I was once known as "The Divine Hand," the youngest Chief of Cardiothoracic Surgery in history.
I didn't just perform surgeries, I invented them. However, after a high-profile operation on my own mentor went tragically wrong, leaving him in a vegetative state, my mother made me swear a blood oath.
“Your hands bring both life and ruin. Never touch a scalpel again, or the guilt will consume you forever.”
I traded my surgical scrubs for a floral apron. I married Lucian, a famous business tycoon my mother had selected.
For five years, I spent my days in the kitchen, meticulously preparing meals that were precisely calibrated medicinal formulas that cured his heart murmur and made him the top-performing executive in the city.
However, on our fifth anniversary, Lucian didn't bring flowers or gifts. Instead, he threw the divorce papers on my face with Leslie, the glamorous "Star Surgeon" of the year, by his side, her hands wrapped around his arms like she owned him.
Lucian sneered, "Lesley operates on kings and CEOs. You? You can't even look at a drop of blood without fainting. You’re a liability to my social standing."
“Sign the papers and I'll give you two hundred dollars every month as your monthly allowance. Considering your lifestyle, that's more than you ever need.” He mocked.
I stared at the divorce papers in my hands. This was what he was paying me for being a submissive wife.
"I’ll sign," I said, "and I’ll let you keep the house and the stocks. But only if Lesley can correctly identify the three hidden toxins I’ve neutralized in your body over the last five years using only the meals you mocked me for cooking.”
“If she’s the 'genius' you claim, surely she can diagnose the man she's sleeping with.”
