His Affair, My Glue, Their Screams at 2 AM novel Chapter 9

Mark's eyes were hollow.

As if all hope had collapsed in an instant.

I spoke very calmly.

"This was caused by complications. The doctor can testify. Though I did sign the consent form quite happily."

"Caroline! Evans!"

He roared, struggling to get up from the bed to grab my throat.

However, as soon as his body moved, he was caught by an IV tube.

He fell back onto the bed pathetically.

I took out a backup copy of the divorce papers from my bag, slapping it directly on his face.

The words "All property belongs to the wife" covered his eyes, like a final mockery.

"You're dreaming!"

Mark's eyes flared with a manic bloodshot color, his voice hoarse:

"As long as I don't agree to divorce, you can't divorce me! Even if we do divorce, you have no job, no income. Tell me, who will the judge give the baby to?"

Seeing my silence, Mark suddenly began to laugh.

A laugh with a kind of pathological smugness.

His expression became very gentle.

"Honey, I can forgive you, as long as you get sewn up down your pussy too. That way we can both live together, just like before. Wouldn't that be nice?"

My mind buzzed.

I looked up at him in disbelief.

How could Mark be this perverted?!!

But Mark seemed to suddenly understand something.

His expression grew increasingly certain.

"Honey, you've had a child, you're fat and ugly. No one will want you except me."

"Transfer a hundred thousand to Lisa now, and she'll never bother us again. Everything can start fresh."

I couldn't help but laugh.

Laugh from anger.

Mark, afraid I wasn't angry enough, added:

"But from now on, you'll have to obey me completely at home. You can't have any opinions."

I silently picked up the hot water kettle on the table.

Lifted the lid, and without hesitation poured all the scalding water between his legs.

"Oops, sorry, my hand slipped."

Even classmates he hadn't contacted in years sent messages cursing him.

The company also quickly fired him, citing "damage to corporate image."

Great.

Now Mark, like me, had no job.

Meanwhile, Mark's hospital room became ‘a celebrity spot'.

Every day patients or their families would deliberately pass by, pointing and discussing him through the glass.

Some even burst into his room to spit on him.

Under this double torture of mind and body, Mark's emotions became increasingly unstable.

He began smashing things in his room, shouting and screaming all day, frightening the nurses who didn't dare approach him easily.

The hospital had no choice but to move him to a remote private room to avoid disturbing other patients.

When he wasn't around, I installed a hidden camera in his room, with the lens pointing directly at his bed.

When I had nothing to do, I'd open my phone and watch him going crazy in his room.

It was quite stress-relieving.

From Mark's transaction records, I realized I wasn't the only victim.

Behind this might lie a huge black market chain.