My Husband Stole Our Daughter's Kidney For His Mistress Novel by Seraphina_4ever _ Novel




My Husband Stole Our Daughter's Kidney For His Mistress Chapter 01

Abusing his position as a doctor, my husband, Myron Powell, secretly gave the kidney meant for our daughter, Jeanne Powell, to Ximena Duncan, his first love's daughter.
Jeanne's health took a sudden turn for the worse, and despite all attempts to save her, she died.
Meanwhile, Ximena's surgery succeeded, and Myron, overjoyed, sent thank-you gifts to the entire hospital staff.
I collapsed from rage. When I came to, I was told I had cancer and that my days were numbered.
Numb with despair, I left the hospital clutching Jeanne's urn.
Alone in a home that had lost all its warmth, I drew up the divorce papers.
-
It was ten o'clock at night when Myron Powell finally came home.
The moment he shut the front door, the living room lights flickered on, startling him.
There I was, sitting on the couch with a white porcelain urn in my arms. It looked as though I had been carved into that spot hours ago.
"Leanna, have you lost your mind? It's the middle of the night—why are you sitting here trying to give me a heart attack?"
At the sound of Myron's loud rebuke, I slowly lifted my head and looked at him.
Even at this hour, he was still the image of perfection. Not a single hair was out of place, and his shirt remained impeccably crisp.
It was obvious just how much Cecelia Duncan and Ximena Duncan—the ones he had been carefully tending to every day—meant to him. Even he, habitually lazy, had suddenly started obsessing over his appearance.
As I stared at him in silence, irritation spread across his face.
"You're still holding a grudge over the kidney?"
My arms tightened around the urn.
"I already said there will be other donors! And my duty as a doctor comes first. Ximena is at her peak recovery window. This transplant gives her the absolute best chance at a normal life!
"Look, I get that you're heartbroken for Jeannie. But she's already waited this long. Another delay won't kill her. She's my daughter. I won't let anything happen to her..."
His voice was thick with impatience, so matter-of-fact, as if I were nothing more than some hysterical woman making a scene.
But that kidney could have made all the difference!
After losing it, Jeanne Powell's condition rapidly worsened, and she never opened her eyes again.
She was so little. Before she died, she clutched my hand and asked why her daddy hadn't come, whether he didn't like her anymore.
All I could do was kiss her cheeks over and over, telling her I was there—and that I'd never leave her side.
She never got to see her father one last time.
And Ximena lived, because the donor kidney reached her in time.
But it was supposed to be my daughter's!
I hated this hypocritical, selfish man so much that I never wanted to see him again for as long as I lived.
Apparently satisfied with his scolding, Myron finally stopped talking and tossed his perfume-scented coat at me.
"Here. Wash it before I leave for work tomorrow, and make sure you iron it properly..."
I didn't reach out, indifferent and silent. The coat fell to the floor.
Myron frowned.
Then I looked up into his eyes and said firmly, "Let's get divorced."
Myron looked shocked.
His eyes filled with suspicion and disbelief as he asked, "What did you say?"
I forced a small smile. "I said, I want a divorce."
With that, I pushed the divorce papers across the table toward him.
"This is the divorce agreement. I don't want any of the property. The courthouse opens at nine tomorrow morning. Make sure you bring your ID."
A suffocating silence hung over the living room.
Myron ignored the papers, his face twisting with fury
"Are you done yet?!
"Do you really have to make this into a fight today? Mena needed that kidney more than Jeannie did! Haven't I made that clear enough? Leanna, can you stop being so selfish for once?!"
His furious glare bore into me. He clearly expected me to give in, just like I always did.
Unfazed, I spoke, my tone calm and flat, "Myron, I'm divorcing you. This is final."
His expression hardened even more, and he let out a mocking laugh. "Now you're threatening me?"
He snatched up his coat and put it back on, jaw tight, then turned and strode toward the front door.
Clearly, he had decided to spend the night elsewhere to avoid the fight.
When he reached the door, he turned back to warn me in an icy voice, "Leanna, let me tell you something—even if we do get divorced, Jeannie stays with me. You'd better not regret this."
Then he stormed off, slamming the door behind him.
Once again, the living room fell into a suffocating silence.
I stroked the white porcelain urn in my arms, the way one would comfort a scared baby.
During his stay, Myron didn't even ask whether Jeanne had been in pain today or if she had fallen asleep this late at night.
He hadn't even lowered his voice, and the slam of the door was deafening.
Nor did he care to ask what the urn in my arms contained.
I stared at the empty doorway, my gaze hollow.
Myron, you never got to see Jeanne one last time.
And you wouldn't get the chance to say the final goodbye to me, either.

READ FULL NOVEL HERE