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Revenge Has Never Been Prettier Novel Cover

Revenge Has Never Been Prettier

When a firefighter is rushed to the emergency room after a catastrophic fall, his life hangs by a thread. His wife, Dr. Warhol, is the only surgeon in Switzerland with the expertise to repair his ruptured kidney. However, as medical staff panic and urge her to intervene, she remains eerily detached. Instead of scrubbing in, she meticulously applies makeup outside the theater. With cold precision, she ignores the stakes, prioritizing her appearance over her husband's survival.
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Chapter 1

My firefighter husband had fallen from a great height during a mission and was rushed into the emergency room, covered in blood.

As the only person capable of saving him, I stood just outside the operating room, calm and composed. Reaching for my makeup bag, I began carefully applying my makeup.

Another doctor, panic-stricken, rushed toward me and shouted, "Dr. Warhol! The patient's kidney has ruptured! You're the only surgeon in all of Switzerland who can perform this life-saving procedure! If you don’t act now, he’s going to die!"

I continued shaping my eyebrows with steady precision, not even glancing in his direction.

"Quiet," I said coolly. "If you keep yelling, my brows might end up crooked."

My mother-in-law, Gracie Hampton trembled as she rushed forward, grabbing hold of my sleeve.

"You know… You know better than anyone that only you can save Lex! I'm begging you… Please, save him…"

This small county had not many hospitals, and the one I worked at was the best hospital in the area. Bringing in reinforcements from a hospital outside the county wasn't a realistic option.

I raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

Suddenly, Gracie dropped to her knees, her voice choking with desperation. "Samantha, I know you can do it! Please, save Lex!"

I pulled a lipstick from my bag, carefully selecting a shade that would complement my look, and replied indifferently, "Have you forgotten? I'm currently on forced leave. If I perform the surgery without authorization, I'll lose my job."

Dr. Harry Henley, the surgeon assigned to the case, stepped in front of me, his face pale as a sheet.

"Dr. Warhol! Have you forgotten our principle of providing unconditional aid to patients?"

I extended a hand toward him, wiggling my fingers to show off my freshly done nails.

"Unfortunately, I hurt my hand today," I said, feigning regret while flaunting the glossy polish. "There's no way I can perform surgery like this."

The room fell silent as my words hung in the air. Everyone's expressions shifted in shock and disbelief.

Gracie clutched my hands tightly. Bloodstains and fresh cuts marred each of my ten fingertips, the wounds raw and jagged. Her voice quivered as she struggled to speak.

"Samantha… you—you've always cared so much about your appearance. How could you let your hands get like this?"

Then her tone sharpened, suspicion creeping in. "Did you… do this on purpose out of fear our agreement might fall through?"

Her doubt wasn't without merit. I had always been meticulous about my looks, and as a doctor, I'd long regarded my hands as sacred tools of my profession. Deliberately injuring them would go against everything I stood for.

I smiled faintly, then slammed my hand hard against the cold metal bench beside me. Pain surged through my body like a tidal wave. I forced a weak smile in her direction.

"Well, now I definitely can't hold a scalpel."

Gracie crumbled in an instant. She collapsed to the floor, wailing uncontrollably. "You're insane! Completely insane!"

"If you can't operate, what's going to happen to Lex?!" she screamed. "He's given you everything, treated you like his whole world. Are you just going to stand by and watch him die?!"

Her grief was so overwhelming that even the onlookers, who had gathered in silence, couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy.

I ignored her, suppressing the searing pain in my hand as I calmly applied lipstick, carefully outlining my lips until they were perfect. I pressed them together lightly, admiring my work.

"Instead of wasting time arguing with me," I said, my voice cold and detached, "why not go in and say your goodbyes to him?"

At that moment, my father-in-law, Nicholas Hampton, who had been silent the entire time, stepped forward. He dropped to his knees before me, bowing his head repeatedly against the floor. Blood trickled down his forehead, but he didn't stop.

"I've never asked anything of you," he pleaded hoarsely. "This is the only thing I'll ever beg you for. Please, save Lex."

I had always known my father-in-law as a stern and proud man, someone who valued his dignity above all else. Seeing him humiliate himself like this in front of so many people should have moved me, but it didn't. What did any of this have to do with me?

Both my in-laws continued to kowtow before me, their heads hitting the floor again and again. I didn't even spare them a glance.

"Oh!" I said suddenly.

Gracie sprang up, a glimmer of hope in her tear-filled eyes.

"Samantha, I knew you'd come around! There's still time to do the surgery!"

The crowd turned their expectant gazes toward me.

I didn't acknowledge her words. Instead, I smiled sweetly, speaking to no one in particular. "How silly of me. I forgot to put in my colored contacts."

Gracie let out a desperate cry and lunged toward me. "Samantha, stop with the makeup already! Lex is dying!"

I dropped my smile, meeting her gaze with icy indifference.

"If I don't get my contacts in properly," I said slowly, "are you prepared to take responsibility for that?"

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