Spare Part Wife: Liver For His Mistress
I wore my favorite emerald silk dress to Per Se, thinking our third anniversary would finally be the night Darius came back to me. My heart was pounding with hope, but the moment he covered the rim of my champagne glass with a cold, marble-like hand, that hope died.
He didn't bring a gift; he brought a personal assistant and a medical consent form. His ex-girlfriend, Hazel, was dying of liver failure, and I was the only compatible match they had found in the world.
The realization hit me like a physical blow: he hadn’t married me for love, but for a "harvest." When I screamed that I wasn't a spare part, he didn't even flinch. Instead, he threatened to pull the funding for my grandmother’s Alzheimer’s care, holding the only family I had left hostage to save his "one who got away." He locked me in our penthouse under a high-tech security protocol, guarded by private contractors like a prisoner in a gilded cage. While I was trapped, he was at the hospital holding Hazel’s hand, wearing the Patek Philippe watch I’d bought him for his birthday.
I watched their updates on social media, Hazel tagging him as her "hero" and "true love," while I was left alone in the dark. Darius told his lawyers I was just being "dramatic" and that I’d get over it once the settlement check cleared. Every memory of our three years together felt like a long-term investment in an organ transplant.
How could I have been so blind? How could the man who promised to cherish me turn into a monster who only saw me as a regenerating asset?
I stopped fighting and started calculating. I agreed to the surgery on one condition: a signed divorce decree and an ironclad trust for my grandmother that he could never touch. I refused his millions, took back my maiden name, and walked into that hospital with my head held high. I was giving them the piece of me they wanted, but it was the last thing they would ever take. As the elevator doors closed on Darius's desperate face, I knew that when I woke up, I would finally be free.
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Chapter 5
The next morning, the penthouse was silent. The rain had stopped, leaving a crisp, bright light that illuminated the dust motes dancing in the air.
Jada walked into the dining room. She wasn't wearing pajamas. She was wearing a sharp white blazer and tailored black trousers. Her hair was pulled back in a severe bun.
Darius was already at the table, picking at a plate of eggs. He looked up, eyeing her attire suspiciously.
"Where do you think you're going?" he asked. "You know the rules."
"Nowhere," Jada said calmly. She poured herself a cup of black coffee. She didn't sit down. "I have a proposal."
Darius put down his fork. He wiped his mouth with a linen napkin. "I'm listening."
"I will give her the liver," Jada said.
Darius relaxed visibly. The tension that had been holding his shoulders up near his ears melted away. He let out a breath. "Good. I knew you would be rational. It's the right thing to do."
"On one condition," Jada interrupted.
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a cocktail napkin. She slid it across the polished mahogany table.
There was one word written on it in black ink.
DIVORCE.
Darius stared at the napkin. His jaw clenched. A muscle ticked in his cheek.
"We can discuss the state of our marriage after the surgery," he said dismissively. "You're emotional right now."
"No," Jada slammed her hand on the table. The coffee cups rattled. "Papers signed and filed before anesthesia. Or I don't get on the table. And you can explain to your dying girlfriend why you couldn't save her."
Darius looked at her. Really looked at her. He saw the resolve in her eyes. It terrified him.
"Why?" he asked, genuinely confused. "I can provide for you. I can set you up for life. Even if we separate, staying married gives you access to the Long Trust."
"I don't want your money," Jada said. "I want one thing. A trust, set up and fully funded, for the Pinecrest Nursing Home. Enough to cover my grandmother's care for the rest of her life, with no strings attached. No way for you to ever touch it again. The rest of your fortune can go to hell with you. I want my name back. I want out."
Darius felt a strange pang in his chest. Panic? Why? He wanted the liver. She was giving him the liver. Why did the thought of her wanting nothing from him but a clean break make him feel like he was falling?
"You're making this transactional," he argued, trying to use logic. "A trust is complicated. It takes time."
"I don't care. I'll recover in a motel 6 if I have to. Draft the settlement."
Darius stared at her, looking for the bluff. He saw only dead eyes.
"Fine," he snapped, angry that she wanted to leave him so badly. Angry that his threats meant less to her than her freedom.
He picked up his phone and dialed Harrison. "Get the legal team. Urgent divorce settlement. Uncontested. And set up the Pinecrest Trust. Immediately."
Jada nodded. "I'll be in my room until the lawyers arrive."
Darius watched her walk away. He felt like he was losing control, even though he had just gotten exactly what he wanted.
Four hours later, the living area had been transformed into a war room. Three lawyers in gray suits sat around the coffee table, stacks of paperwork covering the surface.
Jada emerged. She sat down and picked up the settlement agreement.
It was generous. Obscenely generous. Ten million dollars. The beach house in the Hamptons. An alimony payment of fifty thousand a month for five years. And a separate, ironclad document for the Pinecrest Trust.
Jada uncapped a pen. She drew a large X through the entire financial section related to her.
"I said I don't want your money," she repeated, pushing the trust document to the side. "This is the only part I'll sign for."
The lead lawyer, a man named Mr. Sterling, looked shocked. "Mrs. Long, this is standard-"
"Cross it out," Jada ordered. "I leave with what I came with. My clothes. My car. That's it."
Harrison looked at Darius. Darius was standing by the window, his back to the room. He turned around, his face furious.
Her refusal of the money made her independent. It meant he had no hold on her. It meant she wasn't leaving because she was greedy or angry; she was leaving because she was done.
"Take the damn money, Jada!" he yelled. "Don't be a martyr!"
"Just the signature, Darius," she held out the pen to him.
Darius marched over. He snatched the pen from her hand. He signed his name on the designated line, pressing down so hard the nib tore through the paper.
"Happy?" he snarled, throwing the pen down.
"Not yet," Jada whispered. She looked at the torn signature. "We have to finalize it at the firm tomorrow. In front of a notary."
"Fine," Darius said. "Tomorrow morning. Then we go straight to the hospital."
He stormed out to the terrace, slamming the glass door behind him so hard the panes rattled.
Jada looked at the lawyers. "Thank you, gentlemen."
She stood up and walked away.
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Kiana and her mother brought the scandal right to the Glover family dinner table, trying to humiliate Blair.
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To her family, she was never a daughter—she was just a premium asset to be traded to the highest bidder.
What her greedy family didn't know was that Blair had already made a terrifying deal.
She was secretly married to the ruthless billionaire Butler McIntyre—a man who demanded absolute possession of her body and soul.
Now, her family's arranged parasite and her secret devil of a husband were on a collision course, and the wreckage was going to be spectacular.
7.7
Eva Brooks, a 25-year-old woman, was set up by her best friend. Her fiancé broke up with her and demanded compensation for allegedly cheating on him.
Eva had a one-night stand with the richest CEO in Dominic City, Ethan Owen. He was arrogant and offered her a job as his secretary.
As his secretary, Ethan couldn't shake his fondness for Eva. He became obsessed with her, worrying that she was cheating on him.
He broke up with his fiancée to become engaged to Eva, but will his fiancée let him go? Will Eva accept a relationship with her boss?
9.6
For four years, I played the perfect, naive, low-income wife to my wealthy husband Duke, completely hiding my true identity as a top-secret DARPA scientist.
On our anniversary, I discovered he was having an affair with an old-money socialite named Adelia.
He used our marital assets to buy her a half-million-dollar Birkin bag, but that wasn't the worst part.
While hiding in a parking garage, I recorded him telling his mistress that the daily prenatal vitamins he lovingly gave me were actually high-dose contraceptives.
He had secretly sterilized me to ensure I would never produce a "low-class" heir, planning to toss me aside with a tiny settlement in six months.
When I confronted him, he violently attacked me, smashed my head against a marble dresser, and locked me in our bedroom.
I thought of the four years I spent crying in doctors' offices, blaming my own body for my infertility, while he held my hand and comforted me with perfect, monstrous concern.
I didn't wait to be punished.
I climbed down the second-story balcony in the dark, leaving behind every diamond and luxury bag he had ever given me.
Sitting in the back of a taxi, I wiped the blood from my forehead and opened a secure app on my phone.
"Divorce fraud. Initiate sequence."
It was time for him to finally meet Dr. Patterson.
9.3
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8.2
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vanished. A billionaire. My parents pushed me into the engagement, and I accepted
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I thought this was my turn to be chosen. I was wrong. One night, he slapped me. All
because of my sister's mug. Got angry and went to the club to cool my head down.
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existing. It was reckless, It was stupid, It was completely ill-advised. But it was also
the Best. Sex. Of. My. Life. And, as it turned out, the best decision I'd ever made.
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powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be
playing with.
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9.4
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9.4
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As their forbidden relationship deepens, passion turns into danger. Lies begin to unravel. And when her brothers discover the truth, Deborah must choose between the family that raised her, and the man she's willing to burn the world for.