The Surgeon's Final Cut，Walking Away from the Billionaire

My husband had an obsession: he would only sleep with virgins. When Tristan brought his eighth assistant to my clinic demanding a hymenoplasty, his mother texted me: [Still not divorcing him? This is the eighth one. You really have the stomach for anything, don’t you?] This time, I didn't scream or break down. I calmly prepped the girl and performed the surgery. When we stepped out of the OR, Tristan wrapped an arm tenderly around her. "There now. Your first time belongs to me." The girl blushed, casting an uneasy glance in my direction. "Oh stop, what are you saying? Your wife is standing right there. Aren't you worried she'll misunderstand?" Tristan finally looked at me, his gaze dripping with mockery. "Her whole family lives off my dime. As long as I'm happy, she'll do whatever I say. Besides..." He paused, giving me a dismissive up-and-down sneer. "She should be grateful. A damaged woman like her is lucky to have the title of Mrs. Hayes at all." Meeting his arrogant eyes, I simply nodded. Then I pulled out a stack of documents. "Since you're already here, sign these. Saves me the trip to your office." Tristan scribbled his signature across the papers without looking. Handing them back, he warned, "Take good care of her. Don't make things difficult for her, or I'll make you regret it." "Of course," I said quietly. As I watched him lead his new favorite down the hall toward a private room, I slipped the signed divorce settlement out from the stack. This time, I was done swallowing my pride. No sooner had Tristan left than my phone rang. It was his mother, Evelyn. "Do you have no shame at all? If you have an ounce of dignity left, divorce my son right now!" "Fine. How much are you paying me to leave?" Silence fell over the line. Evelyn clearly hadn't expected me to agree so readily. In her eyes, I was a gold-digger clinging to Tristan for his wealth. She had always believed I was beneath her son, making her my fiercest enemy throughout our marriage. From the moment we started dating, she had tried to run me off. After we married, every encounter was laced with venom. "Some women think bagging a rich man turns them into a queen overnight. But trash is trash." Her disdain trickled down into her high-society circle, and none of the other wives gave me the time of day. At first, for Tristan's sake, I bent over backward trying to fit in. When Tristan found out, he brushed it off. "Why bother pleasing them? They should be kissing your feet." Back then, his eyes were full of only me. He hadn't cared about the massive gap in our backgrounds. Supporting my family was his idea, not something I had ever asked for. When Evelyn discovered he was paying my parents' medical bills, she marched straight to their modest apartment. In front of all the neighbors, she pointed at them and screamed that they had sold their daughter. "Must be nice! If I knew raising a girl was so profitable, I wouldn't have bothered having a son!" Her words were vicious, cutting straight to the bone. My parents' health took a sharp turn for the worse after that humiliation. When Tristan found out, he had a massive blowout with his mother, shouting, "If you ever cross my wife again, we are done as mother and son!" After that, Evelyn kept her cruelty behind closed doors. Yet, barely a year had passed, and everything fell apart. On our first wedding anniversary, Tristan claimed he had an urgent business dinner and couldn't celebrate. Hours later, I saw him on his assistant's Ins story. He didn't have time to celebrate with his wife, but he had plenty of time to throw a lavish birthday party for his assistant. When he came home, I lost my mind screaming at him. Tristan merely scoffed. "She's Mr. Vance's daughter. It was networking. Stop acting like an insecure child." When he saw how genuinely crushed I was, he apologized. He swore on his life it would never happen again. A man's promise is worthless. The next time came sooner than I could have imagined. Over the years, my hysterical tears turned into numb silence. I realized that people don't rot overnight; maybe this was who Tristan had been all along. I had clung so tightly to the memory of how devoted he used to be. His performance was flawless, convincing me I had found true love, a man I could trust with my life. Until one day, right in my face, he spat: "You're not even a virgin, so what right do you have to expect my total devotion?"The air was sucked from my lungs. Seeing the raw agony in my eyes, Tristan seemed to realize he had crossed an unforgivable line. He fumbled, "I... I didn't mean it like that. I just—" His sentence was cut short by a ringing phone. His face softened into a gentle expression as he took the call, turning around and walking away without a backward glance. I watched his retreating back, feeling my heart rip in two. All those years of saying he didn't care... it was all a lie. Back when we first started dating, Tristan's business rivals couldn't find any dirt on him. He had proudly paraded our relationship, inadvertently turning me into a walking target. To break him, his enemies hired someone to assault me. That was the first time I saw Tristan truly see red. He nearly beat the perpetrator to death with his bare hands. Within twenty-four hours, he drove the rival company into bankruptcy, sending the mastermind behind bars for life. And now... "Are you serious?" Evelyn's suspicious voice snapped me back to the present. I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Yes." "Fine. How much do you want?" "Whatever you think getting rid of me is worth." For the first time in our marriage, I hung up before she could finish speaking. Infuriated, she blew up my phone with furious text messages. When I didn't reply, she swallowed her anger and wired five million dollars directly to my PayPal. It was nothing compared to the Hayes family fortune, but to me, it was more than enough. Once the funds cleared, I blocked her number. I immediately forwarded the signed settlement and my evidence to my divorce attorney, handing him full control of the proceedings. I figured I wouldn't have to look at Tristan ever again. But that very evening, he showed up at my private apartment—with Chloe in tow. Seeing them standing on my doorstep, my stomach churned. Tristan casually pushed past me, giving Chloe a tour as if he owned the place. "This unit is closest to headquarters. You'll stay here from now on. It'll be convenient for me to drop by." Chloe beamed. "Thank you, Mr. Hayes." "Tristan," I said, my voice ice cold. "This is my apartment." "Oh? We're drawing lines now?" Tristan smirked. "Fine. Then I suppose you'll be covering your parents' care facility bills on your own from now on? You don't need my money, right?" "You—" I couldn't believe he would sink this low just to please Chloe. Seeing me cornered, Tristan's smirk deepened. "Relax, I won't leave you on the street. You can move into that apartment near your hospital." My blood ran cold. Had he completely forgotten? That apartment near the hospital was where I was assaulted. Back then, the trauma drove me to severe depression, leaving me on the brink of suicide. Tristan was the one who held me every night and pulled me back from the edge. And now? I stared at him in utter disbelief. "Where did you say I should stay?" "What? Not good enough for you? It's bigger than this shoebox." Tristan paused, tapping his temple as if remembering a tiny detail. He turned to Chloe with an amused chuckle. "Oh, right, I almost forgot. That's the place where she rolled around with another man." "Smack!" The slap echoed through the room. My hand stung, and my heart hammered against my ribs. "Tristan, you bastard—" "Smack!" A sharp pain exploded across my own cheek. Chloe stood between us, trembling with manufactured rage, her face flushed. "How dare you hit him! You cheated on him with his competitor, and Mr. Hayes was generous enough to keep you around! Who do you think you are?!" Her frantic display of loyalty made Tristan laugh softly. "Alright, sweetie, don't waste your energy on her." He then turned to me with an air of magnanimity. "You hit me, Chloe defended me. We're even. Learn to be a bit more gracious, Natalie. Whether we stay together depends entirely on how well you behave."His threat was clear as day. This time, I was done enduring it. "Get out." "Natalie," he snapped, scowling darkly. "Do you really want to burn every bridge?" "Yes." "Fine. Have it your way." He gave me a chilling grin, grabbed Chloe's hand, and walked out. I knew Tristan was petty enough to retaliate, but I never imagined he could be this vile. By noon the next day, intimate photos of me were blasted across the hospital's main WhatsApp group, accompanied by a caption: "One hundred bucks a pop." In a single instant, I became the hospital's biggest joke. Colleagues who had long envied my rapid promotions and surgical skills pounced on the opportunity, reporting me to the board: [We suspect Dr. Hall of engaging in sexual favors for administrative advancement.] Cracking under public scrutiny, the hospital board launched a so-called "internal review," which was nothing more than a formal setup to pin the blame on me. In the end, my medical license was suspended and I was fired. The vice president of surgery, who was rumored to be my alleged partner, publicly turned around and claimed I had coerced him. Shaking with fury, I confronted him, asking why he would frame me like this. Instead, he looked at me with disgust. "You have the nerve to ask me, Natalie? What sick game are you and your husband playing? My wife doesn't believe a word I say and wants a divorce! Get away from me!" Listening to his accusations, I trembled from head to foot. I knew Tristan had pulled the strings, but I hadn't realized he would go so far as to destroy my entire career just to vent Chloe's frustration. He had personally stepped in to make sure my reputation was dragged through the mud. True love, wasn't it? He used to fight like that for me. Thankfully, my lawyer called later that afternoon with good news: our divorce decree was finalized. Once those papers were in my hands, Tristan Hayes would be nothing to me. Terrified that my parents would catch wind of the scandal online, I rushed to the care facility to check on them. When I arrived, I saw them being escorted out the front gates, their belongings packed into battered suitcases. They hadn't made a scene. They had simply taken their things and walked out in silence. Hiding behind a pillar, I heard my father's heavy sigh. "Our girl is at the end of her rope with Tristan. We can't let ourselves be a burden to her." My mother nodded silently. "I know." The two of them, their backs hunched with age and worry, shuffled down the sidewalk. Following them from a distance, I pulled out my phone and dialed my mother. I choked back my sobs while they pretended everything was fine. Just as I was about to hang up, my mother asked tentatively, "Sweetie, you and Tristan..." "We're divorcing, Mom," I said, tears spilling over. "The papers are signed. I've already booked your flights. Can you..." "We'll leave right now," she answered without hesitation. Without another word, I sent them the flight details. Watching their taxi disappear down the street, a massive weight lifted off my chest. Given Tristan's obsession with Chloe, there was no telling what he might do to my parents next. Getting them far away was the only safe option. That evening, instead of heading to the hospital apartment, I returned to our marital home. All my personal belongings were still there. When I pushed open the front door, I froze. Chloe and Evelyn were sitting in the living room. Evelyn's face instantly hardened. "You already took my money, and you're still clinging to my son?" "I'm here for my things." Ignoring her, I marched upstairs to pack. They followed me like prison guards, watching my every move. When I reached for my skincare bottles on the vanity, Chloe smirked. "Ms. Hall, didn't Mr. Hayes pay for all of this?" I ignored her, but with every item I packed, another snide comment followed. Finally, I spun around. "And whose money are you spending right now? The ink on our divorce papers isn't even dry yet. Legally, every penny Tristan has spent on you is marital property—and I have the right to claw it all back." "You..." Chloe stomped her foot in fury. Then, without warning, she threw herself onto the floor. "Ms. Hall, I only offered to let you stay a few more days! Why did you push me? Do you really hate me that much?" "Natalie!"Tristan stood in the doorway, his eyes blazing with fury. I didn't even bother defending myself. He glared at me with pure hatred before rushing to scoop Chloe up. "Are you okay?" he asked, panic in his voice. Chloe shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "I'm fine... I just don't understand why Ms. Hall..." She buried her face in his chest, sobbing hysterically. Tristan turned his murderous glare back to me. I looked at him coolly. "I'll be out of here as soon as I finish packing." "Apologize." His voice was dangerous, his fingers clamping around my wrist like a vice. The look in his eyes was unmistakable: "If you don't apologize right now, I will destroy you." "Tristan, you got me fired from my hospital. You had my sick parents kicked out of their facility. You painted me as a whore and dragged me through the dirt. And now you expect me to apologize over a mistress's crocodile tears?" I leaned in, meeting his gaze head-on. I wanted to see if this man had an ounce of a soul left. It turns out, once a man stops loving you, your every breath is an offense. "Everything that happened to you was your own doing! Don't try to change the subject. Apologize to Chloe right now, or else—" "Or else what?" I challenged, glaring at him without flinching. He faltered for a fraction of a second, his brow furrowing as he lowered his voice. "Do you always have to be this difficult? Chloe is young. Why pick a fight with her? No one is taking your title as my wife. Can't you just behave for once?" I genuinely couldn't fathom his twisted mind. If he didn't love me anymore, why wouldn't he just let me go? Ever since he cheated with his first assistant, I had demanded a divorce. Over and over again, he had flatly refused. Whenever I tried to leave, he targeted anyone who showed me kindness, destroying them one by one until only my parents remained in my corner. And now they were gone, safe from his reach. He had nothing left to threaten me with. "Tristan, in this house, it's either her or me." "Hah! The arrogance!" Evelyn sneered, cutting in. "You really think my son can't live without you? He only kept you around out of pity! A used, damaged woman who can't even carry a child has no place in the Hayes family!" Every word pierced my heart like a dagger. Chloe chimed in, feigning innocence. "Is that why you hate me so much, Ms. Hall? Because I'm pregnant and you can't have babies?" My face drained of color. "Oh, Ms. Hall, why pretend?" Chloe smiled sweetly. "You're an OB-GYN. Surely you could tell right away." Ignoring Chloe, I locked eyes with Tristan. "Answer me. Is she pregnant?" "Yes." "And you're keeping it?" "Yes." His voice was resolute. He even shifted slightly, shielding Chloe behind him as if protecting her from a monster. Looking at how fiercely the Hayes family guarded her, a bitter laugh escaped my throat. The laugh broke, turning into silent tears. I was mourning for myself, and for the child that never had the chance to be born. That was my first pregnancy—and Tristan's first child. Yet when I told him the news, there was no joy in his eyes, only a dark, brooding silence. Later, he told me, "Babe, you know I grew up without a father. I'm not ready. It's just not the right time for us." I knew better than anyone how difficult it was for my battered body to conceive. I pleaded with him, promising I could handle raising our child. Instead, he sank into a dramatic depression, acting as though my keeping the pregnancy would kill him. When my colleagues learned I was scheduling an abortion, they were horrified. "Dr. Hall, you of all people know this might be your only chance to ever carry to term..." I didn't let her finish. I knew the medical risks, but I was so desperate to protect Tristan, to ease his pain. In the end, I terminated our baby. And now, the man who claimed he could never be a father was fiercely guarding his mistress and her unborn child. Tears streamed down my cheeks. "Tristan... back then, our baby—" "Shut up, Natalie!" Tristan snapped, his face contorting in revulsion. "Keep your mouth shut! If you're not embarrassed to bring that up, I'm certainly disgusted to hear it!" I froze, entirely numb. What did he mean? Was he... suspecting me? A searing pain tore through my chest, but I forced the words out anyway. "So back then... you didn't hate the idea of a child. You just didn't want "my" child?" "Damn right! Because you're filthy!" Evelyn spat before Tristan could speak. And Tristan didn't deny it. In that singular moment, I realized my entire marriage had been a sick joke. A hollow smile touched my lips. I pulled an envelope from my bag and slapped it hard against his chest. "Take a good look. I hope you never regret what you've done." Tristan scoffed and casually opened the folder. With just one glance, his face turned ash-white. "This... this is impossible..."