The Final Score: When The Wife Walks Away

I didn't keep a ledger to save my marriage to the Chicago Underboss. I kept it to justify ending it. Every time Blake chose his "childhood friend" Ariana over me, I deducted points. When he left me burning in a gallery fire to save her? Minus twenty. When he gave her my grandmother's brooch? Minus fifteen. But the score finally hit zero on the night of the storm. Blake abandoned me at a cemetery with a broken leg because Ariana called him about a flat tire. Alone in the rain, unable to run, I was struck by a semi-truck. As I bled out on the operating table, the doctors begged Blake—the head trauma surgeon—for the O-negative blood reserve codes. He refused. He ordered them to save the blood for Ariana, just in case her "panic attack" turned into shock. He didn't know the dying patient was his wife. Because of that decision, my body shut down to protect my vital organs. I survived, but the eight-week-old heartbeat inside me stopped. He killed his own son to treat his mistress's anxiety. I woke up in an empty room and pulled out the black book one last time. "Minus five points. Killed our child for her reserve." I signed the divorce papers, wiped my fingerprints from the penthouse, and vanished. Two years later, I returned to Chicago as a celebrated architect. And the man who once ruled the city was kneeling in the rain at my feet, begging for a love he had already slaughtered.

Chapters

Chapter 8

Caroline POV

Pain wasn't just a sensation anymore. It was a universe.

I was floating in it, untethered.

Bright lights scorched my retinas.

"BP is crashing!" someone yelled, voice distorted by panic. "She's hemorrhaging internally!"

"We need blood! O-negative! Stat!"

I tried to speak. I tried to force my name past my lips.

"Mrs. Santos?" A young doctor's face swam into view above me. He looked terrified. "Stay with us."

"Blake..." I whispered. Not because I wanted him. But because he was a surgeon. He controlled the blood bank.

"We're paging him," the doctor said, pressing a mask to my face. "He's the on-call trauma lead for the region. He has the override codes for the shortage."

I drifted out.

I drifted back in.

The doctor was arguing on the phone, his knuckles white as he gripped the receiver.

"Dr. Santos, please! Her hematocrit is critical. We need the reserve units!"

Silence.

Then the doctor's face went deathly pale.

"But sir... it's your wife."

Silence again. A heavy, suffocating pause.

"Understood. Reserving the units for Patient Whitfield in case of shock."

The doctor hung up. He looked at the nurse. He looked sick.

"He refused," the doctor whispered, disbelief coloring his tone. "He said to keep the O-neg on standby for Ariana Whitfield. She has a laceration on her finger and anxiety."

"What about her?" the nurse demanded, pointing at me.

"Saline," the doctor said, his voice cracking. "Push fluids. Pray it's enough."

It wasn't enough.

I felt the cold creeping in.

Not from the rain. From the inside.

Then, I felt a cramping in my lower belly. A deep, twisting agony that had nothing to do with the truck.

"We're losing the fetal heartbeat," the nurse said softly.

Fetal heartbeat?

I blinked, trying to clear the fog.

"Pregnant?" I rasped.

"Eight weeks," the doctor said, tears swimming in his eyes. "Mrs. Santos... without the blood... the body prioritizes the vital organs. It's shunting flow away from the uterus."

I tried to scream.

I tried to tell them to take my heart instead.

But I had no air.

I felt the life slip away.

A tiny spark, extinguished because of a reserve order for a paper cut.

I passed out.

When I woke up, the room was silent.

I was alive.

But I was empty.

My hand went to my stomach. Flat. Hollow.

The young doctor stood by the door. He couldn't look me in the eye.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Did he come?" I asked. My voice was shards of broken glass.

"No," he said. "He's still with Ms. Whitfield. She's... she's sedated."

I reached for the bedside table.

My purse was there. Bridget had packed it.

I pulled out the ledger.

It was wet. Stained with mud and blood.

I opened it.

Minus five points.

Killed our child for her reserve.

Score: -5.

"Doctor," I said.

"Yes?"

"I need you to witness a signature."

I pulled out the separation papers.

I signed them. The pen tore through the damp paper.

"Call my housekeeper," I said, my voice devoid of emotion. "Tell her I'm ready."

I didn't cry.

Tears were for people who had hope.

I was just a ghost leaving a haunted house.

Continue to next part

I'm Sana. I once became a surrogate for Selina, the former Luna, as I desperately needed money to save my mother. After giving birth to Angela, Selina passed away, and I was bound by a three - year contract with Alpha Frank. During those years, I endured so much. Angela, influenced by Yulia, Selina's sister, treated me horribly. She stuck gum in my hair, threw stones at me, and put a dead rat in my bed. Alpha Frank, consumed by grief for Selina, used me as a stand - in, then cruelly rejected me. When the contract ended, I tried to leave, but was framed and thrown into a cellar. Finally, I escaped to Mountain Ridge Pack, my mother's home. There, I met Daniel, and we became close. When Alpha Frank and Angela found me, Angela apologized, but I refused to go back. Now, with Daniel by my side, I'm ready to embrace a new, happy life.

Action Fantasy Werewolf

8.5

Breaking The Cage: The Mafia Wife's Revenge

8.5

I was smoothing the red silk of my dress over a baby bump only I knew existed, preparing to tell my husband, the ruthless King of Chicago, that he was finally going to be a father. But before I could share the news, the ballroom fell silent. A woman walked in wearing a gold dress that was barely legal. It was Serena, the woman from the photos I had received just hours ago. She walked right up to us and handed Michael a silver tie clip. "You left this in the suite, Michael," she purred in front of the entire city's elite. When I demanded she leave, she smirked and threw her glass of red wine all over me. The liquid soaked into my dress, looking like a gunshot wound right over my womb. I waited for Michael to defend me. To throw her out. Instead, he looked at the crowd, terrified of a scandal. "Don't make a scene, Liv," he hissed, his eyes cold. "Go upstairs and change. I'll handle this." He turned his back on me and walked away with his mistress, leaving me dripping in crimson and humiliation. My mother found me sobbing in the bedroom and slapped me sober. "Tears are for the weak," she said. "Tonight, Michael Thorne loses everything." We froze his assets. We destroyed his reputation. But that wasn't enough. I wanted to break his soul. I looked down at my stomach. I would protect this child, but his father would never know he existed. "Tell him I lost the baby," I whispered to the butler, my voice trembling with rage. "Tell him the stress caused a miscarriage. Tell him he killed his heir." Tonight, the golden cage opens. And Michael Thorne is about to find out that even a canary has claws.

Action Mafia Modern

7.5

His Unwanted Wife, My New Dawn

7.5

For six years, I was the wife of a tech billionaire with crippling mysophobia. To my husband, Killian, I was a contaminant he was forced to tolerate for a business merger, a ghost in my own home. But for his mistress, the influencer Isabel, every rule was broken. He worshipped her, believing she was the angel who' d saved him from a near-fatal climbing accident two years ago. The truth was, I was the one who braved a blizzard to rescue him, suffering severe frostbite in the process. But he laughed in my face, calling me too fragile. He knelt on a filthy police station floor to touch her bare feet, yet he' d recoiled from my touch for years. He destroyed my grandmother' s priceless locket because she wanted it. He forced me to kneel and apologize for her lies, threatening my family's company if I refused. The final humiliation came when he publicly declared her the true mistress of the house and made me climb a dangerous, thorny hill on my injured ankle to pick roses for her. As I stumbled back, covered in mud and blood, I felt nothing. The love I had stubbornly held onto was finally, completely dead. I walked away that night with the signed divorce papers in my hand. My old life was over, and my fight for a new one had just begun.

Action Modern Romance

8.2

Rejected Princess, Rising From The Ashes

8.2

For three years, I scrubbed tables as a "wolfless runt," hiding my identity as the Lycan King's daughter. It was a test for my fiancé, Alpha Connor. I wanted to see if he loved the girl, or just the crown. He failed spectacularly tonight. His mistress, Jaden, deliberately knocked a tray of drinks onto me during the dinner rush. The liquid wasn't alcohol. It was concentrated silver. My flesh hissed and bubbled as the poison ate through my skin, blocking any ability to heal. I fell to the floor, clutching my melting hand, while Jaden faked tears and claimed I attacked her. When Connor finally answered the video call, he saw my mangled hand. He smelled the burning flesh. He knew it was silver. But he didn't help me. He looked at his watch, annoyed that I was interrupting his business meeting with investors. "Apologize to Jaden," he ordered, using his Alpha Command to crush me into submission. "On your knees. Now." The pain was blinding, but the betrayal cut deeper. He was forcing his Fated Mate to bow to the woman who tried to maim her. My knees bent under the pressure, but my Royal blood refused to break. I looked straight into the camera lens. "No," I whispered. I reached into my apron, bypassing the notepad, and pulled out a black satellite phone I hadn't touched in years. "Code Black," I said to the King on the other end. "Send the Guard." Connor thought he was disciplining a waitress. He didn't know he just declared war on the Royal Family.

Action Romance Werewolf

9.6

Rewriting Fate I’ll Never Love You Again

9.6

After a one-night stand with her brother's friend, NYC mafia boss Cassian Cross, a woman’s life becomes a nightmare. Following years of abandonment and his cruel return with a former lover, Cassian intentionally traps her and their son in a burning car. Miraculously, she wakes up back on her twentieth birthday. Haunted by his murderous betrayal, she decides to flee the cycle of obsession. Instead of choosing him again, she makes a life-altering call to his first love.

Action Mafia Modern Mystery Romance

9.3

Ripping off Her Mask

9.3

When Kate Horton’s feigned empathy drives a patient to suicide, she plays the victim to hide her guilt. To shield her, the protagonist’s boyfriend and professor conspire to frame her, resulting in total social ruin and her eventual murder. After being pushed to her death, she suddenly regresses to the moment before the tragedy. Now, she is determined to expose the truth, save the innocent, and ensure that Kate finally faces the consequences of her lethal performance.

Action Modern Mystery

The Final Score: When The Wife Walks Away

Chapter 8

You may also like