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Saving Another With My Life Novel Cover

Saving Another With My Life

Trapped beneath earthquake ruins, a woman faces a life-or-death crisis alongside another victim. When rescuers arrive, her husband, billionaire Quintus Ford, makes a devastating choice. He demands they prioritize the other woman, claiming her pregnancy makes her the priority. He remains oblivious to the fact that his own wife is also pregnant and suffering from a severe blood clotting disorder. As her life fades, Quintus assumes responsibility for a decision that could cost him everything.
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Chapter 2

As if afraid her words would upset me, the nurse beside me quickly said, "Enough, stop talking!"

However, I wasn't upset at all. If anything, I felt like laughing.

If these people only knew that the so-called good husband they spoke of had abandoned his wife and child to serve another woman, I wonder how they would feel.

Yet, none of that mattered anymore. Right now, all I cared about was saving my child.

The anesthetic was injected into my body, and just before I lost consciousness, I weakly glanced at the young nurse.

"The child..."

I barely whispered those two words before drifting into a deep sleep.

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

The anesthesia still hadn't worn off, and I slowly raised my hand, instinctively resting it on my stomach.

"You're awake? How do you feel? Don't worry, the baby's safe," the nurse said as she entered. When she saw me awake, her eyes lit up with happiness.

As she adjusted my blanket, she couldn't help but say, "After everything your husband has done, you're still worrying about his child in a life-or-death situation. Is it really worth it?"

I bit back the pain, forcing a weak smile. "At the very least, the child is innocent, right?"

The nurse froze for a moment, then gave a small nod. Sympathy flickered in her eyes, but she said nothing more. Instead, she simply reminded me to rest before quietly leaving the room.

Exhaustion weighed heavy on me, and I was about to drift off when voices from the next room reached my ears.

"Quintus, it hurts..."

"I'm here, Nessa," he said as he soothed her.

I lowered my gaze.

"Quintus, the baby..." Vanessa whimpered.

"Don't worry, as long as I'm here, everything will be fine," he reassured her.

His voice held a tenderness I had never heard before. It was gentle, patient, and full of devotion.

"Shouldn't you check on Giselle? She seemed badly hurt..."

The moment my name was brought up, his tone shifted into one of pure disgust.

"Nessa, why waste your kindness on her?" he scoffed. "She's the one who made up lies to steal medical resources from you. Such a malicious woman deserves whatever happens to her."

My mind went blank, and tears flowed uncontrollably.

Compared to the wound from the steel rod, Quintus's words felt like a sharp blade, tearing me apart.

I couldn't bear to hear any more, so I forced my eyes shut.

Once my condition stabilized, I was transferred to a regular ward. I called the housekeeper, asking her to come take care of me.

The phone rang for a long time, but the other side didn't pick up.

I hung up, and not long after, the housekeeper entered with a meal box in hand.

When our eyes met, I saw the awkwardness and surprise in her gaze, like she had walked into the wrong room and didn't know whether to advance or retreat.

I tossed my phone aside and curiously asked, "Lydia, why didn't you answer the phone?"

She instinctively hid the meal box behind her and stammered, "It was Mr. Ford who asked me to come..."

A quiet laugh escaped my lips, but deep down, I wasn't surprised.

When the earthquake struck, Quintus had made sure the doctors saved Vanessa first.

Naturally, after the surgery, he could have his housekeeper take care of her first as well.

I cleared my throat and gave Lydia Jones a slight smile. "Since you're here, why don't you take me out for a walk?"

Lydia seemed reluctant but didn't dare protest. She only nodded and wheeled me out of the room.

Eventually, I stopped in front of Vanessa's room.

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