Divorce Him, Inherit The World

"I did everything I could."

The surgery had lasted thirteen hours. In the end, it failed. The baby Elara Everett had carried for six months wasn't saved.

As the words left Genevieve Beaumont's lips, anguished cries erupted from the family waiting outside the operating room.

The matriarch of the Everett family, Eleanor Everett, shrieked, "My great-grandchild!" before collapsing.

Elara's gurney was wheeled out, and the family immediately swarmed it. A chorus of dramatic sobs and hushed reassurances filled the air, and the sounds washed over Genevieve.

A cold hollowness spread through her chest.

She looked up to see Julian Everett leaning over the gurney, his fingers gripping the rail, his face etched with a concern that belonged more to a husband than a family member.

The crowd followed Elara's gurney into her private room.

Genevieve was left standing alone, still clutching her surgical mask, her body drained from the long operation. People bustled past her, their focus entirely on Elara. No one spared her a glance, let alone asked if she was tired.

Exhausted, Genevieve returned to the Everett mansion, where the house staff regarded her with cold stares, shrinking back as if she carried a plague.

Julian's younger sister, Ivy Everett, snatched a broom from Arthur Finch and swept it viciously against Genevieve's calves. "Get away from me, murderer! You're nothing but bad luck!"

The rough bristles scratched her skin, drawing a thin line of blood. Genevieve winced, a soft sound of pain escaping her lips.

Ivy let out a scornful laugh.

"Does that hurt? Don't act so special. The only reason you're even in this house is because of Elara's poor health and your medical skills-plus that rare Rh-negative blood type of yours. You're not family. You're a tool, a walking blood bag. Now that you've killed Elara's baby, I can't wait to see how you explain this to my brother!"

With that, Ivy spat at her feet.

In the three years since she'd married into the Everett family, Genevieve had learned her place. She was useful when needed and despised the rest of the time.

Everyone here treated her with either cold disdain or open sarcasm.

She had neither the energy nor the standing to argue. All she could do was carefully make her way upstairs.

The thirteen-hour surgery had taken its toll. Elara had hemorrhaged badly, forcing Genevieve to donate her own blood mid-operation. Now, a low-grade fever left her mind hazy and disoriented.

She had barely closed her eyes

when a brutal force yanked her from the bed.

She was thrown against the headboard, her head striking the wood with a sickening thud.

Wincing, Genevieve forced her eyes open. When she saw who it was, they stung with tears. "Julian, you're back. Elara's baby... I did everything I could."

Looming over her, Julian grabbed the collar of her shirt, his gaze like ice. "Everything? Days ago, you told me her check-up was perfect. That every indicator was excellent. Now, the baby is gone. And you have the nerve to tell me you did everything?"

Genevieve bit her lip, lifting her head to meet his gaze with red-rimmed eyes. "Julian, I did everything I could."

It wasn't her fault. Elara had a congenital heart condition. Three years ago, when Genevieve married Julian, Elara could barely walk a few steps without gasping for air.

For three years, she had worked day and night, using integrative therapies to nurse Elara back to health. And she had succeeded. Elara had become strong, stable, even capable of moderate physical activity.

Her condition had been stable for years, with only one scare early in her marriage to Marcus Everett.

Just days ago, the routine check-up had shown perfect results. Every vital sign was excellent. Then, without warning, everything had taken a drastic turn for the worse.

Genevieve had taken a single day off when Elara was struck with unbearable abdominal pain. By the time she had rushed to the hospital, the fetus had already lost all vital signs.

Even then, she had fought, pouring everything she had into the surgery, even her own blood.

Her conscience was clear.

But her justifications did nothing to thaw the ice in Julian's expression.

A cold, humorless laugh escaped him. "Is that so? Then tell me- why did Elara wake up crying that you gave her the wrong medication?"

Genevieve's brow furrowed. "What? That's impossible."

Julian's grip tightened, yanking her forward until his face was inches from hers, his expression twisted with disgust. "Tell that to Elara!"

Julian clearly didn't want to hear another word from Genevieve.

Elara's health had always been fragile; the pregnancy itself had been a huge risk.

Now, with the baby lost and her body so damaged, she would likely never conceive again.

To him, this child had been his cousin Marcus and Elara's one dream. And in his eyes, Genevieve had just brutally crushed it.

Eleanor had already fainted several times in her fury. Her last command before he left the hospital had been for Julian to drag Genevieve back.

The moment she entered the hospital room, the Everetts encircled her.

Someone-she didn't see who-shoved her hard from behind.

Weak from the fever, Genevieve couldn't keep her balance. She crashed to her knees right in front of Elara's bed.

She tried to push herself up, only to be kicked from behind again. A surge of fury and disbelief shot through her. She whipped her head around-and found herself staring up into Julian's chillingly indifferent eyes.

She froze.

"Julian... you..."

He stood over her, a tall, lean silhouette against the harsh sunlight. The light should have softened him, but it only seemed to deepen the shadows on his face, amplifying the cold menace radiating from him.

His lips were pressed into a thin, hard line. He stared down at her with complete revulsion, his gaze so flat and empty it was as if he were looking at an object, not a person.

In that moment, Genevieve understood.

Three years. Three years of dedicating herself to Elara's health, hoping her sacrifice might finally move Julian's heart. It had all been a complete joke.

"Murderer!" Helen Chandler, Elara's mother, shrieked from her seat beside the bed. "A vicious woman like you should pay with your life for what you did to my daughter!"

She punctuated the accusation by hurling her teacup to the floor. Shards of porcelain flew, one of them slicing the back of Genevieve's hand.

And there was Elara, sobbing in her mother's arms, her cries so wrenching she looked as if she might faint from grief.

But Genevieve saw it.

For just a second, as Elara hid her face against her mother's shoulder, her eyes met Genevieve's. They glinted with malicious triumph, and a cruel, venomous smile touched her lips before disappearing.

"Julian, I did everything I could," Genevieve pleaded, her voice cracking. "I don't know why the fetal heartbeat stopped. Just give me some time. I'll investigate this and find the truth." She struggled unsteadily to her feet, bracing her hands on her knees, desperately trying to reason with them.

But

her words were drowned out by Elara's renewed wails. Covering her face, her shoulders shaking with unbearable agony, she began to sob out her accusations.

"Oh, Genevieve... how can you say that?

That was my child. My only child. Do you really think I would do anything to harm my own baby?

It was you... you gave me that herbal medicine. I told you it was bitter, I begged you not to make me drink it, but you said..."

Elara dabbed at her eyes, casting a wounded look toward Eleanor, her lip trembling as if she were enduring unspeakable pain.

Eleanor slammed her hand on the table. "What else did Genevieve say?"

Elara's voice trembled pitifully. "Genevieve also said that if I didn't obey her, she would make me miscarry."

Elara looked up, a single, perfect tear tracing a path down her cheek. "But I did as you told me, Genevieve. I drank it. Why... why would you still do this?

You could have hurt me and done anything to me. But why my baby?

I know you resent how much Julian cares for me. We've been childhood sweethearts since we were little; some bonds can't be broken. Surely you understand that."

Elara cried her heart out, all while Genevieve watched her steal glances at Eleanor, gauging her reaction.

She saw Eleanor's fury reach its peak, her knuckles white as she gripped her cane.

Seeing this, Elara seemed satisfied. She lowered her gaze, and Genevieve caught the faint, cruel smirk that crossed her lips before she feigned a complete collapse, swooning dramatically into her mother's arms.

The heavy cane slammed down onto Genevieve's back.

Genevieve had no time to dodge. The blow landed with full force, sending her lurching forward.

No one moved to help her. They just watched coldly as her forehead crashed against the sharp edge of an armchair. The impact split her skin, and blood streamed down her face. Genevieve pressed a hand to the gash.

Warm, sticky blood blurred her vision.

"From this day forward, you will resign from the hospital and dedicate your life to caring for Elara," Eleanor declared, her voice ringing with authority. "You will ensure nothing ever goes wrong with her again. You will spend the rest of your life atoning for this!"

The words hit her like another blow. A fresh wave of dizziness washed over her.

"Impossible!" Genevieve pressed her hand harder against the wound, her voice resolute despite the pain. "I've trained in medicine since I was a child. I will not give up my career for anyone. I did everything I could for Elara's baby. This tragedy had nothing to do with me. I never gave her any medication that wasn't safe!"

"Insolent fool!" Eleanor's cane came down again, this time striking Genevieve's shoulder. "Julian! Look at this woman you married!

Defying her elders, harming her own family... What a vicious woman you've brought into our home!"

Genevieve wanted to scream that she had done nothing wrong. But before she could open her mouth, Julian's ice-cold voice cut through the room from behind her. "Either you resign and spend the rest of your life caring for Elara... or we get a divorce."

"Julian?"

Genevieve froze.

Deep down, she had always known he would never take her side.

But she had clung to the belief that he was, at his core, a fair man. That he wouldn't condemn her based on Elara's story alone, without even a shred of investigation.

Now, it seemed even that sliver of hope was a luxury she couldn't afford.

Genevieve lowered her head, a bitter, self-mocking smile twisting her lips.

This was the man she had poured all her passion into, hoping to melt his cold heart. The man she had married, even against her own father's wishes.

Three years.

Three long years.

She knew he still loved Elara. She knew they had been childhood sweethearts. But Elara had married his cousin, and Genevieve had foolishly believed that if she just loved him enough, one day he would finally begin to value her.

So, when Julian had proposed marriage on the sole condition that she look after the ailing Elara, she had accepted.

She never imagined that three years later, he could say the word "divorce" so easily, with such carelessness.

Genevieve lifted her gaze to Julian, who stood across from her like an opponent in a battle she had already lost.

His eyes were cold and merciless, his handsome face a mask of indifference. He looked at her with the same detached chill he'd had three years ago, as if she were a complete stranger.

She had been so naive.

If someone doesn't love you, nothing you do will ever change that.

"Genevieve! Did you hear him? Resign, or get a divorce!" Eleanor glared at her, a malicious sneer plastered across her face.

"I've already told you," Genevieve said, slowly straightening her back, a newfound clarity in her eyes. "I did everything in my power for the patient. If you doubt my treatment, you can request an investigation by the hospital's Medical Review Board. I will not be giving up my career."

The words had barely left her mouth.

Eleanor slammed her palm on the table, jabbed a finger toward Genevieve's face, and snarled, "You did everything you could?!"

"Ha!"

"You have the nerve to bring up a review board? Do you think I don't know you've all conspired together at that hospital? Elara told me everything! You've been tormenting our little princess, and now you think you can cover your tracks!"

"Fine! If you refuse to repent, then so be it! Arthur! Lock her in the storage room! She can stay there until she comes to her senses!"

"And since she is so stubborn, she gets no food! Just enough water to keep her from dying!"

A wave of disbelief washed over Genevieve. In this day and age, in a society governed by law, they were actually talking about locking her in a dark room and starving her.

She didn't argue. Instead, her eyes went to Julian.

She had to admit, she was foolish and stubborn enough to need one last confirmation of where he stood.

But all she saw was his cold, unwavering stare. "Come talk to me when you've thought it through," he said, his voice flat. "You will take full responsibility for what happened to Elara."

"Julian, why are you even wasting your breath on her? Just throw her in there and starve her for three days. We'll see how stubborn she is then!" Ivy had always hated Genevieve, convinced she had trapped Julian into this marriage. From the day Genevieve had joined the Everett family, Ivy had made her life hell.

Genevieve didn't look at Ivy. She didn't care what any of them thought. From the very beginning, only Julian's opinion had ever mattered.

She stared straight at him. "Julian, I never intended to harm Elara. I am a doctor. I would never administer the wrong treatment. You've always prided yourself on being rational. Can't you at least be fair to me?"

Genevieve looked at him, her gaze earnest.

She wasn't asking for his favor. She was only asking for fairness.

For him to investigate the matter properly and give her the explanation she deserved.

That was all.

But in the end, all she received was his silence.

Arthur grabbed her arm and hauled her toward the storage room.

The heavy door swung shut, and through the narrowing gap, she watched Julian's face disappear inch by inch.

A flicker of panic seized her, but his eyes were filled with nothing but frost. Not a single trace of warmth remained for her.

The step she had been about to take faltered, stopped dead by that dark, chilling gaze. A vast emptiness hollowed out her chest as she stood there, helpless, watching his face vanish completely.

She didn't know how long she was in that pitch-black room.

All she knew was the damp chill of the floor beneath her fingertips.

The air was thick with a cold, menacing dread.

Soft, furry things skittered past her skin, their faint squeaks sending shivers down her spine.

Her initial sorrow gave way to numbness. Finally, she just sat collapsed on the cold floor, the love that had once burned so brightly extinguishing with every silent, passing moment.

In that lightless space, she lost all sense of time.

Finally, a heavy door creaked open, and a harsh blade of sunlight stabbed into the darkness.

Julian stood silhouetted in the light. "Ready to admit you were wrong?" he asked coldly.

His unspoken words hung in the air. If she was, she should go to the hospital and take care of Elara.

That last, tiny ember of affection she'd held for him was snuffed out.

But still, a part of her refused to give up. She couldn't tell if she was reluctant to let go of three years of effort, or just reluctant to let go of him.

"I did my best to treat Elara, and I am certain I did nothing wrong. If you can, just give me some time. I will go to the hospital and find the truth. I will give you a satisfactory answer. Can you at least grant me that?"

Genevieve lifted her head, making one last attempt to salvage what was left of their marriage.

"Give you time? You mean, give you time to cover up the truth?" The mockery in his eyes was a physical blow.

She had known this would be his answer, but it still shattered her.

Using her knees for support, she staggered to her feet, her body shrouded in the room's shadows. Stubbornly, she forced herself to ask one last question. "Julian... in these three years, was there ever a single moment... when you liked me? Even a little?"

Julian froze for a second before a dry laugh escaped his lips. The sheer ridicule in that sound was all the answer she needed.

That laugh struck her like a slap, a brutal reminder of her own foolishness.

"Oh. So you never did," she murmured, her face ashen. "Fine. I was a fool for ever thinking you could."

"Then..." A bleak, desolate smile touched her lips. "Let's get a divorce."

Julian's expression froze. His brow furrowed as he stared at her, his eyes cold and sharp.

He had been certain that a night in this room would break her. That she would compromise, fall in line, and resign from her position, just as she always had.

He never, ever expected to hear the word "divorce" from her.

Unbelievable. She was still so stubborn.

Genevieve watched the shock on his face and let out a soft, self-deprecating laugh.

She had always been so obedient. No wonder he looked so stunned now that she had finally found her spine.

She took a deep breath, and while he was still reeling, she said it again, her voice clear and firm. "Julian, we're getting a divorce."

With that, Genevieve lifted her foot and stepped over the threshold.

She walked slowly. The low-grade fever from the day before had worsened in the damp chill, and her back ached from the cane strikes. She could almost still feel the phantom sensation of tiny creatures crawling over her skin.

But even so, her steps did not waver.

She was leaving this place. Leaving the Everett family. And leaving the marriage she had once believed would last a lifetime.

Genevieve left the Everett estate without a single bag.

Behind her, the household staff were already muttering.

"Hmph. Says she wants a divorce, but she didn't even take her things? She's just playing hard to get. If she's going to put on a show, at least make it look convincing."

"Exactly. Acting all high and mighty, but she only married Julian for his money. I heard they haven't even slept together this whole time."

"Good. A scheming woman like her doesn't deserve Julian. But I bet you anything she won't actually go through with the divorce."

"I don't think she will either. Head of OB-GYN-how much can a job like that possibly pay? It's all for show. She'll end up quitting her job and coming back to look after Elara."

"All talk.

Let's see if she actually does it."

Their jeers grew fainter as she walked away. The words faded behind her, dissolving into the cool morning air.

She felt terrible. The prolonged fever had left her weak, her body aching.

After years as a doctor, she knew her body had reached its absolute limit.

She waited for a taxi, swaying on her feet as she struggled to stay upright.

Without warning, a sudden gust of cold air hit her as a black car sped past, its side mirror nearly clipping her shoulder.

She stumbled back, a moment too late. As she looked up, she caught a glimpse of Julian's sharp profile through the tinted window.

The window slid shut, blocking her view.

After a stunned pause, a bitter, heartbroken smile touched her lips.

Three years of devotion, and he treated her like an enemy. What a fool she'd been.

As the car turned the corner, the driver glanced in the rearview mirror at the woman swaying in the distance. "Mr. Everett, your wife doesn't look well. If she collapses in front of the gate, it could make for some ugly headlines."

Julian's eyes, which had been closed, slowly opened. His gaze was like ice. "She's the reason Elara lost her baby. Death would be too good for her."

Out of Julian's sight, a sly smile crept onto the driver's face. Then, in a steady voice, he answered, "Yes, sir."

The next moment, the car merged into traffic.

Under the blazing sun, Genevieve swayed, dehydrated, her lips cracked and dry.

She fought to stay conscious, shaking her head, but the dizziness only worsened, and she stumbled.

Her heart hammered against her ribs. She clutched her chest, gasping for air.

When she looked up, the world spun violently.

In that instant, her body felt strangely light, like a dead leaf drifting from a nearby tree. Through her blurring vision, she saw a man's sharp, stern face.

Something familiar.

She tried to force her eyes open, but she was too exhausted. As her eyes closed, she heard a voice call out, "Genevieve!"

Chloe Walsh, Genevieve's student, got the call and rushed to the hospital. By the time she arrived, Genevieve was already unconscious.

Her face was deathly pale.

She was shivering uncontrollably, her forehead slick with sweat. She looked as if she were at death's door.

Her colleagues from the OB-GYN department gathered around.

Alistair Finch, the hospital director, took one look at Genevieve lying lifeless on the bed, his voice a mixture of anguish and anger. "She donated all that blood, kept working through surgeries, and when she got sick, she had to take a taxi by herself and collapsed at our front door! The Everetts have gone too far!"

Jessica Vance, the head nurse, was practically vibrating with rage. She pointed toward Elara's hospital room and seethed, "Do the Everetts have no shame?! How can they torment our department head like this, just because they're rich?"

Her coworkers wheeled her into the ward, their faces tight with outrage.

Genevieve's fever raged through the night. When she finally woke, weak and drained, she leaned heavily against the headboard.

She stared blankly ahead. The events of the previous day replayed vividly in her mind.

Her eyes reddened at the memories. Three years of her youth, wasted. The man who had once been like an older brother to her, a source of warmth on so many lonely nights, was now the one causing her the most pain.

She drew her knees up, wrapped her arms around them, and wept silently.

She had believed love would be returned with love.

She had believed that if she tried hard enough, was obedient enough, even the iciest heart would melt.

Such a naive way of thinking. It had nearly destroyed her.

No wonder everyone called her foolish. She realized now that "foolish" didn't even begin to cover it.

When she woke again, daylight was breaking outside.

Her clothes were soaked in a cold, uncomfortable sweat. She changed, and just then, Chloe came in with some of her colleagues from the department.

Chloe was carrying a warm breakfast.

"Genevieve! You're awake." Chloe pressed a hand to her chest, exhaling loudly. "You scared the hell out of me! I thought I was going to lose you!"

Genevieve found that a bit dramatic but gave a faint smile. "I'm fine."

Laura Sutton, another OB-GYN, said with fierce loyalty, "Dr. Beaumont, just rest. We'll rotate to cover all your patients. Don't worry about a thing-we've got your back." Ever since Genevieve joined Gracehaven Medical Center, the cardiac surgery department's performance had shot up. Then, because Elara became pregnant, Genevieve had transferred to become head of OB-GYN.

When she first arrived as an outsider to head the department, no one was happy about it, especially the senior staffers.

But it only took a few of her surgeries to win them over completely. Under Genevieve's leadership, the OB-GYN department at Gracehaven became one of the best back home within months, with a surgical success rate of ninety-nine percent.

Everyone held her in deep respect.

After Laura spoke, the other coworkers nodded in agreement.

Genevieve nodded and sent them all back to their posts, then turned to Chloe at her bedside.

"Where's my phone?" Chloe immediately looked wary.

"Oh, no. Don't tell me you're going to call Julian again. You're not going to go running back to him just so he can give you the cold shoulder, are you?"

Chloe had seen Julian's car speed past Genevieve, and it had taken everything in her not to scream.

Knowing how Genevieve hated hearing anyone speak ill of Julian, Chloe grumbled, "If you're going to go crawling back, at least wait until you're healthy. How else are you supposed to be his walking, talking rare-blood bank?"

A walking rare-blood bank.

Genevieve gave another pained, resigned smile.

She had to admit, the description wasn't entirely wrong.

"No, I just want to check the news online."

Knowing Elara, the moment she lost the baby, she would milk it for every drop of sympathy.

Then she'd cry crocodile tears to the Everetts, blaming Genevieve for being irresponsible.

And since Elara had accused her of tampering with the medication yesterday, there was no way she'd stop at just telling the Everetts.

She remembered how sweetly Elara used to call her "dear Genevieve." Who knew she'd been setting this trap all along?

She'd played the part of a wolf in sheep's clothing for three years, letting Genevieve wait on her hand and foot. And the moment she was finally healthy, she pulled a stunt like this.

The flood of messages on her phone confirmed Genevieve's suspicions. "What's the point of looking?" Chloe said, exasperated.

"I told you a long time ago, Elara is bad. She's a master manipulator. You're too straightforward-you never stood a chance. You kept saying she was kind-hearted.

Well, look now-the internet is calling you vicious and scheming! And Julian is a complete idiot! Some CEO. If that's all it takes to run a company, then anyone could do it!"

Genevieve said nothing, just stared down at her phone.

The flood of news didn't mention Julian or the Everett family. Every article targeted her and Gracehaven Medical Center.

For a doctor, reputation was everything.

Genevieve could live with her own name being smeared, but not Gracehaven's.

It was a cunning, vicious move, aimed at cutting her off at the roots.

What Elara didn't seem to understand was that the same medical knowledge Genevieve used to save her could just as easily be used to ensure her condition became fatal. Besides, congenital heart disease didn't just disappear because she felt fine.

It required careful, long-term management. So there were still people who died from heart disease for a reason.

Genevieve found her own devotion ridiculous, but she found Elara's ignorant smugness even more laughable.

Chloe, standing nearby, felt a chill run down her spine at that smile. "G-Genevieve? What... what's going on with you?

It's okay if you're in shock. We can get back at them later. But that smile... you're scaring me a little.

Okay, okay, I take it back, just don't be mad. I'll stop calling Julian a jerk, and I won't call Elara a wolf in sheep's clothing anymore, alright?"

Genevieve looked up and saw Chloe's cautious expression, realizing her own past defensiveness about Julian had given Chloe the wrong idea.

Her throat was dry, and every sound was a painful scrape. Still, she spoke slowly and deliberately. "Actually... I think you might be right."

She finished her water, set the cup down, and lay back down to rest.

She left Chloe staring as if she'd been struck by lightning, her face a mask of shock. Chloe stood there, stunned. Genevieve?

Had she really just said that?

Had she just... had a complete change of heart?

She'd insulted Julian, and Genevieve had actually agreed with her?

Chloe darted to the window and looked out.

Yep, the sun had still risen in the east.