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Billionaire Husband Chose My Sister, I Chose To Divorce Novel Cover

Billionaire Husband Chose My Sister, I Chose To Divorce

Tired of her billionaire husband, Adrian, stealing her artwork to credit her sister, Rose, the protagonist finally serves divorce papers. Despite sacrificing her hand's functionality for him, Adrian dismisses her worth and expects gratitude for his protection. He believes she is helpless and trapped by her injury, but she secretly secures a position at the Royal Academy of Arts. Now, she is ready to leave his arrogance behind and rebuild her life in London.
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Chapter 3

"Doctor, is there really a good chance my mother could wake up?"

"I've successfully treated patients with the same condition before. Once your mother arrives, I'll run a thorough examination."

"Thank you, doctor. Thank you so much."

Joy flooded through me, electric and overwhelming. I was practically shaking as I walked toward the hospital room.

But there was Rose -- alone at my mother's bedside, holding her hand, smiling that innocent smile.

"I'm going to take everything your daughter has."

"Still hanging on, are you? Hoping to hear your precious daughter publicly grovel and apologize to me?"

Blood roared in my ears. I charged at her, grabbed a fistful of her hair, and dragged her toward the door. She shrieked.

"Adrian! It hurts!"

I tightened my grip and hauled her out of the room.

I eased the door shut behind me as gently as I could. Before I could even turn around, a kick sent me crashing to the floor.

Searing pain tore through me. Something warm trickled down my inner thigh as I lay crumpled on the ground.

I looked up in a daze. Adrian stared down at me, his expression nothing but irritation. His lips moved.

"Clearly the last lesson wasn't enough."

I clutched the fabric of his pants, every word torn out of me. "You know exactly why my mother ended up in a vegetative state."

"Rose stole my residency spot. She stole my work. And after she won the award, she came to rub it in my mother's face."

"How dare you let her anywhere near my mother?"

He said nothing, only pulled his pants free from my grip.

"That's nonsense. Rose was sharing good news with her. She's Rose's family, too."

Then he bent down, scooped Rose into his arms with exquisite care, and walked away.

The last thing I registered was his retreating back -- and the messages Rose had once sent, crashing through my mind one after another.

"Your pathetic mother's pathetic daughter is just as useless. You couldn't beat my mother, and your daughter can't beat me."

"I've already taken her career. Next, I'm taking her man."

"The one who isn't loved is the real homewrecker. Your mother should never have gotten in my mother's way. She deserved to die."

When I opened my eyes again, the sharp smell of disinfectant filled my nose.

Tears slid from the corners of my eyes. My hand moved to my stomach.

My baby. I hadn't even had time to feel joy at its existence before it was taken from me.

Maybe I was never meant to be a mother.

Maybe it was for the best. Adrian and I had long passed the point of no return.

I caught the wrist of the nurse who was inserting my IV. "How is my mother doing today?"

She pulled her hand free. "Mrs. Cole, your own health matters, too."

"I'm just asking about my mother. It'll only take a second."

She went quiet, something like pity flickering in her eyes.

My head buzzed. I ripped the needle from my arm and stumbled out of the room.

But I stood in the hospital corridor, suddenly unable to remember which way to go.

I was crying, frantic and lost, when Adrian appeared in front of me. His gaze dropped to my bare feet, and his brow furrowed.

I didn't care. I seized his sleeve like it was the last lifeline I'd ever be thrown.

"Adrian, I want to see my mother."

My voice was raw and broken.

He swept me up into his arms and headed toward the ward without a word.

"Do you have any idea you just had a miscarriage? Walking around barefoot on these floors -- do you want to ruin your health for good?"

I forced the rising panic down.

When I finally spoke, my voice came out small and cautious. "Adrian... how is my mother?"

He didn't slow down. His expression didn't change. "Mom's fine. I moved her to a better hospital."

I started to struggle in his arms. "Put me down. Which hospital? I need to see her."

He held on tighter, his tone still gentle. "Don't fight me. Once you've recovered, I'll take you there."

Something wasn't right.

Adrian hadn't been that man in a long time -- the one who'd get angry if I walked barefoot on a cold floor, the one who ached over every bump and bruise I got. All he cared about now was Rose. I could still see his back as he'd walked away from me before I passed out. He wouldn't go out of his way to transfer my mother to a better hospital. Not anymore.

I couldn't afford to provoke him again. I went still. Gently, coaxingly, I stroked his hand, the way I used to when things were sweet between us.

"Adrian, I promise I won't pull Rose's hair again."

A pause.

"Did you stop my mother's medication again?"

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