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The Ghost Surgeon's Revenge: Rising From Ashes

Chapter 8 No.8

Word Count: 777    |    Released on: 30/01/2026

t. The kind of silence

cer didn't wait. He grabbed Ayla by t

Ayla screamed, cl

he fell hard, her knees skidding on the

You ungrateful bitch. After everything I

ing the side of her phone in her pocket, activating the audio recorder

a, and then he laughed. "So you k

ing, Ayla. You're going to stay here, be the perfect wife, and wait until I get my trust

I signed the papers three years

d. "Those papers are

nged

ross the face. The force of it sent her spinning int

n her vision. Sh

d, grabbing her throat. He s

the. Black spots d

he choked out.

ed slightly. "Sterling? You're

en, pure rage took over. "You're lyi

sed hi

IC

power grid being shut down. The lights went out. The air conditioning died. An

tairs, quick

, turning toward the d

d with a smooth, silent precision, the lock disen

ing stood in

nd trousers, looking less like a thug and more like the personification of de

w the blood on her lip. The

sn't human. It was pure

" Ayla w

. He crossed th

s up. "Now wait a minute, Ste

d with Spencer's jaw w

shing into the armoire. He

slammed him into the wall. His movements were brutally efficient, a serie

ethodica

, crawling forward

rumpled like a broken doll, wheez

chest was heaving. His knuc

r to protector. He took off his turtleneck, leaving him in

se?" Julian asked, his voice

obbed. "Just

p into his arms. He

loor. "You... you can't

e looked down at

if you ever come within ten miles of her again

of the room, steppin

said to the men behin

e, sir?"

e servers, the medical files from his stu

night air. Ayla buried her f

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The Ghost Surgeon's Revenge: Rising From Ashes
The Ghost Surgeon's Revenge: Rising From Ashes
“I was the trophy wife of Wall Street's golden boy, Spencer Elliott. For three years, I played the part of the perfect, silent spouse, enduring his coldness and his mother's venom. I did it all because Spencer was the only person paying for the experimental medical care keeping my dying mother alive. But during a high-society gala, the gilded cage finally broke. I overheard Spencer laughing with his mistress about the "custom cocktail" he was feeding my mother. He wasn't paying for her cure; he was paying a doctor to systematically poison her with sedatives to keep me dependent and compliant until his forty-million-dollar inheritance vested. When I tried to confront him, the mask of the perfect husband shattered. He dragged me by my hair into our bedroom and slammed me against the wall, his eyes cold and murderous. "If you ever try to leave, your mother gets an overdose. Accidentally, of course." He told me I was nothing more than a pawn for his payout. I realized then that my entire marriage was a calculated swindle, and the man I thought was my savior was actually my mother's executioner. The betrayal was so deep it turned my blood to ice. Every sacrifice I had made and every humiliation I had swallowed was built on a monstrous lie. I felt a cold, sharp rage replacing my despair, a surgeon's focus shifting from healing to a much more dangerous kind of excision. That's when Julian Sterling, the most feared man in the city, stepped out of the shadows to burn my world down. He rescued me from Spencer's violence and promised me a life of freedom, but as I finally exhaled in his arms, my secret burner phone buzzed with an encrypted message. The man who originally ruined my family was back, and the last time he was seen, he was standing right next to Julian. Is my new protector my greatest ally, or the target I've been hunting all along?”