My Ex-husband Begged me to Save Him

The next morning, Greg rubbed his temples, which were still sore from the hangover. Then he pushed open the hospital room door.

"Ronda, after thinking it over last night, as long as you're willing to publicly apologize, I can..." His voice abruptly stopped.

The room was empty, and the bed was neatly made.

On the bedside table lay a bloodstained cufflink and a divorce agreement marked "divorce with no possessions," already dried.

"Where are you, Ronda?"

He suddenly panicked. The feeling of being stripped of something became even more intense than the night before.

He rushed into the bathroom. No one was there.

He ran out into the hallway. Ronda was not there.

"Where's Ronda?" He grabbed a passing nurse and shouted.

"What? She was here yesterday evening..." The nurse trembled and was frightened.

Greg frantically checked the surveillance footage.

The cameras showed only a cleaner pushing a cart off the floor, and then it was gone.

"Mr. Riley, something terrible has happened."

Richard stumbled over with a pale face. "Mr. Rogers just issued a statement accusing you of usurping national-level research results. He says he's suing the hospital for illegal detention and intentional harm. Also... also..."

"What?" Greg's eyes were bloodshot.

"And the core database for the neurosurgery department has been locked down. Ronda set up a dynamic password, and no one can unlock it except her. Rose tried to forcibly crack it just now, but she triggered the self-destruct protocol. All data... is being irreversibly deleted."

"What?" Greg felt the world spin around him, a wave of dizziness sweeping over him.

That data was worth billions! It was even the key to the hospital going public next year!

"Find her. Search every place to find her," Greg roared hysterically.

He finally realized that Ronda, who had always silently stood behind him and allowed him to take what he wanted, had truly left.

She had vanished from his world, resolute and with resentment.

Greg stood by the large window and gripped the cufflink tightly.

He hadn't slept all night.

Several security department managers stood before the desk, heads bowed. They hardly dared to breathe freely.

"So, you're telling me a living person disappeared right under your noses?"

"Mr. Riley, the surveillance really... had no blind spots." The head of the security, his forehead beaded with cold sweat, said in an unsteady voice, "But the strange thing is, all the camera feeds skipped briefly last night during that exact period. The tech team checked. They say it was... apparently... caused by military-grade signal jamming."

It was military-grade signal jamming.

Greg abruptly turned and smashed the cup at the head of the security's feet.

The porcelain shattered, and the scalding coffee soaked the expensive, handmade carpet.

It must be Kenneth.

He had actually used his military connections to take Ronda away.

"Check the exit records. I've made arrangements with customs. If there's any information on Ronda's identification, detain her immediately."

"We've... checked it." Richard pushed the door open, and his face was pale. He was holding a tablet. "Mr. Riley, the system... has no record of her."

Greg's pupils shrank sharply. "What did you say?"

"Ronda's personal records were classified as top secret by the government an hour ago. We have no access to it."

A visceral blow, as if struck by a sledgehammer in the chest, hit Greg. A suffocating wave of loss of control made him loosen his tie.

Ronda was telling him that she would not just leave but walk away clean, completely, leaving him not a single trace to hold on to.

"That's fine." Greg laughed in anger. His knuckles cracked. "If she wants to hide, then let her be. Freeze all her bank cards and assets. Let's see how long she can last out there."

The office door was pushed open again.

The sharp sound of high heels on the floor cut through the air.

A figure in a white lab coat walked in. She had long hair cascading over slender shoulders.

Greg was momentarily distracted.

For an instant, he saw Ronda holding a freshly completed experiment report. Her eyes were bloodshot from sleepless nights, yet she was still smiling as she walked up to him.

"Greg..."

He instinctively took a step forward and reached out to her.

"Greg, do you think this outfit suits me?" Rose twirled around, and her face was adorned with a coquettish smile. She was holding a limited edition Hermès handbag that clashed with the solemn white lab coat.

Greg's hand froze midair. The light in his eyes instantly cooled into a fury. "Who allowed you to wear that coat?"

Rose hesitated and was frightened by his dark expression. "This... this is the spare lab coat my Ronda left in the office. Mine hasn't arrived yet, and I have to go to the lab today for handover..."

"Take it off." Greg's voice was as cold as ice.

"Greg..."

"Take it off!" Greg suddenly erupted in anger. He yanked the lab coat off her. "This is the uniform of the neurosurgery director. Are you worthy of it?

The ripping of fabric echoed sharply in the quiet office.

Rose screamed and stepped back while clutching her chest. Tears streamed down her face. "Greg, you're being mean to me... You never used to be mean to me... Is it because Ronda left, and you're feeling sorry for her? If that's the case, then I'll leave. After all, I'm just a burden no one cares about."

She cried as she ran out, deliberately knocking over a stack of papers as she passed the desk.

Greg closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His temples were pounding.

His reason told him he should comfort Rose.

Yet his body felt leaden, unable to move an inch.

"It's on that desk." He pointed at the jet-black computer tower beside him and said in a weary voice, "All the core data Ronda left is in there. You said you could take over, right? Open it."

Rose stopped crying and glanced timidly at the computer. "I... I'll try."

She sat in the chair and pressed the power button.

The screen lit up.

There was no standard login screen, but only a line of red code pulsing against a pitch-black background.

Then a dialog box popped up. "NON-ADMIN FINGERPRINT DETECTED. SELF-DEFENSE PROTOCOL ENGAGED. PLEASE ENTER THE CORE FORMULA FOR PHASE 3 OF THE 'NEURAL REGENERATION' PROJECT TO UNLOCK."