No Longer His Captive Surgeon Wife

Chapter 3

Word Count: 730 | Released on: 30/04/2026

in her chair for

iped the smear of blood from her lo

he couldn't risk taking the main elevators and

ed open the heavy fire door. The concrete sta

e pediatric VIP wing was here, and it had a vendi

or fire door and stepped into

ard the vending machines, a s

tiny, muf

her exhaustion. Amy turned her h

orative Roman pillar at the end o

m-tailored miniature suit, but right now, the expensive fabric wa

bare knee. A fresh, angry scrape was oo

footsteps and slo

s head s

ically skipped a beat. A strange, heavy sensation settled in her che

knee, ignoring th

ered in soft, gentle E

d. He just stared at her with intense, defensi

t of her white coat and pulled

and pulled out

the boy flinched, shrinking back u

ms open, to show she meant no harm. "I'm a doctor

Her fingers gently wrapp

ve a violent shudder, bu

bbed the alcohol wipe around the edges of

n and blew a soft, cool stream of air o

lders slowly melt away. The hard, defensive glare

with little green dinosaurs on it a

m a warm, reassuring smile

n her thighs, preparin

hubby little

oat. His tiny knuckles turned white fr

a suffocating knot forming instantly. Tears pricked the back of her eyes as if some deep, buried part of her soul was awakened by this tiny touch. U

eached out and gently stroked the s

uddenly lunged forward, throwing his small arms ar

her eyes, wrapped her arms around his small back, and hu

Chapter End

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No Longer His Captive Surgeon Wife

Zhen Xiang Modern

“I was a top cardiac surgeon, trapped in a dead marriage with a ruthless billionaire. One afternoon, he brought his mistress to my hospital, ordering me to perform her high-risk heart surgery. When I refused and handed him our divorce papers, he violently tore them up and threatened to erase my name from the medical community. Worse, I discovered they had a five-year-old surrogate son-bought and born the exact same year I bled out on an operating table, losing our baby. The mistress mocked my trauma, calling me a barren piece of trash who couldn't give him an heir. I slapped her across the face. The next morning, the NYPD publicly handcuffed me in my own hospital. She had framed me for attempted murder, claiming I injected her IV with a lethal dose of potassium. My husband cornered me in the interrogation room. "Just confess to me. I will throw enough money at the DA to make this entirely disappear." I looked into his dark eyes and saw nothing but raw, unfiltered suspicion. He actually believed I was a jealous murderer. I swore I would rather rot in a concrete cell for the rest of my life than bow down to them. Just as my childhood savior miraculously appeared to bail me out, my phone rang. The mistress had gone into full cardiac arrest. Only I had the surgical skill to save her. I turned around, deciding whether to let the woman who ruined my life die, or pick up my scalpel.”