His Mistress Had HIV,So He Locked His Ex-Wife in a Morgue

When I refused, Old Mr. Delgado had my younger brother expelled from his university.

My parents called in tears, sobbing that they'd just been in a car accident—one step closer and they would have died.

I had no choice but to give in.

At the time, I already had a boyfriend. We'd been together for ten years.

He knew the truth. He was still waiting for me.

Old Mr. Delgado sighed. "I've seen the news these past few days. Since a forced marriage yields no sweetness, I'll let you go."

"But you're still weak. I've arranged a professional care team. Leave after your postpartum recovery."

Sophie Pruitt's screaming dragged me back to reality.

I scanned her condition.

Severe lacerations to her lower body, complicated by a raging infection. The tissue had already begun to necrotize. Worse than I'd anticipated.

She was convulsing from the pain, yet still hurling abuse.

"Useless! All of you, useless! You can't even handle a little wound? Keep this up and I'll have this hospital shut down by morning!"

"Men are all the same—disgusting pigs! They get what they want and disappear, leaving me here to suffer! When I get out, I'll skin every last one of them alive!"

I pulled on sterile gloves, my expression blank. "Miss Pruitt, the examination shows severe vaginal lacerations with multiple pathogenic infections. You need surgical debridement immediately."

The moment she heard surgery, she exploded again, ignoring the pain. "Surgery? Who gave you permission to cut me open? I'm warning you—if you leave a single scar on my body, you'll regret it!"

"I'm supposed to wear a couture wedding gown! I'm marrying into one of the wealthiest families in the country! Can you afford to pay for ruining that?"

Her eyes burned with venom as she glared at me. "You're doing this on purpose, aren't you? Trying to destroy me? My fiancé is the richest man in the city! One word from him and every single one of you will be out on the street!"

I cut her off. "It's too early to worry about any of that. If we don't operate now, the infection will spread. Forget marriage—you could suffer permanent damage to your reproductive system. Or worse, it could kill you."

I was simply stating facts.

For patients like her, sympathy was worthless.

The nurse beside me handed over the surgical consent form. Sophie snatched it and tore it to shreds.

"Sign? I'm not signing anything!" she shrieked. "You quacks are trying to hurt me! I'll report every one of you! I'll destroy your careers!"

Then something seemed to occur to her. Her gaze turned venomous, locking onto me. "Who do you think you are? You think you're qualified to operate on me? Get your chief of surgery in here. Now. Or I'll have my fiancé tear this dump to the ground!"

If her condition weren't so critical, I wouldn't bother.

But duty is duty. I couldn't bring myself to walk away.

I had no patience for her theatrics. "I'm the only surgeon in this hospital who can perform this procedure. Where's your family? We need a signature."

At the mention of family, Sophie faltered. "Family? I don't need family. I make my own decisions."

"Just do the surgery! If you delay and something goes wrong, can you handle the consequences?"

I reminded her again. "Hospital policy requires a family member's signature. Or what about your fiancé?"

My tone stayed flat. Routine. Clinical.

Sophie's face contorted. "You'd better keep your mouths shut. If a single word of this leaks, I'll make sure none of you ever see another sunrise."

I raised an eyebrow but didn't press further.

I'd seen this kind of thing plenty of times in this hospital.