All Chapters of Surgeon's Revenge: From Ex Wife To Country's Best Doctor : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Katrina's POVThe nerve of being summoned to your own teardown and not even getting a heads up about the dress code.Emma's text said 'come tonight, it's important," and I'd spent the whole drive there mentally rehearsing arguments about the gala seating chart because it felt like the most Emma thing to call me for. There was a pregnancy test in my bag in a pink box. I'd been twelve days late, had two weeks of nausea introducing itself every morning like an unwanted roommate. I'd thought after dinner, I'd take the test. Maybe tonight I'd finally give them what they wanted. Three years of his family treating my womb like a malfunctioning piece of machine, and I was finally about to hand them what they wanted. I'd even practiced looking humble about it.I walked into the dinning room smiling like an idiot.Nicholas sat at the far end of the table. Konrad to his left, Emma to his right. And Calista, sitting between my in-laws with her hands folded. We hadn't spoken in eight weeks. Not si

Spencer POV I almost took the highway.I should have taken the highway. The highway was faster, better lit, and didn't require the specific kind of attention that the mountain roads demanded in rain like this. But I'd driven the highway home four hundred times and my brain had started finishing the route without me, leaving my conscious mind alone in the dark with a sixteen-year-old boy's chart and the particular sound a waiting room makes when everything has already gone wrong.The mountain road required both hands and focus. That was the only reason I took it.Ten Years in emergency medicine and I still hasn't found the off switch. Sage said I was married to the Job, usually with the specific energy of someone who had decided your life was her personal renovation project. She wasn't wrong, she was almost never wrong, which was its own kind of exhausting.But saving lives was clean and straightforward. You either did it or you didn't, and the options were medical, not emotional and

Katrina's POV The first thing I noticed was the ceiling.It was white and textured. I stared at it for what felt like a long time, processing it the way your brain processed simple things when it's rebooting from somewhere it was never supposed to go.The ceiling was white. I was breathing. I was alive. That landed a second later. I was actually alive. My left side felt like someone had taken a crowbar to my ribs, my head was an experiment in pain I hadn't consented to, and my throat felt like I'd swallowed the entire river rather than just most of it.I tried to sit up. The pain that exploded through my left side was so immediate and violent that I hissed. And a firm hand came to my shoulder."Easy." A male voice spoke. "You have three cracked ribs on the left side. Sitting up fast is going to be a no from your body for awhile."I turned my head. The man beside me was early thirties, and had a blank expression. He was sitting in a chair like someone who had been there for hours."Wh

Scarlett's POV "Talk me through what you're seeing."Silence from the observation gallery above. The kind that meant the residents up there was deciding between answering wrong or not answering at all. I kept my hands exactly where they were, the mitral valve exposed, posterior leaflet repairs, annulus reshaped and holding, and waited with the patience of someone who had learned that silence was its own kind of pressure."The.... the repair looks symmetrical," a voice finally said. A female in her third year. The one who'd spent the last two hours taking notes instead of watching until I'd quietly pointed out that no exam would ever ask her to describe what a valve looked like from a gallery."Looks symmetrical," I said. "Or is symmetrical?""It is symmetrical." She said after a while. "The movement on both sides is matching which means the tension is even.""And why does it matter to you at 3 AM when this patient is back in your ICU and something feels wrong?""Because uneven tensio

Scarlett's POV Spencer was already in my kitchen when I came downstairs.This was not unusual. Spencer in my kitchen at 7 AM was as predictable as Aiden's hair losing whatever argument he'd started with it overnight. He had a key he'd never asked for and a drawer of things he'd never officially move in and a coffee mug that was simply his in the way that things became his, quietly, without announcement, until one day it was."Good morning," he said, without turning from the stove."Morning." I sat at the counter and the cup appeared in front of me before I'd finished settling.Aiden appeared first, backpack half-zipped, soccer jersey inside out, hair in active conflict with gravity."Uncle Spence." He dropped into the chair beside me and pointed at the stove. "Whatever that is, make extra.""It's eggs.""I guess I'll have extra eggs." He said quickly."You say that every morning and you never finish what I give you.""Today feels different." He reached across for the orange juice. "U