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.
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Chapter 4
Rose laughed happily while pointing to Ronda's plastered right hand. "Tsk, tsk, tsk, that hand was once called the 'Hand of God,' but now? I bet you even struggle to hold a spoon. Ronda, what's the point of your fighting? The only reason Greg married you was that your hands could bring profit to the hospital. Now that you're useless, do you think he'll keep you? You are a washed-up woman now."
"Rose, you'll pay for what you have done," Ronda said, each word with anguish.
"Really? Fine," Rose snorted coldly. She suddenly changed her expression. She grabbed the fruit knife from the table, shoved it into Ronda's hand, forcefully held her hand, and aimed the knife at her own arm.
"What are you doing?" Ronda was shocked and tried to pull her hand back, but Rose's grip was astonishingly strong.
"What am I doing? Of course... I'm helping you out." Rose gave a sinister smile as she applied force. "Hiss—"
Blood gushed out instantly and stained the white sleeve red.
Rose immediately let out a piercing scream. She fell backward and knocked over the chair. Then she lay trembling on the floor. "Help! Help! Ronda, no... I'm sorry. Please don't kill me..."
The door was flung open.
Greg rushed in. His pupils constricted sharply at the scene.
Rose was sprawled on the floor, her arm covered in blood. Her face was streaked with tears, and she pointed fearfully at the bed.
Meanwhile, Ronda stood frozen, holding the bloodstained fruit knife in mid-air.
"Ronda, have you lost your mind?" Greg roared.
He kicked the knife out of Ronda's hand and then got down on his knee to cradle Rose in his arms. He said with concern, "Rose, are you okay? Don't be afraid. I'm here."
"Greg... it hurts... I just came to apologize to Ronda... I didn't expect her to suddenly grab the knife..."
Rose curled up in his arms and sobbed uncontrollably. She was trembling like a leaf in the wind. "Am I going to die..."
"Don't say that. With me here, no one can hurt you." Greg lifted his head sharply and looked at Ronda as if she were a heinous criminal. His gaze was filled with rage and murderous intent. "Ronda, have you lost your humanity? Rose came with good intentions, and you attacked her with a knife?"
Ronda looked at the undisguised hatred in his eyes and suddenly laughed out loud.
Tears streamed down her face.
"Greg, if you're not blind, you'd see who the knife handle is pointing at. You can see the direction of the force."
"You are still denying it."
Greg stood up with Rose in his arms. He towered over Ronda like a judge. "I saw it with my own eyes. Is that not enough? Rose wouldn't even dare kill a chicken. How could she possibly harm herself? But you are jealous and heartless. Ronda, it seems losing your right hand wasn't enough to teach you a lesson. Do you want to end up in jail?"
"I want to end up in jail?" Ronda propped herself up on the bed. Her face was ghostly pale, but her voice was clear. "Greg, do you even know what I've just been through? My baby is gone. You killed your baby. I don't even have the strength to hold a knife. How could I hurt her?"
"My baby?" Greg sneered. His eyes were full of disdain. "The obstetrics department did send a report saying you had a curettage. But Ronda, who was the father? I haven't touched you for months. How could you get pregnant?"
Ronda's mind went blank at that moment.
She couldn't believe her ears. "What did you say?"
"I said, don't try to pin that unknown illegitimate baby on me." Greg's words were like daggers. "In an attempt to win me back, you pretended to be injured. Now, you're faking pregnancy and resorting to finding another guy? Ronda, you disgust me."
"Last month on the third..." Ronda tried to explain. He was drunk that day.
"I was drunk that day. I don't remember anything. You may take advantage of me, or you just made it all up."
Greg interrupted her impatiently. He turned to gently console Rose in his arms. "Rose, let's go. I get you bandaged. Such a vicious woman isn't worth your tears."
At the door, he paused. With his back to Ronda, he said, "Given your deliberate harm to Rose, I'll have the legal department involved. Also, you're relieved of your duties as head of neurosurgery. Stay here and reflect for the next few days. Once Rose forgives you, you can get out of the hospital."
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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.