Late at night, I had just finished a ten-hour surgery when my phone buzzed frantically in the locker. It was a new intern in our department. She tagged everyone in the hospital group chat. "Getting married tomorrow! Everyone has to come celebrate! No gifts needed — my husband's covering everything!" Exhausted, I replied out of politeness. "Sorry, I have plans tomorrow. Congratulations!" The next second, she messaged me directly. "Dr. Clarke, don't be ungrateful. My fiancé is a major investor in this hospital. You really think a broke doctor like you can afford to make an enemy of him?" "I even saved you a spot helping with reception. Isn't this exactly the kind of upscale event where a washed-up woman like you might actually meet someone?" A moment later, she posted her wedding photos in the hospital group chat. When I saw my husband kissing her in one of the pictures, I laughed. So the man who married into my family and owed everything to us had the nerve to keep a mistress — and actually planned to marry her. I replied directly in the group chat. "Fine. I'll give you a gift you won't forget." I turned off my phone and headed straight home. The house was a mess. I'd left in a rush that morning, and the shoes by the door were still lying sideways. My husband, Ethan Walker, hadn't come home either. Too busy with wedding preparations to remember he had a wife. He'd clawed his way up from nothing, all thanks to my family, the Clarkes. Step by step, he became what people now called a promising young investor. My long-term neglect had apparently made him forget where he came from. He actually believed he was someone important now. I let out a cold laugh and dialed the family attorney. "Freeze all assets under Ethan's name immediately. Cancel every card I authorized for him." "Also, have a special package prepared and delivered to the wedding venue by morning." I didn't sleep that night, but I wasn't tired. Just a strange, cold clarity. Just as I was heading out in the morning, a text from Ethan came through. "Honey, you must be exhausted with all those surgeries lately. When I get back from my trip, I'll make it up to you." "I've even got a surprise lined up for you." Playing the devoted husband, same as always. I typed back. "Great. And when you see me, I'll have a big surprise for you too." At the venue, the new intern — Abigail Mitchell — stood in her wedding dress, beaming as she greeted colleagues from the hospital. "Oh, really, no gifts necessary. My fiancé's taken care of everything." "He's the lead investor in our hospital, so going forward, he'll be looking out for everyone here." Someone spotted me and shifted into a snide register immediately. "Well, look who it is. The untouchable Dr. Clarke. What brings you to Abigail's wedding?" A nurse beside her jumped in. "I heard Dr. Clarke's past thirty and still on her own. Maybe she heard Abigail's fiancé is a major investor and came to work the room." "Dr. Clarke, you always acted like you were above all of us. Guess you're just like the rest of us after all." I ignored them. Instead, I wheeled over a gift box — prepared by the household staff — that stood taller than a person and placed it directly in front of Abigail. Hanging from the top of the box was a dog collar. Her face went pale instantly. "Charlotte Clarke! What is your problem? I was generous enough to invite you, and you show up with a dog collar? Who exactly are you calling a dog?" I replied evenly. "I have a male dog at home. He marks territory everywhere — might've gotten to you without you knowing. I figured the collar might come in handy someday." Abigail snapped. "Charlotte! Say that again! Who's the dog? You came here just to start something, didn't you?" "You're just a woman who got left behind. You see me young, happy, marrying well — and you can't handle it." "My fiancé is on his way. One word from him and you're done at that hospital." I took a slow step back to stay out of range. Then I nodded toward the gift box. "Alright. Time to open your present." I tore off the wrapping in front of everyone. Inside was a large custom display board. "To the bitch and the dog — may you haunt each other forever. To the cheater and the mistress — may you never be apart. And may karma collect from you both."
The room went dead silent. Abigail was shaking. "Charlotte! You're out of your mind! You're jealous I'm marrying someone like Mr. Walker, so you pull this cheap stunt for attention!" I rubbed my temple like her shrieking was giving me a headache. "Abigail, are you absolutely sure you want to marry him?" She lifted her chin. "Obviously. My fiancé Ethan is the hospital's biggest investor — worth a fortune. You're a doctor on a salary. He generates that in a month." "Once I marry him, I'll be in a different league entirely. Someone you all have to look up to." Her sycophants immediately joined in. "Abigail was born for this. Not like some people, still chasing validation at her age." "Dr. Clarke, after a stunt like this, how are you going to show your face at work?" "Offend an investor's wife? Might as well start updating your résumé." Absolutely ridiculous. Chasing validation? If they only knew I was the one who built that man from scratch. Becoming a doctor had been my only ambition growing up. The year I graduated from medical school, my father gave me a hospital — so I could practice medicine in a place I loved, without the politics. Ethan? An investor? He was someone I'd taken a chance on. Someone I could just as easily take back. Abigail, mistaking my silence for retreat, grinned wider. She pulled out her phone, dialed, and put it on speaker. "Honey, where are you? Some woman is making a scene at our wedding — that Charlotte from my department. She crashed the ceremony and brought a display board trashing us!" Ethan's panicked voice crackled through. "What? Charlotte? Stay calm, baby, I'm almost there. Don't make it worse!" She hung up, smug. "Hear that? My man's on his way. You're finished, Charlotte. Not just fired — I'll make sure no hospital in this city touches you." Our colleagues whispered. "She's really done it this time." "Dr. Clarke's usually so sharp — what got into her?" Abigail turned back to me, savoring it. "Charlotte, I'll give you one chance. Since we're colleagues — apologize, take that board down, and I'll ask my fiancé to go easy on you." I stepped forward, eyes steady on hers. "Apologize to you?" "You're not worth it." I pulled a framed photo from my bag and held it up in front of her face. "Look closely. That billionaire you're about to marry is my legal husband." "You're just the other woman playing dress-up."
The photo frame hit Abigail's hands and clattered to the floor. She froze for a second — then broke into exaggerated laughter. "Charlotte, have you completely lost it? You're so desperate you photoshopped a fake wedding picture and convinced yourself my fiancé belongs to you?" She picked up the photo, didn't even look at it, and tore it in half. "I've heard rumors about some of the women on staff here being unstable — now I know it's you." "You found out my fiancé is a major investor and just couldn't control yourself. What are you going to do next — throw yourself at him the second he walks in?" She turned to the crowd, playing it to the room. "Everyone, take a look! A senior doctor in my department, fabricating lies, claiming my fiancé is hers. Has anyone ever heard anything more pathetic?" One of her loyal followers stepped up immediately. "Dr. Clarke, I've worked beside you for years. I never realized you were capable of this." "Mr. Walker is completely out of your league. Just leave before you embarrass yourself any further." Voices joined in from all sides. People started pushing me toward the exit. "Get out! Don't ruin Abigail's day!" I stumbled backward, my lower back catching the sharp corner of a table. After ten hours of surgery, my body had nothing left in reserve. Black spots crowded my vision. I gripped the wall and stayed on my feet. Abigail picked up a glass of champagne and threw it in my face. "Apologize. If you beg nicely, I might still let you help with reception." And then someone unexpected walked through the door.
"Charlotte? What is going on here?" I turned around. It was my mentor, Dr. Callan Carter — one of the most respected surgeons in the country. I crossed the room toward him, ignoring the champagne still dripping down my face. "Dr. Carter. I didn't know you'd be here." He was the person I respected most in the world. Years ago, when I went abroad for my fellowship, he wrote my letter of recommendation. He wasn't just a mentor — he was the closest thing to a second father I'd ever had. He took my hand and sighed. "I heard one of the junior residents was getting married. Thought I'd stop in." His gaze moved across the display board, then landed on Abigail — face twisted, eyes burning with fury. His brow furrowed. Abigail rushed over immediately, tears already forming. "Dr. Carter, please — you have to hear me out. She's been bullying me just because she has seniority!" Callan Carter had always made a point of protecting younger staff. "Charlotte, what is this? Whatever the conflict, a wedding isn't the place." Before I could say anything, Abigail got there first. "Dr. Carter, she's completely out of line! She's fixated on my fiancé and crashed my wedding to humiliate me in front of everyone! She brought a dog collar and that disgusting sign!" The colleagues around her piled on, twisting every detail. Dr. Carter's expression fell as he looked at me. Disappointed. "Charlotte. You're a senior physician. You set the standard for the younger staff. This is beneath you." "Apologize. Take that board down. Right now." My chest tightened. Even the person I respected most — without knowing any of the truth — had taken her side. She'd played the victim and he'd walked straight into it. Then Abigail stepped forward and swung a bottle directly at my head. "Ever hear that what goes around comes around, Dr. Clarke? You try to ruin someone's happiness, it has a way of finding you." "I'm three months pregnant with Ethan's child, by the way. Even if you're still holding out hope — that door is closed." Colleagues grabbed my arms and forced my head down. Glass from the bottle opened a cut on my cheek. And I laughed. Because honestly — what was more absurd than this? I pulled out my phone through the blood and sent a quick text to the household staff. Abigail stopped at my laughter. I pushed her off and stood up straight. I looked around the room. Then my eyes settled on her stomach. "Since you want this child so badly. Since you want to be Mrs. Walker so badly..." "Let me give you one more gift." Her expression shifted. "What are you doing?" Seconds later, the hotel's main screen lit up. Abigail's face drained. And Ethan — who had just walked in — stood frozen, staring at the screen.
Watch? https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/20260619hWiH38klxA ? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "Novelix" app ? search for "ni762685", and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix