All Chapters of Rejected By My Husband, Desired By My Doctor : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

AdrianI stood in the open doorway of the balcony and watched another man kiss my wife.The sight burned through every layer of control I had left. Damien’s hands were on her, her body was leaning into his, and the quiet, intimate way they held each other made the public scandal with Doris feel almost clean by comparison. Something dark and final settled in my chest.“Evelyn.”Her name left my mouth like a growl. She quickly broke the kiss and turned. The moment her eyes met mine, the color drained from her face.Damien shifted slightly in front of her, already positioning himself between us. That single movement was enough.“Get away from her,” I said, stepping fully onto the balcony. My voice was low and steady in a way that felt more dangerous than shouting.Damien raised both hands in a calming gesture. “Adrian, this is not the place. Let us talk inside.”“Do not tell me where to talk.” I looked past him to Evelyn. “Is this how it ends? After everything? You stand here and let him

AdrianI woke to the sound of my phone vibrating so violently against the nightstand that it nearly rattled off the edge. The screen was already crowded with missed calls and messages stacked on top of one another. Paul’s name appeared again as the device continued its relentless buzzing. For a long moment I only stared at it, the events of the previous night still sitting heavy in my body. My ribs ached. My knuckles were split.I finally answered.“Have you seen it?” Paul’s voice was tight, almost strained. “Adrian, tell me you have seen the news.”“What news?”“Check any platform. Right now. You are trending.”I put him on speaker and opened the first news app. The headline hit me like a second punch to the face. A shaky but clear video filled the screen. It began in the middle of the fight—my fist connecting with Damien’s jaw, the two of us crashing against the railing, the brutal exchange of blows, and then the moment I sent him over the balcony. The caption was already savage.

Adrian I drove home with the board’s decision still ringing in my ears. Paul in charge. Temporary leave. The company I had built treated like something that could function without me. The public video had done more damage in twelve hours than years of careful work had ever prepared me for. By the time I stepped into the house the last of my composure had already begun to crack. Margaret was waiting in the sitting room, exactly as I expected. She took one look at my face and knew. “They asked you to step aside,” she said. “Paul is taking operational control.” The words tasted like ash. “Effective immediately.” Her expression twisted into pure disgust. “Of course he is. You spent years elevating that man, giving him visibility, letting the board see him as indispensable. Now they look at him and see a cleaner, quieter alternative to the liability you have become. You handed them the replacement yourself.” I stood there and took it. Every word landed because there was truth in it. I

EvelynI was still standing in the small lounge of the hospital when the notifications began stacking on top of one another. There were new posts… New articles... Screenshots. Screenshots? The story that had spent the previous day framing Adrian as a violent, out-of-control husband had turned with vicious speed. Now the narrative claimed I had been involved with Damien long before any public scandal. It was too hard to believe.Private conversations were being shared—messages that read as intimate, suggestive, and in several places openly sexual. I scanned through them quickly, meeting plans, late-night exchanges, fantasies I had never written and never spoken.I felt the phone slip in my hand. My pulse began slamming so hard I could hear it in my ears. The words on the screen refused to stay still.“None of this is true,” I said. The sentence came out thin and too fast. “Kendall. None of this is true.”Kendall took the phone from me before it could fall. She scrolled in silence wh

AdrianI spent the better part of the day alone in the study tracking every new development in the online storm that had overtaken my life. The conversation had split into clearly opposed camps, and I read both sides with the same detached attention I once reserved for hostile takeover reports. On one side, a loud contingent of women framed Evelyn as the victim of a calculated smear. They questioned the authenticity of the leaked chats, pointed to the timing of their release, and accused me of manufacturing evidence to escape accountability for the hospital fight and the photographs with Doris. Their language was sharp and moralizing. On the other side, a loosely connected network of accounts operating under the banner Women Fighting for Men had thrown its full weight behind me. They recirculated the live-streamed fight video, highlighted every suggestive line from the released messages between Evelyn and Damien, and repeated the claim that I had been the one betrayed long before a