My Ex-husband Begged me to Save Him
Cyburris Hospital collapsed, and Director Greg sacrificed his pregnant wife, Ronda, to save his idolized love. Her right hand was crushed, she lost their baby, and he dragged her name through the mud, forcing her to leave with nothing.
With an injured hand and a stillborn child, Ronda fled the country overnight. Three years later, she returned as an international authority on neural regeneration, ready to seek revenge with both hands-one to slap faces, the other to perform surgery.
Her academic revelations exposed scandals, data breaches shook the foundations, the idolized love's reputation crumbled, and the scoundrel was left paralyzed-a complete crash and burn, all in one go.
In the end, she radiated with brilliance at a grand wedding with her ultimate partner, while her ex passed away in solitude in a hospital room.
Chapters
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Chapter 1
"Greg, save Dr. Lambert now. That concrete slab is about to collapse. It's crushing her right hand."
"Shut up. Rose has claustrophobia. The smoke is so thick here. If we don't get her out soon, she'll go into shock. Ronda is a surgeon. She has strong mental resilience. She can hold on."
The new building site of Cyburris Hospital suddenly collapsed, sending clouds of dust into the air.
Ronda Lambert was pinned beneath the reinforced concrete. A searing pain in her abdomen twisted together with a dead numbness in her right hand. Her body was long since drenched in cold sweat.
She struggled to lift her head and peered through the dust-filled gaps and saw her husband, Greg Riley, the influential hospital director, carrying another woman and rushing towards the light without looking back.
The woman was Rose Lloyd, Greg's junior from the same medical school. She had just returned to the country and joined the hospital yesterday.
"Greg..." Ronda called out.
Her voice was hoarse and broken, like it had been rubbed with sandpaper.
She wanted to tell him that if the concrete slab wasn't moved now, her right hand would be ruined, and she would never be able to perform surgery again.
She wanted to tell him she was pregnant.
But Greg's retreating figure was unwavering, without so much as a pause for her.
"Boom—" A secondary collapse struck.
The heavy concrete slab bore down again. Amidst the audible crunch of bones, Ronda's vision blackened, and consciousness slipped away.
...
When she woke again, it was in a hospital room filled with the smell of antiseptic.
Ronda moved her fingers, only to find her entire right arm numb. She couldn't feel it at all.
She sat up abruptly and lifted the blanket with her left hand, only to see her right arm wrapped in thick plaster and bandages. A lifeless silence emanated even through the gauze.
The door to the room opened, and Greg walked in, dressed in a crisp dark gray suit. He still looked exhausted.
But upon seeing Ronda awake, his expression quickly turned into his usual cold indifference and impatience.
"Are you awake? Then stop playing dead." Greg walked to the foot of the bed and casually picked up the medical chart hanging at the headboard. He flipped through a few pages and said coldly, "You have a slight concussion and ulnar nerve contusion in the right arm. Ronda, you really went all out to embarrass me in front of the media. You stayed in the debris for hours. Was it fun?"
Ronda looked at him in disbelief. Her pale lips trembled. "Greg, you're a doctor, too. You call this an ulnar nerve contusion? My hand has no feeling at all."
"That is a paralytic illusion caused by prolonged pressure." Greg snapped the medical chart shut and tossed it back onto the headboard. His piercing gaze was as sharp as a knife. "The rescue team arrived five minutes later. You refused to cooperate and chose to stay there for sympathy until I returned to get you out. Ronda, how long are you going to keep this up?"
"I chose to stay there?" Ronda trembled with anger, and tears welled up but stubbornly refused to fall. "Greg, where were you during the second collapse? You were carrying Rose out! Do you know how painful it was when that slab fell on me? Do you know my hand..."
"Enough!" Greg interrupted her harshly, his face full of disgust. "Rose just returned to the country. She is unfamiliar with the environment and suffered severe psychological trauma. It was practical to save her first. You're my wife and the head of neurosurgery. Shouldn't you be taking the high road here? Do you have to scramble for attention alongside a patient? Where's your professional ethics?"
"My professional ethics?" Ronda let out a bitter laugh. Her left hand clutched the sheet tightly. "Because I'm your wife, I deserve to be abandoned? Greg, can you afford it if my hand is truly useless?"
Greg's brows furrowed. His patience with her obstinancy was wearing thin.
"It won't be. I've had the orthopedic chief take a look. Your hand will recover after six months of recuperation. But you are so narrow-minded."
He stepped closer and looked down at her. He said with a chilling tone, "Rose had an asthma attack from the dust inhalation and is still under observation in the ICU. Since you're awake, perhaps you'd better go and apologize to her."
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9.4
"You are only making things difficult for us." he said. "Just sign the papers and let's get this over with."
As I opened my mouth to speak, I noticed that the wardrobe was slightly opened. Curious, I began to walk towards it.
"Emily, what do you think you're doing?" he asked.
But I ignored him. I lifted a trembling hand, gripped the handle, and opened the wardrobe. My heart sank.
"Abby?"
**********************
Although, she's heard a few times, but Emily has refused to believe that her husband, Marcus has been hanging around with different ladies, and sometimes he brings them home.
Even though she's hurt, but as long she doesn't come across or trade words with any of those ladies, then she's fine with it. And she was, but not until she finds one hiding naked in the wardrobe. Not just any woman, but her own sister, Abby.
Rather than apologizing to Emily, Marcus asks for a divorce and tells her to leave. To make matters worse, Abby is pregnant for him. Feeling betrayed, Emily attempts taking her own life. But fortunately, she survives. A month later, she returns as the wife to a wealthy billionaire.
Now she's ready to get her revenge. Just how far can Emily go to see her ex-husband and sister suffer?
8.1
She thought patience would earn her love.
She was wrong.
After years of waiting for her best friend to finally see her, she meets the one man she should never want-his older brother. Dark, forbidden, and dangerously perceptive, he sees through every excuse she's ever made for being overlooked.
Now she must choose between a safe fantasy that keeps breaking her heart and a dangerous truth that offers no escape once it begins.
Because the brother who looks at her like that?
He doesn't believe in halfway love.
7.5
For five years, I was locked away in the freezing royal dungeon, starved and used as a bloody plaything by the kingdom's sadistic Cabinet Minister, Brandt Fischer.
He tortured me daily for one twisted reason: I simply looked like someone else.
When he visited my cell to casually announce my father's execution and drag a silver dagger across my neck, he expected me to beg.
Instead, I laughed, sank my teeth directly into his carotid artery, and was violently thrown against a jagged stone wall to my death.
As my skull cracked and my blood stained the moss, I thought about my so-called family. The moment Brandt had demanded me, my father, the Duke, handed me over without a single hesitation to save his own political career.
I was nothing but a disposable pawn, left to rot in the dark while the monsters who ruined my life thrived.
I died suffocating on my own blood and absolute, destructive vengeance.
Then, I opened my eyes.
I was lying in my silk-sheeted bed, reborn as my fifteen-year-old self.
Today was the exact day Lord Daryl Langley, the God of War, would be ambushed and crippled—the event that allowed Brandt to seize ultimate power.
I immediately stole a horse, rode to the palace gates, and threw myself directly in front of Daryl's moving carriage.
"I just didn't want to see a hero die like a slaughtered pig."
I didn't care if I had to shatter my own ankle to hijack his convoy. This time, I was going to save the general, and he would become the blade I use to slaughter them all.
9.0
The biopsy report slid across the cold metal desk, stamped with a brutal death sentence: advanced gastric cancer. Aretha had exactly ninety days left to live.
It was her twenty-sixth birthday, but her phone only rang with a furious call from her husband, Anders.
"Do you have any idea how much of a joke you made this family look like today? Post a public apology to Kelli right now."
He had completely forgotten her birthday, only caring that she skipped her adopted sister's yacht party.
When Aretha dragged her failing body back to the family estate, her biological mother slapped her across the face just for looking pale and embarrassing them in front of guests.
Seeing Aretha wasn't submitting to the usual abuse, Kelli deliberately threw herself down the stairs, playing the innocent, depressed victim.
Anders rushed in and shoved Aretha brutally against the wall to protect Kelli, while her biological father delivered his ultimate threat.
"I am freezing your trust fund. Get on your knees and apologize to Kelli right now, or you won't see another dime."
A massive, suffocating sense of absurdity washed over Aretha. She had spent six years lowering her head and begging for their approval, only to be treated like a disposable placeholder. Why should she spend her final days enduring this agonizing torture for people who didn't even care if she breathed?
Aretha wiped the blood from her chin and laughed. She publicly severed all ties with her family, whipped the signed divorce papers directly at Anders's face, and walked out into the freezing storm—ready to fight for her own life.
7.8
She once called him her husband.
Now, she calls him a devil.
After catching her husband in his ex's house one too many times, she walked away,pregnant, broken, and done.
Four years later, fate laughs when she runs into him again, more powerful, colder, and dangerously obsessed.
He wants her back, but not for love. For revenge. For reasons buried beneath his arrogance and her silence.
But as she fights the pull between hate and desire, she learns something terrifying
The devil she runs into might not be the same man she divorced.
He's darker, hungrier... and this time, he's not letting her go.
7.5
I was Nyx, a top-tier covert operative. But when I opened my eyes, I was trapped in the unfamiliar, overweight body of a bullied girl named Eliza.
Before I could even process the body swap, the bedroom door splintered open. I was in bed with Julian Malone, a wealthy military heir, both of us heavily drugged. Cameras flashed wildly. It was a vicious setup to ruin his career, and I was the bait.
To save his family's reputation, Julian was forced to marry me. But the moment the wedding was over, he abandoned me. His elite family treated me like a disease. His mother froze my only bank account, trying to starve me into submission.
I even intercepted a private conversation between his parents.
"Once she's in a private facility, she loses all legal standing. We can sign anything we want on her behalf."
They planned to lock me up in a mental asylum and erase my existence entirely to get rid of the "trailer park trash."
To them, I was just a weak, pathetic pawn they could crush without a second thought. They thought they had backed a helpless girl into a corner.
They had no idea they had just declared war on a lethal weapon.
I didn't cry or beg. Instead, I bypassed their state-of-the-art security, cracked their safe, and stole the financial secrets that could destroy their entire empire.
"I want five hundred thousand dollars, or these files go to the IRS."
This time, I was playing by my own rules.