The Surgeon's Betrayal My Husband and His Mistress Behind Bars

"Watch your tone," Nathaniel snapped. "Who said I don't care? Keep looking. If you can't find it, that's your problem. Nora's exhausted—I'm taking her home."

His gaze turned cold. "She's an intern, Rachel. Expecting her to take full responsibility is ridiculous. If anything goes wrong, it's because you failed to manage your team."

I stared at him, nails digging into my palms. The anger I'd bottled up for months threatened to spill over.

This wasn't new. His blatant favoritism toward Nora had been chipping away at me for a long time.

Last week, on my birthday, I'd finally secured a night off. Nathaniel vanished. I found out later he'd gone to help Nora wash her dog—left me waiting in the dark without so much as a text.

Two days ago, she'd simply walked off with a limited-edition bag I'd commissioned a personal shopper to find. When I confronted him, he'd just shrugged. "Nora suits it better." As if that settled it.

"My management?" I choked out a laugh. "Nathaniel, think. If that gauze is inside the patient, it's not just my problem. You're the Director. If this blows up, it'll bury you too."

His eyes narrowed.

"Is that how you speak to your superior?"

Dead silence. The other nurses lowered their heads, afraid to breathe.

Nathaniel pushed through the operating room door without another glance. "You all stay. Search until you find it. Report to me in the morning."

Nora, teetering on stilettos that had no place in a surgical suite, shot me a triumphant smirk. "I'll be heading out then. Good luck."

The door slammed shut.

The youngest nurse dissolved into tears. "What do we do? If we don't find it, Mrs. Harrington will destroy us."

"The Director is so biased," another whispered furiously. "Dr. Qiao wears full makeup and heels in the OR, and he says nothing. We have a single loose hair, and he writes us up."

"Enough." I forced my voice steady despite the dread coiling in my stomach. "We have a job to do. Search the entire suite again. Every inch."

We scoured the room until dawn. Bins, floor, instrument trays—everything.

Nothing.

The silence screamed the only remaining possibility: the gauze was inside the patient.

Exhaustion and horror hit me at once. The room spun. I grabbed the counter to steady myself as a nurse pressed hot water into my trembling hands.

"Drink," she urged.

I took a sip, trying to clear the fog. I had to tell the family. I had to—

Sharp heels clicked down the corridor.

Nora breezed in, humming, a fresh coffee in hand. "Morning."

She scanned my haggard face and feigned shock, covering her mouth. "Oh my god, did you stay up all night? You look terrible."

She shoved the cup at me. "Here. On the house."

My gaze locked on her coat—a white mink I'd bought with my year-end bonus but never had the heart to wear. She was wearing my clothes. Again.

Red clouded my vision. I slammed the coffee onto the table. Brown liquid sloshed over the rim.

"The gauze is in the patient, Nora. How do you intend to fix this?"

Her smile faltered. "How... how can you be sure? Maybe you just missed it."

She recovered quickly, her expression hardening. "If you're incompetent, don't blame me." She rolled her eyes and flopped onto the sofa without even removing her shoes.

"What is all this noise?"

Nathaniel strode in, brow furrowed. "Is this a hospital or a market?"

Nora shot up, voice dripping syrup. "Nathaniel! You're here early."

I opened my mouth to report the crisis—the missing gauze, the patient in danger—but he cut me off with a sharp clap.

"Listen up." His gaze swept over the exhausted nurses. "Nora performed exceptionally during yesterday's surgery. She has officially passed her internship."

He paused, a faint smile touching his lips.

"As of today, she is a full-time attending physician."