Chapter 1: The Nightmare in Operating Room Three

I was known as the finest chief surgical specialist at St. Jude’s Medical Center. But I never imagined that one day, my own scalpel would be used to perform an emergency separation procedure on my own wife.

Walking up to Operating Room Three, I froze dead in my tracks.

The patient lying under the harsh overhead lights, deeply unconscious from heavy anesthesia, was Chloe—my wife of five years. Her lips still held a faint, satiated smirk.

“Dr. Vance?” The head nurse held out a medical chart, her face tense. “An emergency foreign body adhesion case referred from ER. You are the only surgeon in the hospital equipped to handle this delicate tissue separation. The patient’s family is waiting outside.”

I accepted the chart, my fingers turning numb. The patient’s name was Chloe Vance, but under the “Spousal Guardian” column, a different name was written in bold ink: Brandon Montgomery.

Six months ago, Chloe told me her company was transferring her out of town for a critical corporate project. She insisted her promotion depended on it and begged me to wait for her.

Yet here she lay on my operating table, smelling distinctly of another man’s cologne.

“Dr. Vance?” the nurse prompted softly. “Can we begin?”

Taking a slow, shuddering breath, I stepped toward the table. The separation procedure was technically routine for me, yet cold sweat beaded across my forehead. Eight years in surgery had taught me to leave personal emotions at the door, but looking down at my wife, an ocean of agony threatened to swallow me whole.

As I clamped the final bleeding vessel, the nurse casually glanced at a paper attached to the clipboard and remarked, “She’s already pregnant and still engaged in such extreme physical behavior. Unbelievable.”

My hands froze mid-motion. “Pregnant with what?”

The nurse blinked, flipping the ultrasound slip over. “Oh, this was processed in the ER. Fourteen weeks along, single fetus. She probably hasn’t told her family yet. Look, the report is right here.”

Under the bright surgical lights, the typed text burned straight into my retinas: Chloe Vance — 14 Weeks Gestation.

Fourteen weeks. Three months.

Three months ago, she had called me on a late-night video call, whispering how much she loved me and how desperately she wanted us to start a family. Six months ago, she packed her bags, asking me to wait patiently until her business trip ended so we could take a vacation together.

I had waited. And the reward for my patience was another man’s seed growing inside her womb.

“Dr. Vance?” the nurse asked, concerned. “You look terribly pale. Should I call Dr. Miller to finish closing?”

“No,” I replied, my voice raspy as I handed the paper back. “I’ll finish.”

I executed every suture with mechanical, absolute precision. Her belly showed a slight, gentle curve—carrying another man’s child. My gloved fingers were millimeters from her skin, yet we were separated by an entire galaxy.

Stripping off my gloves outside the suite, I told the staff, “I’ll speak to the family.”

Pushing open the heavy double doors, I saw a young man standing in the waiting corridor. He was in his mid-twenties, draped in head-to-toe designer clothes, with a luxury watch on his wrist worth more than my ten-year salary. He was smiling down at his phone, texting someone.

Hearing footsteps, he looked up. “Doctor! How is my wife?”

Wife.

I stared at him, pronouncing every word clearly: “The operation was a complete success. However, the patient is three months pregnant. Please exercise restraint in the future. Extreme physical exertion during pregnancy can easily trigger premature labor or threaten the fetus.”

He stared at me for a second, then let out an arrogant laugh. “Ah, doctor, you don’t get it. Chloe gets wild—I couldn’t control her even if I tried. Today was definitely over the top, but I’ll pay attention next time. Definitely.”

Next time.

I clenched my fists until my knuckles turned white. “Are you her husband?”

“That’s right.” He pulled out a sleek gold-embossed business card. “Brandon Montgomery, Vice President of Montgomery Enterprises. And you are?”

I glanced at the card, then looked up into his eyes. “Caleb Vance. Chief of Surgery.”

“Caleb Vance?” Brandon raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing predatory. “Ah… so you’re Chloe’s little house-husband.”

He took a step closer, lowering his voice as if sharing a hilarious joke.

“I’ve heard so much about you. Chloe talks about you all the time—says you’re an obedient, honest fellow who comes home right on time to cook and do the laundry. She says living with you is as comfortable as having a reliable housemaid.”

He patted my shoulder with casual disrespect. “Thanks for fixing up my woman, Doc. By the way, that baby inside her? He’s mine. The direct heir to the Montgomery family.”

With a mocking grin, he turned on his heel and walked down the hallway, dialing his phone: “Hey, Mom, everything went great… Yeah, doctor says mother and baby are fine… I’ll bring her home later.”

I stood paralyzed, my fingers trembling. My phone vibrated in my pocket. It was a message from Chloe:

【Hubby, are we doing a video call tonight? I miss you so much! My project is wrapping up soon, just hang tight and I’ll be home shortly.】

Looking at those words, I felt a sudden, bitter urge to laugh hysterically. Miss me? She missed me so much that she ended up on an operating table with another man?

I turned off my phone, walked into the staff locker room, and slammed my fist straight into the wall. Pain radiated through my hand as bone hit concrete, leaving a faint dent on the wall.

Chapter 2: The Mask Falls

The next evening, Chloe returned home carrying armfuls of shopping bags.

I was sitting in the dark living room when she unlocked the front door. She paused upon seeing me in the shadows, then tossed her handbag casually onto the couch.

“Whew, I am exhausted,” she complained, kicking off her heels. “Hospital beds are awful. Nothing beats home.”

I looked at her under the faint moonlight filtering through the curtains. Her cheeks were flushed with life; she didn’t look like someone who had undergone emergency surgery twenty-four hours ago.

“Chloe,” I said quietly. “Are you pregnant?”

Her hands paused for a split second before she resumed tapping away on her phone. “How did you find out?”

“I performed an emergency surgery yesterday,” I replied coldly. “A woman engaged in such reckless behavior with a man that she had to be rushed to the ER. Coincidentally, her name was Chloe Vance.”

She finally set her phone down, leaning back against the sofa with a mocking smile. “So what?”

So what?

I stood up, my voice rising. “So what?! You cheated on me, you got pregnant with another man’s child, and you walk in here asking me ‘so what’?”

Chloe stood up as well, crossing her arms and looking down at me with pure disdain.

“Caleb, what do you want? A divorce? Fine, let’s get divorced.”

“You…”

“Don’t ‘you’ me!” she interrupted sharply. “Brandon is richer than you, younger than you, and actually knows how to live. Being with him made me realize what a real man is. And you?” She scanned me from head to toe as if judging a cheap piece of used furniture. “All you do is work, come home, cook, and sleep. I was bored to death of you years ago.”

She stepped closer, her eyes gleaming with malice. “Do you know when Brandon and I first slept together? On our wedding anniversary. You booked that fancy restaurant and sat there waiting like an idiot while I was in a private suite with him.”

A hollow silence filled the room as her words tore through my heart.

“He took me to private clubs, bought me bottles of wine that cost tens of thousands, and gave me a lifestyle you couldn’t dream of,” she sneered. “Your pathetic hospital salary can’t even buy me a decent handbag. In five years of marriage, the most expensive thing you ever bought me was a three-hundred-dollar necklace on sale!”

I stared at her, the last shreds of my affection evaporating into absolute coldness.

“Pack your things,” I said, my voice dead calm. “Get out of my house.”

“Your house?” Chloe scoffed, grabbing her designer bag. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t stay in this miserable apartment for another second. Brandon bought me a villa in the hills. The divorce papers will be served to you tomorrow!”

She slammed the door shut, leaving behind the faint scent of her luxury perfume.

Chapter 3: The Retaliation Begins

The next day, I didn’t waste a single tear. Instead, I contacted Mr. Harrison, the top family law attorney in the city, and laid out all the evidence: the hospital surgical records, the ultrasound report, Brandon Montgomery’s business card, and financial statements proving I had solely funded our apartment’s down payment and Chloe’s personal loans.

“Dr. Vance, because she committed clear marital infidelity and concealed a pregnancy with another party, we can file for divorce on grounds of fault,” Mr. Harrison explained. “Furthermore, we can force her to forfeit all claims to joint property and demand full repayment of the personal loans you granted her family.”

“Do it,” I ordered. “And file a formal complaint with the medical board regarding Brandon Montgomery’s interference with hospital emergency protocols.”

Two weeks later, the divorce papers were finalized. Because of the overwhelming evidence of her fault, Chloe was forced to relinquish all rights to our apartment, pay back $80,000 she had borrowed from my savings to fund her brother’s business, and leave with nothing but her clothes.

However, Chloe didn’t care. She moved directly into Brandon’s luxury estate, flaunting her pregnancy on social media and posting pictures of expensive baby clothes, jewelry, and luxury cars.

One afternoon, Brandon Montgomery personally came to my hospital office, tossing an invitation onto my desk.

“Dr. Vance,” Brandon smirked, adjusting his silk tie. “Chloe and I are throwing an engagement party at the Grand Hyatt next week. As the surgeon who saved my son, you ought to come and have a drink.”

I picked up the invitation, looking at him calmly. “A party? Are you sure your family approves of this marriage, Mr. Montgomery?”

Brandon laughed arrogantly. “My mother can’t wait to hold her grandson. Don’t worry about us, Doc. Just focus on your night shifts.”

He walked out, utterly convinced he had won. But he didn’t know that my legal team had already initiated a far bigger storm behind the scenes.

Through my position as Chief of Surgery and my network among the city’s medical elites, I discovered a crucial secret: the Montgomery Group was currently bidding for a multi-million-dollar state medical supply contract—a contract that required absolute ethical clearance and clean corporate governance.

I submitted the emergency ER records, the toxicology reports, and the police statement regarding Brandon’s reckless behavior that night directly to the State Medical Ethics Committee and the Montgomery Group’s primary venture capital investors.

Chapter 4: The House of Cards Collapses

The fallout was immediate and devastating.

Three days before their lavish engagement party, the State Ethics Board launched an official investigation into Brandon Montgomery for public endangerment and moral turpitude. The news leaked to the press, causing the Montgomery Group’s stock to plummet by fifteen percent in a single afternoon.

Panic erupted within the Montgomery family. Brandon’s mother, an elitist matriarch who prioritized family reputation above all else, immediately ordered a full background check on Chloe.

What she found shattered the Montgomery family’s tolerance.

Not only had Chloe lied about her corporate status, but financial records revealed she had accumulated massive personal debts, had been legally forced to repay me $80,000 for fraud, and had engaged in multiple affairs before meeting Brandon.

More critically, a confidential genetic audit requested by the Montgomery family’s trust attorneys revealed a shocking truth: the pregnancy Chloe claimed was fourteen weeks along was actually sixteen weeks along—meaning the child was not even Brandon’s.

On the night of the planned engagement party, the event was abruptly canceled.

Brandon stormed into Chloe’s villa, throwing the DNA audit papers directly into her face.

“You lying bitch!” Brandon roared, his face twisted in fury. “You pinned another man’s bastard on me and used my family’s name to pay off your debts?!”

Chloe, pale and trembling, tried to grab his sleeve. “Brandon, listen to me! The dates were just a mistake! The baby is yours, I swear!”

“Get your hands off me!” Brandon shoved her violently to the floor. “My mother has revoked my executive position because of the scandal you caused! The board is stripping my shares! Get out of my house before I have security throw you onto the street!”

Within twenty-four hours, Chloe was kicked out of the villa. Her designer bags and luxury clothes were seized by the Montgomery family’s legal team as compensation for corporate reputation damages.

Chapter 5: Absolute Ruin and Unpayable Regret

A month later.

I was standing outside the hospital’s research building after completing a successful heart surgery when I heard loud weeping near the main entrance.

A disheveled woman in ragged clothes was being blocked by hospital security. Her hair was matted, her face hollow and pale, and her stomach protruded noticeably under a dirty, oversized coat.

It was Chloe.

“Caleb! Caleb, please!” she shrieked, seeing me walk out in my doctor’s coat.

She broke past the guard and threw herself onto her knees at my feet, clutching the hem of my trousers.

“Caleb, I was wrong! I was completely blind!” she sobbed hysterically, her body shaking as tears washed clean tracks through the dirt on her cheeks. “Brandon threw me out… he took everything! The baby isn’t even his… I don’t even know whose it is! I have no money, no home, nowhere to go!”

I stood still, looking down at her with complete, unyielding coldness.

“Caleb, please take me back!” she wailed, banging her forehead against the pavement. “You were the only man who ever truly loved me! I don’t care about luxury bags or fancy cars anymore! I just want to come home and cook for you! Please, Caleb!”

I slowly pulled my trouser leg from her grip.

“Chloe,” I said, my voice as cold as ice. “Five years ago, I gave you my heart, my home, and my respect. You traded all of it for a night in a luxury hotel and a three-hundred-thousand-dollar handbag.”

“I was stupid! I was evil!” she screamed, slapping her own face repeatedly. “Give me one more chance! For the sake of five years of marriage!”

“The woman I married died on my operating table the night you walked in with another man’s name on your chart,” I replied softly. “You chose your path. Now live with it.”

I turned around and walked toward my car, not looking back once.

Behind me, Chloe’s desperate, agonized wails echoed through the cold evening air as security escorted her off the hospital grounds. She was left alone in the freezing wind, carrying a fatherless child, utterly ruined, and forever crushed under the weight of unpayable regret for the paradise she had thrown away.