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My Ex-Husband's Regret: The Surgeon's Return

Chapter 8

Word Count: 862 | Released on: 15/10/2026

ty Rom

ist, his broad chest pressing against my back u

weat, and raw metallic

st the edge of the examina

lines just to get your bandages changed? Your me

oice rough and low. "If cheap methods keep you f

my elbow, freeing myself from his g

f you're not in t

ve through the wrought-iron gates o

for three years, and walking up the limestone s

double oak doors o

mber bedside lamps cast long, intimate

the headboard, wearing only

old hockey scars, but the white gauze on his righ

shower and let the water r

o the nightstand. "I told you specifically not t

burning in the dim light. "You

ched the kit, and pulled out s

ir of latex gloves. As I leaned closer,

breathing instantly tur

bandage, my fingers accidentally brush

a low, ra

sterile swab into antiseptic and run

ot out, clamping around my wri

in the trauma bay today... was the

t his. "Mr. Peck, doctors feel responsib

tered whatever thin threa

violent yank, h

next second, my back

ardwood floor, spilling scissors

my head with his massive left hand, hi

eing you on Ezra Norton's arm at that

be jealous! When you dragged Karlie Nguyen down every red

ever slept with

suffocating, possessive heat. He lowered his head, his lips grazing my earlobe,

ood. You're m

te conquest, tasting of smoke and raw copper, but it quic

racing the curves of my body throug

y for him. My rigid muscles slowly betrayed me, softening under his touch. The hands that were balled

rrender to the intoxicati

rilled from t

t up with "Ka

warmth and seductive tenderness vanished

om my lips, letting go of my

"Garold! Help me! There's a drunk man outside my apartme

oncern. He sat up instantly, turning his back to m

e cold air hitting my flushed skin, fee

Chapter End

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My Ex-Husband's Regret: The Surgeon's Return

Flying Free Mafia

“"Take the dress off and give it to her." At a star-studded gala, my billionaire secret husband stood shielding his delicate rumored mistress, staring at me with cold authority. "She likes it. Take it off. Don't be so petty. Otherwise, your best friend's brand will be dead by morning." Looking at the man I had loved for thirteen years, I suddenly felt nothing but a wave of pure disgust. "Sure." I smirked, and in front of the city's elite, I poured my full glass of champagne directly over his bespoke leather shoes. Then, I reached behind my back, unzipped the gown, and let the $60,000 velvet pool at my ankles. Amidst the gasps of the entire ballroom, I walked out into the freezing blizzard wearing nothing but a thin silk slip, clinging to the arm of his fiercest rival. Later, he thought cutting off my abusive family's funding and buying the deed to my dead mother's house would force me to crawl back to him like a dog. The next day, he blocked my path with condescending arrogance. "Are you done throwing this tantrum? Come home." My answer was a "PETITION FOR DISSOLUTION OF MARRIAGE" slammed hard against his chest. At that moment, the ruthless hockey tyrant, who wouldn't blink at a broken rib on the ice, locked his eyes on the glaring, ambiguous red bite mark on my neck. His facade finally shattered. "Whose mark is that on your neck?!" he roared, his eyes bloodshot, trembling as he reached for my hand. I stepped back in pure disgust, my red lips curving into a smirk. "Move, ex-husband. You're blocking my way to my next date." This time, I'm not just dumping this blind bastard. I'm going to make him watch as I crush everything he is so proud of beneath my heels.”