The Philanthropist's Wife Takes A Stand

"Jessica Wheeler! Don't test everyone's patience with your ignorance!

"You can throw your tantrums any other time, but not now! The fundraiser starts in twenty minutes. Are you really willing to let ten million dollars go down the drain? Could you possibly take that kind of responsibility?"

My husband, Aaron McKinzie, jabbed a finger toward my face as he shouted.

The crystal chandeliers overhead were blinding. In an instant, the warm, elegant atmosphere of the charity gala froze into icy condemnation.

"How could Mrs. McKinzie be so childish? Picking a moment like this to make a scene?"

"Mr. McKinzie is working to change the fate of countless children. How can she stand in his way?"

"What marital issue can't be dealt with in private? Even if she won't support her husband's work, she shouldn't use other children's lives as leverage!"

The whispers pierced me like needles, cementing my reputation as a woman causing trouble for no reason.

But I ignored them all. Nothing was left in me now but a do-or-die resolve.

"If we don't sign the divorce papers today, I'll destroy this activation remote."

I flicked my wrist in a feigned motion. The crowd gasped in horror, and sharp screams erupted around us.

"Don't—!"

A parent of one of the sick children suddenly dropped to his knees with a heavy thud.

"Mrs. McKinzie, I'm begging you—please save my child. This is her only chance to live!"

He slammed his forehead against the floor, again and again, until blood seeped from his brow.

Seeing this, several other parents followed suit, kneeling down together.

Watching their bowed figures, my heart felt as if it were being sliced apart. Every breath hurt.

But the moisture in my eyes vanished in an instant, replaced by something far colder—hatred.

Aaron shoved me hard.

"Jessica, are you satisfied now? Seeing all these people on their knees before you? Give me the remote. Now!"

I staggered backward, my lower back slamming into the hard edge of the sound console. Pain exploded through me, my vision blurring, but I still clenched my teeth and refused to let go.

"I'll give it to you," I said, "but you sign this first."

I flung the divorce agreement in front of him.

"I've always enjoyed helping people get what they want."

Aaron's assistant, Chloe Riddler, adjusted her gold-rimmed glasses, her gaze cold and sharp.

"Mrs. McKinzie, are you really prepared to watch your daughter die? You haven't forgotten, have you? Your daughter, Mia, is one of the core beneficiaries of this charity fund. If you ruin today's fundraiser, her targeted surgery won't proceed. In her condition, she likely wouldn't last more than six months."

She stared at me intently, triumph swirling undisguised in her eyes.

Chloe's words detonated the room. Voices surged like a tidal wave.

"Has Jessica lost her mind? She's gambling with her own daughter's life just to get a divorce."

"I heard the story behind this foundation is incredibly moving. Once launched, it raises at least ten million and helps tens of thousands of families."

"Look at her—she's clearly determined to sabotage an eight-figure donation today. Her motives are despicable!"

How could I forget my daughter's illness?

Before coming to the fundraiser, I had gone to the hospital to see Mia. She held my hand and said happily, "Once Daddy's foundation launches, we'll have the money for my surgery! Then I can come home healthy!"

The daughter I had nearly given my life to bring into this world had always been my light—my life, my purpose, my only hope. As long as she could live, I was willing to do anything.

Yet now, gripping the remote in my hand, my eyes were utterly calm.

"If you want it," I said evenly, "sign the divorce agreement first."