My Signature or My Life: My Wife Makes Me Choose

Samantha stared at me through the screen, momentarily stunned.

Beside her, Nicholas kept adding fuel to the fire, shaking his head with exaggerated seriousness.

"Divorce? Henry must simply be saying that in a fit of anger. After all, it wasn't easy for him to gain the wealth he has today."

Hearing that, Samantha scoffed, frustrated at herself for almost falling for my "trick".

"Henry, you broke bastard, are you thinking of divorcing me so you can get some of my wealth? Well, the only thing you'll be leaving with is the clothes on your back!"

She then turned to the black-clad man standing beside the surgical table and said sternly, "Turn the lights brighter! He dares to scorn me for being impure? Then I'll make sure he becomes thoroughly impure!"

The surgical lights above me abruptly brightened several notches, forcing me to squint against the piercing glare.

As the mask-clad "surgeon" raised his scalpel, the light danced off the blade in a cold gleam.

I instinctively shut my eyes, my body trembling violently. The anesthesia had dulled my senses and slowed my reaction time, but even so, I couldn't stop myself from shaking in extreme fear.

Next to the "surgeon" sat a newly disinfected organ storage box. Under the harsh lighting, the condensation beading on its surface was particularly visible.

By now, it was already late into the night. Samantha ordered the live stream to cut into a close-up of me, bringing my pale face and terrified eyes into stark focus.

"He's shaking like a leaf! Is this really just an act?"

"I think so? This can't possibly be real, right?"

"Dr. Sonnet sure is cruel to strike him right where it hurts."

"The anesthesia doesn't seem to have fully worn off yet, but they're going to start harvesting his organs in about ten seconds or so, aren't they?"

I struggled against the restraints around my wrists, my nails scrabbling against the metal table with an unpleasant screech.

They were all waiting for me to plead for mercy so they could strip me of everything I was worth.

With faux sincerity, Nicholas coaxed me.

"Henry, it's really not that big a deal to me if you don't want my name on the surgical atlas. However, you should at least show Samantha where you stand."

He had barely finished speaking when the scalpel was lowered closer to me, its sharp edge hovering ominously over my abdomen like the Grim Reaper's scythe, ready to fall at any moment.

Suddenly, the restraint around my wrist gave way.

Seizing this chance, I raised a hand to grab the scalpel, but another man in black seized my arm and pinned me back onto the table.

The icy chill of the surgical table seeped into my bones as the anesthesia drained all strength from my limbs. The only thing I had left was a conscious mind, steeped in despair.

I could barely open my eyes against the harsh lighting, so all I could do was listen to the grinding of machinery.

Samantha's voice rang out from the speakers once more.

"Henry, where's your moral high ground now? Once the doctor slices you open, your kidney will be removed. I'd love to see how you'll maintain that disgustingly pretentious attitude then!"

In a tone dripping with fake concern, Nicholas chimed in.

"Henry, stop acting tough! Just admit your mistakes and apologize to Samantha! Agree to hand over the backup copy and credit only me. Then admit in the live stream that you were wrong for deliberately setting me up and adding mistakes to my diagnostic plan.

"If you do, Samantha will halt this operation immediately, and I'll forgive you like the magnanimous man I am. I won't even pursue the matter of you almost destroying my career and plans."

Samantha abruptly cut him off, her voice shrill as she screamed.

"Henry Jenner, I thought you were jealous of Nicholas, and that was why you often instigated the other staff members to ostracize him. Never did I imagine you'd be so rotten to the core!

"Do you have any idea how many lives depended on that diagnostic plan? How dare you sabotage it in secret?"

I bit my lower lip hard. They were forcefully pushing the blame for something I hadn't done onto me, and to "teach me a lesson", my wife was subjecting me to this illegal organ harvesting operation and was even broadcasting it.

"Get ready to start," she ordered coldly.

The "surgeon" pressed the scalpel against my waist, the icy sting of the blade making me shiver.

The live stream chat, open only to special members, was alive with chatter.

Up on the observation deck, the other people in the room with Samantha spoke in low, excited murmurs.

"Dr. Sonnet, this is truly an amazing idea! Live harvesting of an organ… The sheer shock value alone will make our live stream explode with popularity!"

Someone who looked like an assistant stepped forward with their phone, pressing it tightly against the one-way glass to capture every flicker of terror crossing my face.

"Henry Jenner, do you realize how serious the consequences are now? Hurry up and beg Dr. Sonnet for mercy! Otherwise, once the anesthesia wears off, you'll feel the full sensation of being cut open alive!"

As that person spoke, I felt the faint sensation of my skin being cut open. The sharp pain that followed was the final straw, shattering all my mental defenses.

Yet what hurt even more than the physical pain was the bone-chilling realization that Samantha would truly go this far for Nicholas' sake.

I lay there, feeling my life slowly slipping away as I waited for my organs to be harvested. The anesthesia and fear clouded my mind, turning both my vision and thoughts hazy.