My Wife Stole Daughter’s Heart, I Left
My daughter Mia's congenital heart condition had worsened. She desperately needed the one-of-a-kind miniature artificial heart I'd spent five years developing.
The night before surgery, my wife Victoria stole it from the cold storage unit.
I rushed to the hospital like a madman, only to find her at the bedside of her first love Dominic Forsythe's son, prepping him for surgery.
"Mia can hold on for another six months. Dominic's son can't wait."
"What kind of father are you, being this selfish?"
Victoria stood there, righteous indignation written all over her face.
I looked at my daughter lying in her hospital bed, barely clinging to life, and dialed the overseas number I'd refused a dozen times before.
"Professor Ellsworth, this is Nathan Hartley."
"I'll accept your offer. But I need you to arrange a medical transport—immediately—to bring my daughter to your facility. Her heart needs emergency intervention."
I spent five years developing a life-saving heart for my daughter. Victoria stole it overnight and gave it to Dominic Forsythe’s son.
“Mia can hold on for another six months. Dominic's son can't wait.”
She had no idea I held all the core patents for that heart. That same night, I took my daughter aboard a medical jet and fled the country.
The next time we met, you would be on your knees begging me.