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Divorcing The Billionaire: The Hidden Tech Tycoon

Chapter 3 

Word Count: 1327    |    Released on: Today at 19:58

he double-paned glass entrance of th

was chalk-white, her lips bitten raw. She used her left shoulder to push

ral triage desk, Clara Sullivan, the senior charge nurse on duty, took one glanc

n!" Clara wheeled a trauma chair forward immediately, her voice urge

ently. Her voice was th

st debride the wound an

e overhead surgical lamp in t

epidermis had completely peeled back across a wide stretch of skin, and

l shears. With practiced care, she began cutting away the remnants o

ra warned softly. "If the pain becomes

through the charred wool fib

hard that the metallic tast

ng white against the edge of the examination table. Through the

d sterile saline. The freezing liquid tore throu

d, soaking into the paper sheet beneath her, but her a

echoed down the polished corridor, accompanied by the o

rgery is already scrubbing in at VIP Suit

slightly, but she did not turn h

is broad arm wrapped protectively a

owel against her index finger, leaning her entire body weight

udly enough for the entire wing to hear. "Will I ever

enched, his baritone voice car

Even if there is only a faint speck of redness, I will make

of the trauma room partition, C

eps halted

e ruptured blood blisters across Gracie's arm. Dark crimson fluid was dripp

le outrage, her voice filteri

l splash. This looks like deliberate, vicious domestic violence. Honey

out dry, detached,

onal loss during a service contrac

as felt as though a thunderbol

ray pupils contracted violently, and an acute,

ic reality of Gracie's injury

f pink. But inside the room, Gracie's arm looked as if it had been thrust stra

ng his gaze toward the trauma room, a flicker o

her weight against his ribs, a

o dizzy. The hall

as did not immediately

open the sliding glass door of the trauma room with such f

aci

dress shoes shattering the clinical silence. A trem

ont of the examination table,

ocedure area! Unauthorized personn

were glued to the thick layer of burn ointment and b

h the white cotton made his throa

is words, his fists clenching at

re the elastic bandage around her limb in absolute silence,

ning against the doorframe in a display

o badly?" Anabella cried, tears streaming d

, it's all my fault... if you hadn't moved to shield

as's wool overcoat, subtly diggin

ally turne

tearful face like polished shards of

precision. "If you don't escort Miss Mullins up to the VIP suite

as like a physical

orked convulsively, as if he had swallowed a mouthful o

e and handed Gracie a printed prescription

it completely dry. If the deep dermis becomes infec

you,

left hand, bowed politely to Cl

brooding billionaire standing before he

nd shot out like an iron clamp, locking

ice thick with raw panic and wounded pri

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Divorcing The Billionaire: The Hidden Tech Tycoon
Divorcing The Billionaire: The Hidden Tech Tycoon
“For two years, Gracie Waller lived as the secret, contractual wife of billionaire heir Chas Hamilton, quietly managing his life and enduring his cold indifference. With only thirty days left on their agreement, Chas's childhood sweetheart, Anabella, returned. To frame Gracie, Anabella deliberately tipped a bowl of boiling soup over Gracie's right arm, then fell to the floor crying that Gracie had maliciously attacked her. "Have you lost your mind!" Chas roared, scooping Anabella into his arms without a single glance at Gracie's melting skin. At the hospital, he demanded the city's top micro-surgeon for Anabella's slightly pink finger, while Gracie sat alone in the trauma room with severe second-degree burns. Later, to catch a feigning Anabella, Chas callously dropped Gracie onto a concrete floor, leaving her back covered in massive, bleeding bruises. Yet, he still ordered his heavily injured wife to the kitchen to cook a steak dinner for his sweetheart. Gracie didn't shed a single tear. She didn't understand how the man she thought had saved her life years ago could be so blindly cruel. Two years of playing the obedient, submissive wife had finally been burned away by that boiling liquid. The last shred of her lingering attachment was completely dead. Staring at his demanding face, Gracie calmly untied her family-crested apron and dropped it straight into the trash. She accepted a Chief Technology Officer position at a rising tech firm, locked her bedroom door, and watched her offshore countdown timer hit twenty-nine days. The submissive facade was over, and she was finally walking away.”