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After My Husband's Public Betrayal, I Was Dying Novel Cover

After My Husband's Public Betrayal, I Was Dying

I stared at my laptop screen in disbelief, my fingers frozen over the keyboard. What had started as another mundane Monday morning—another all-hands Zoom meeting for Ryan's marketing agency—had suddenly transformed into my personal nightmare broadcast live to thousands. "Amanda," Ryan's voice came through crystal clear, his face softened in a way I hadn't seen directed at me in years. "I can't keep pretending anymore. I love you. I've loved you for months." My husband didn't know his webcam was still on. He didn't realize the breakout room had failed to activate. He had no idea that his declaration of love for his colleague was being streamed to the entire company—and beyond, since someone had shared the LinkedIn Live link with external partners. I watched the chat explode with shocked reactions. Someone typed my name with a string of exclamation points.
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Chapter 3

I drifted in and out of consciousness, the hospital room's fluorescent lights pulsing above me like distant stars. Daniel's presence was an anchor in the shifting reality of my pain medication. He hadn't left my side since I'd awakened to find him there, his warm hand holding mine as if he'd never let go.

"I'll get you some fresh water," Daniel said, gently placing my hand on the blanket. "The nurse said you need to stay hydrated."

I nodded weakly, watching him step out of the room. The quiet beeping of the monitors became my only company. I closed my eyes, trying to process everything that had happened. The cancer. Ryan's betrayal. Daniel's unexpected return.

The click of heels against linoleum broke through my thoughts. Not the practical shoes of a nurse, but something sharper, more deliberate. I opened my eyes to see a silhouette in the doorway.

Amanda Wells stood there, a vision in a tailored cream suit that probably cost more than a month of my rent. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail, her makeup flawless despite the early hour. But what caught my eye—what made my heart stutter painfully—was the delicate Tiffany necklace glinting at her throat. The same one Ryan had given me on our first anniversary.

"Well, well," she said, her voice dripping with false sympathy as she approached my bed. "Isn't this convenient timing?"

I tried to sit up, but my body betrayed me, weak from the fall and the disease eating away at me from within.

"What are you doing here?" My voice was barely above a whisper.

Amanda leaned in close, her expensive perfume suffocating me. "Just checking on the competition." She fingered the necklace at her throat. "Though I can see there isn't much to worry about anymore."

I stared at the necklace, remembering how Ryan had clasped it around my neck, promising forever. "That's mine."

"Not anymore." Her smile was razor-sharp. "Ryan said you wouldn't need it where you're going. Though I have to say, a cancer diagnosis?" She clicked her tongue. "That's a bit dramatic, even for someone as desperate as you."

My eyes burned with unshed tears. "You think I'm making this up?"

"I think you saw the video and decided to play your last card." She straightened, adjusting her designer blazer. "Ryan told me all about your little performance this morning. The fake medical reports, the sob story about needing money." She leaned in again, her voice a venomous whisper. "He's not buying it, and neither am I."

Before I could respond, footsteps thundered down the hall. Ryan appeared in the doorway, his face contorted with rage. He stormed into the room, ignoring the nurse who called after him about visiting hours.

"What the hell is this?" he demanded, waving his phone in my face. "The hospital billing department just called me about insurance authorization for your 'treatment.' You're actually going through with this charade?"

I shrank back against the pillows, my heart racing. "Ryan, please—"

"Shut up!" he snarled. "I'm not paying for your imaginary cancer treatments. You think you can manipulate me? Force me to stay?"

Amanda moved to his side, placing a possessive hand on his arm. "Baby, calm down. She's not worth it."

I struggled to find my voice, to make him understand. "The tests are real. Dr. Hanson can confirm—"

The crack of Ryan's palm against my cheek silenced me. The force of the slap snapped my head to the side, pain blooming across my face. For a moment, the room went silent except for the frantic beeping of the heart monitor.

"You've always been a liability," Ryan hissed, his face inches from mine. "But this is a new low, even for you."

A commotion erupted as a nurse rushed in, followed by an orderly. "Sir! You need to leave immediately!"

Ryan straightened, smoothing his tie as if nothing had happened. He placed his arm around Amanda's waist, the two of them a united front against me. "She's lying about being sick," he told the nurse. "She's trying to extort money from me."

"That's enough."

Daniel's voice cut through the chaos like a blade. He stood in the doorway, two cups of water forgotten in his hands, his face a mask of cold fury. He set the cups down and moved into the room with the quiet confidence of someone who commanded boardrooms and tech empires.

"Who the hell are you?" Ryan demanded.

Daniel ignored him, stepping between my bed and Ryan. He pulled out his phone, unlocked it, and held up the screen displaying a financial app. The number displayed—the real-time market cap of Chen Technologies—had so many zeros that Ryan's eyes widened.

"I'm the man who will destroy everything you've built if you ever touch her again," Daniel said, his voice soft but carrying the weight of absolute certainty. "Now get out."

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