check cleared. Every memory of our three years together felt like a long-term investment in an organ transplant. How could I have been so blind? How could the man who promised to cherish me turn into a monster who only saw me as a regenerating asset? I stopped fighting and started calculating. I agreed to the surgery on one condition: a signed divorce decree and an ironclad trust for my grandmother that he could never touch. I refused his millions, took back my maiden name, and walked into that hospital with my head held high. I was giving them the piece of me they wanted, but it was the last thing they would ever take. As the elevator doors closed on Darius's desperate face, I knew that when I woke up, I would finally be free.”