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Nairobi Damsel

Jilted Ex-Wife? The Secret Billionaire Heiress!

Jilted Ex-Wife? The Secret Billionaire Heiress!

Hei Baidong
I was in the hospital, enduring the agonizing pain of labor, while my husband, a famous hockey captain, refused to show up. When I called him for the twelfth time, begging for him, he lost his patience. "Giving birth is a woman's job, don't bother me with this stuff." Then, I heard my stepsister's sweet voice offering him a drink, and he immediately softened before hanging up on me. I gave birth to twins all by myself. The nurses treated me with cold indifference, and the family in the next bed loudly mocked me as a pathetic "Puck Bunny" who was just an adopted orphan about to be dumped. They were right. A month ago, my husband had thrown divorce papers at me, demanding I make way because my stepsister was pregnant with his child. I thought my life was a joke. I was just a discarded prop he married to satisfy his grandfather, a fake daughter my adoptive parents only used to elevate my stepsister. I was completely alone, ready to sign the papers just to protect my two babies. But then, the head of the hospital rushed in, transferred me to the top-floor VIP suite, and handed me a DNA test. It turned out I wasn't an unwanted orphan, but the long-lost daughter of the ultra-wealthy Sinclair family who had been searching for me for twenty years. Looking at my billionaire parents and three powerful brothers who just flew in on their private jets to protect me, I picked up my phone to call my arrogant husband. This time, I was going to make him leave with nothing.
Romance SuspenseMarital developmentDramaCEOPregnancy
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ANYA POV:

When I was lying in the operating room with postpartum hemorrhage and in urgent need of a family consent form during emergency situations, the twelve phone calls I made to my husband with my last strength were not worth one tenth of the hockey stick in his hand.

The operating room was in chaos. The monitor screamed and the nurses ran around.

After a day and a night of childbirth, my body was exhausted. Every pulse took away warm, sticky blood and slipped away from me quietly. I knew I was going to die. I could feel it.

Two years of marriage, and I should have known. I was just a prop he married to satisfy his family.

But for the sake of my unborn child, I continued to make one last effort.

This was the thirteenth time I had called him.

Waiting in agony, I heard the call connect.

But it wasn't his voice. It was his assistant's, crisp and professional. "Mr. Knight is in a critical strategy meeting before tonight's game, Mrs. Knight."

My voice was so weak I could barely hear it. "Please, let me say something to him, just once...... Maybe after today, he won't have to answer my calls anymore. ”

A moment of silence. Then, I heard Keenan's voice, laced with irritation. The background noise was unmistakable-the sharp tap of hockey sticks on a locker room floor.

"Anya, what trick are you playing now? Didn't I tell you every pre-game meeting is crucial?"

My eyes were blurred with tears. "Keenan, I know you always wanted me to sign that divorce agreement. Now I agree to your request. As long as you come to the hospital—"

He cut me off, his tone brutal. "Giving birth is a woman's job. You have doctors and nurses for that. Don't bother me with this stuff. You can't afford to be responsible for messing with the team's focus."

Just as I was about to speak again and beg for help, another voice. Sweet, familiar, and dripping with poison. "Keenan, the competition is about to start.don't let irrelevant people upset you. Come try the energy drink I made for you."

The daughter of my adoptive family, Kinley Hayes.

Keenan's voice instantly softened. "Okay, babe."

The line went dead.

I let the phone slip from my numb fingers. Tears mixed with the sweat on my face.

I gave up the struggle, and numbly closed my eyes.

But nurse Miller suddenly rushed in. "Dr. Reynolds! The mother's family has just signed the consent form. We're ready for the operation!"

When I heard these words, my eyes, which I had just closed, slowly opened again.

My adoptive parents?

No, they would rather have me die than let this happen. I couldn't help but wonder whether maybe the family of one of their patients signed the wrong form.

But I no longer had the time to care about these things. The darkness had blinded my eyes.

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