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You Can't Afford Your Genius Ex-Wife Now Novel Cover

You Can't Afford Your Genius Ex-Wife Now

After two years as billionaire Jack Velasquez’s neglected wife, Kailey is discarded with a cold divorce decree. While high society mocks the supposed gold digger, Jack’s ward falls ill with a fatal tumor. Desperate, he hunts for a legendary medical genius known as The Surgeon, unaware the savior is the ex-wife he scorned. Even when they meet, Jack remains arrogant, threatening to ruin her career unless she complies. Now, Kailey demands a fortune to save his family.
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Chapter 4

The ER at New York General was a battlefield. Sirens wailed, gurneys clattered, and nurses shouted over the noise.

It was 2:00 AM. Kailey was in her office, reviewing charts, when the door flew open. Tessa Powell stood there, her face pale and drawn.

"Dr. Randall! ER! Traumatic brain injury, acute herniation! Pupils are dilating!"

Kailey was on her feet before Tessa finished the sentence. She grabbed her white coat and sprinted down the hallway.

The trauma bay was a scene of controlled chaos. A middle-aged man lay on the gurney, his head bandaged, his breathing shallow. The monitor screamed a tachycardic rhythm.

The on-call neuro resident was sweating, his hands trembling as he adjusted the ventilator. "I can't get the ICP down! We need to crack his skull now, but the bleed is too deep!"

Kailey pushed past him, grabbing the CT scan from the lightbox. It was bad. An epidural hematoma, shifting the midline of the brain. The window to save him was measured in minutes.

"OR 2, now!" Kailey barked. "Call anesthesia. Tell them we're going in hot."

Suddenly, a woman screamed. "Is he going to die? Please, you have to save him!"

A woman in a torn dress and a young man in a business suit pushed past the security guard. The man's eyes were wild, his face red with panic.

"You're the doctor?" the young man snapped, looking Kailey up and down. "You look like you're still in college."

"I'm Dr. Randall," Kailey said, her voice level. "Your father is herniating. We need to operate immediately."

"I want Dr. Adler!" the man demanded, stepping in front of the gurney. "I want the chief! Not some kid!"

"Dr. Adler is out of the country," Kailey replied, trying to move around him. "I am the only neurosurgeon available. Every second we waste, your father loses brain tissue."

"I don't care!" the son shouted, his voice cracking. "I'm not letting you touch him! Where are your credentials? Where did you train?"

He grabbed Kailey's arm, his fingers digging into her bicep. "I want a real doctor! Not some diversity hire!"

Tessa stepped forward. "Sir, let her go! She's the best-"

"Shut up!" the son roared, shoving Tessa backward. "I'm calling our lawyer! If you touch him, I'll sue this hospital into the ground!"

The monitor alarm changed pitch. The man's heart rate was dropping. The herniation was worsening.

Kailey's eyes narrowed. "Sir, your ignorance is killing your father."

"How dare you!" the son screamed, raising his hand as if to strike her.

"Let her do it."

The voice cut through the noise like a blade. It was cold, commanding, and utterly authoritative.

The room froze. The son turned slowly.

Jack Velasquez stood in the entrance of the trauma bay. He wore a tailored black suit, a white shirt unbuttoned at the collar. Behind him stood two massive security guards and the hospital administrator, who was wiping sweat from his brow.

Jack's gaze swept the scene, landing on the doctor. His breath caught. The face under the harsh fluorescent lights was impossibly familiar. Kailey. His ex-wife. The woman who had signed away his fortune just days ago. What in God's name was she doing here, wearing a white coat and commanding a trauma bay? The world tilted on its axis.

He quickly masked his shock, his business instincts taking over. Before he could process the absurdity of the situation, he saw the patient's declining vitals. He turned to the hospital administrator beside him and asked in a low, urgent voice, "Who is she? Is she qualified?"

The administrator, flustered, stammered, "That's Dr. Kailey Randall, sir. Our new Deputy Chief of Neurosurgery. Dr. Adler himself recruited her. She's a genius."

Deputy Chief. The words echoed in Jack's mind. He looked back at Kailey, seeing her not as the quiet woman who haunted his mansion, but as a figure of authority. He made a split-second decision.

"The Velasquez Foundation funds this hospital," he said, his voice barely above a whisper but echoing with power. "I am vouching for this doctor's competence. Let her work, or I will have you removed."

The son paled. He looked at his mother, who was sobbing quietly, then back at Jack. He stepped aside.

Kailey didn't waste a second. She gave Jack a single, unreadable glance before turning her full attention to the patient. "Wheel him to OR 2! Move!"

As the gurney rolled away, Jack watched her go. He felt a strange pull, a jarring sense of dislocation. This was a side of her he never knew existed. He had spent two years married to that face, and he had never really looked at it. He turned back to the administrator.

"Make sure she has everything she needs," Jack ordered.

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