The Divorced Architect's Spectacular Comeback

Chapter 6

Word Count: 709 | Released on: 13/05/2026

sheets. His brain felt like it had been hit by a sledgeh

od. Instead of fear, a flash of mal

oved Gardner aside, sending the older

to Crista's neck. The pulse was there, but it was thready.

Caleb Arnold, the trauma surgeon she had mentioned earlier. Caleb took one look at the blood-soaked bed and his face hard

a fist, but Caleb was already at the bedside, his hands mo

ng the woman hard across the face. "Mur

rt. The room erupted into chaos.

eb yelled. "G

her. Conrad instinctively moved to

ted a finger at his chest. "If she dies," she hissed, "I wi

he repeated, his voice bar

tling, Crista's eyes fluttered open. Her hazy gaze fo

gen mask from her face. Her voice was weak,

e gasped out, her voice a fragile thre

, and then her eyes rolled back. Sh

gth drained from his legs. He staggered back

t a run, leaving a trail of

ed her wheelchair toward him, grabbing the edge of his ja

e look in his eyes was feral, so full of rage tha

ning, following the trail of bl

behind the heavy metal doors. The red "In Surge

ounded his fists against the cold m

d into her bag and pulled out the crumpled piece of paper she had found i

and fluttered to the f

ck and white graininess showed a ti

defenses crumbled. His knees gave out. He sank

houlders shaking violently. A sound li

looking coldly at the man kneeling on the floor. Then he turned and walked into

Chapter End

Claim Your Bonus at the APP

Open

The Divorced Architect's Spectacular Comeback

Wu Xiaoyan Modern

“My husband of three years dragged me into the freezing autumn ocean because my stepsister claimed I bullied her. When she faked a sprained ankle in the shallow water, he immediately abandoned me in the roaring waves to save her, not knowing I was eight weeks pregnant. The icy undertow swept me away, causing a brutal miscarriage. Later in the hospital, my traumatized body started hemorrhaging, and I desperately needed a rare blood transfusion. My stepsister, who shared my blood type, held my life hostage. She forced my husband to sign our divorce papers before she would donate a single drop. By the time the blood reached me, my uterus was irreparably damaged. I permanently lost the right to ever be a mother. "The Anderson family can't have an infertile matriarch." My own parents said this as they falsified my medical records to protect her. And my husband, blinded by his misplaced loyalty, simply walked away, leaving me with a meager settlement. I lost my baby, my fertility, and my marriage all in one week. How could the people I trusted most be so completely heartless? But looking at the divorce papers, I didn't shed a single tear. I calmly signed my name and unsealed my Yale architecture degree. "I'm in. Send me the files for the Manhattan project." The weak, pathetic Mrs. Anderson died on that operating table. Crista Cherry is back, and it's time for them to pay.”