Heartless? Only To Those Who Failed Her

"Ma'am, the situation is critical. The child may not make it. You must reach out to the family immediately for their approval."

The hospital lights glared mercilessly overhead as Hannah Ward forced her eyes open. Pain rippled through her body, and a warm trickle ran down her thighs. Upon hearing the nurse's words, she quickly reached for her phone beneath the sterile cloth and unlocked it, revealing a photo of two people.

Her husband, Ethan Gill, was holding another woman in his arms.

The angle blurred her face, yet the rounded swell of her stomach was impossible to miss.

That single photo had consumed Hannah's thoughts, leaving her so unsettled that she hadn't seen the car until it was too late. The accident was the bitter price of her distraction.

Just then, a nurse rushed in, slightly out of breath. "The CEO of the Gill Group, his girlfriend's unborn child is in critical condition. He's requesting an immediate consultation with you."

A dull roar filled Hannah's ears, and a cold weight pressed down on her chest.

A single, dreadful thought clawed at Hannah - was the man the nurse spoke of truly Ethan?

Had he already fathered a child with another woman?

The lead surgeon hesitated, voice tight. "I'm scheduled for surgery... Switching doctors now would be nearly impossible."

The nurse's reply came in a trembling rush. "But Mr. Gill has made it clear - if his girlfriend's baby isn't saved, he'll hold the entire hospital responsible."

Hannah's pupils constricted.

Her chest tightening with every breath. She fought against the surge of disbelief. Surely Ethan couldn't be this cruel, could he?

With trembling fingers, she dialed his number. The line connected after a moment, only for his voice to cut through, distant and cold. "I'm busy. Call later."

Before Hannah could respond, the call was ended abruptly.

She refused to give up and dialed again, but each attempt was met with silence. Ethan never answered.

Biting her lower lip until she tasted blood, she doubled over as a sharp pain tore through her abdomen, stabbing at her like countless needles.

"Ma'am, have you contacted your family?" the nurse pressed anxiously.

Hannah shook her head, tears slipping down her cheeks, her vision blurring under the sterile lights.

The nurse, at a loss for words, could only press her to decide without delay.

Hannah drew in a shaky breath, her nails biting deep into her palm, yet numbness dulled the sting.

"The child has no father. I will decide." Her voice quivered as she seized the consent form from the nurse's hand and scrawled her name. "Please... save my baby."

The moment the words left her lips, darkness closed in, and she collapsed into unconsciousness.

...

When Hannah opened her eyes again, the world was awash in blinding white.

A deep ache throbbed in her lower abdomen, and before she could stop herself, a whisper escaped her lips. "My child..."

The young nurse at her side lowered her gaze, her voice gentle yet heavy with pity. "I'm sorry."

Hannah's breath hitched.

Her hand flew to her mouth, stifling the scream clawing up her throat. The pounding in her skull, mingled with the raw agony of her battered body, pressed down on her until it felt unbearable, until she thought she might shatter under the weight of it all.

The young nurse offered a perfunctory smile before excusing herself. "Rest well. You'll be discharged in three days."

As the door clicked shut, fragments of conversation drifted in from the corridor.

"Did you see Mr. Gill yesterday? Thank goodness we managed to save his girlfriend's baby. If not, we'd all be out of work. He was terrifying when he lost his temper."

"Of course I saw it. But you have to admit, Mr. Gill really dotes on his girlfriend. He stayed by her side through everything."

"So enviable."

As she heard their words, Hannah's already numbed heart twisted painfully.

Why was it her child who had to die, while the other woman's baby was spared?

The thought hollowed her chest, and grief surged through her in waves so heavy that she struggled to breathe.

The next three days blurred into silence. Hannah remained alone in the stark hospital room, her only company the occasional footsteps of a nurse checking in.

Not once did Ethan call.

Finally, Hannah discharged herself and returned to Bayview Villa.

The moment she stepped inside, she nearly collided with Ethan, who was heading out, a thermos in hand.

A bitter smile curved her lips. "Since when do you, the CEO of Gill Group, handle household chores?"

Ethan's brow furrowed. "You vanish for three days and come back spouting nonsense?"

Her eyes lingered on the thermos, a cold glint flickering in her gaze. "Mr. Gill, I heard you made quite a scene at Gill Hospital, for your girlfriend. Truly remarkable."

Ethan's expression darkened. "You investigated me?"

His hand clamped around her chin, his tone laced with contempt. "Don't forget, you drugged me and shamelessly crawled into my bed just to force me into marrying you. You got what you wanted, so stay home and play the part. My life outside these walls is none of your concern. Push me again, and you'll have only yourself to blame."

A hollow ache welled up in Hannah's chest.

No matter what she said, he would never believe she hadn't orchestrated what happened back then.

She steadied her breathing, forcing back the tremor in her voice, and declared with quiet resolve, "Ethan, I want a divorce."

Ethan's fury ignited, his grip on Hannah's chin tightening until it hurt. His voice dropped, low and venomous. "Divorce? You think you can marry and discard me at your whim? What do you take me for?"

Cold sweat slid down Hannah's back, her body weak and bloodless, yet her gaze never wavered. "Ethan," she forced out, every word trembling with pain, "do you intend to let that child live as an illegitimate forever?"

Her pallor caught his eye, and for a fleeting moment, his hold slackened. His tone shifted, heavy with implication. "No. Grandma has always wanted a grandchild. Once the child is born, it will be acknowledged and registered into the Gill family, as your and my child."

The crack of her hand across his face shattered the silence. Hannah's voice broke, raw with anguish. "Ethan, you despicable man. How dare you disgrace me like this? Do you even know that I just-"

Before she could finish, a shrill ring cut through the air. Ethan didn't spare her a glance. He pulled out his phone and answered, his tone softening in an instant. "Yes. Wait for me. I'll be there soon."

The warmth in his voice was like a blade twisting in Hannah's chest, gentleness he had never once given her.

Her pupils trembled as she bit down on her lip until the taste of blood filled her mouth, forcing back the storm of hurt threatening to consume her.

Ethan ended the call, his cheek still stinging from her slap. His gaze bore into her, cold and unrelenting. "Hannah, divorce is not for you to decide. Don't let me hear that word again. Do you understand?"

He didn't wait for a reply. Turning on his heel, he strode away, leaving Hannah in the hollow silence he left behind.

Hannah slumped against the wall, bitter tears sliding down her cheeks.

Ethan's cruelty knew no bounds.

Her own child had been taken from her, yet he was already preparing to parade another woman's baby under her name, forcing her to accept the humiliation of raising an illegitimate child as the Gill family's heir.

How could he trample her dignity so heartlessly?

Hannah staggered into her room, heart pounding, and began hastily throwing her belongings into a suitcase. Within minutes, she was gone from Bayview Villa.

She couldn't bear to remain in the home she had once poured herself into, not for a second longer.

A cab took her downtown, where she owned a modest apartment, no more than ninety square yards. Yet every inch of it was steeped in memories... memories of her and her stepbrother.

As she stepped inside, Hannah paused by the entrance. Her fingers drifted over a photograph resting on the console, and for a moment, a wistful smile touched her lips.

The man in the photo, his gaze brimming with warmth, looked down at her with eyes so gentle that they seemed to soften the air around him.

Hannah had been just ten years old when her biological father died in a car accident.

A year later, her mother remarried, into the powerful Griffiths family, and brought Hannah with her.

The Griffiths held status in Apruburgh for generations, and to them, Hannah was just a liability left by an insignificant nouveau riche.

She had endured their disdain in silence, weathering subtle jabs and overt cruelty from the moment she arrived.

Only Rhett Griffiths, her stepbrother, had ever stood by her, driving away anyone who tried to bully her.

In the Griffiths household, Rhett was the sole figure who treated her with genuine kindness.

Three months earlier, Rhett had been diagnosed with kidney failure and required a transplant. The entire Griffiths family had undergone compatibility testing, but only Hannah was a match.

She hadn't hesitated. Without a second thought, she had agreed to donate one of her kidneys to him.

Fortunately, the surgery had gone well. Rhett was scheduled to be discharged the next day. The thought warmed her chest. A flicker of happiness stirred in her heart as she made up her mind. Tomorrow, she would go to the hospital to bring him home herself.

...

The next morning, Hannah rose and caught sight of her pale reflection in the mirror.

She reached for her makeup, carefully brushing color onto her skin to hide the exhaustion beneath. Rhett didn't need to see her like this. If he noticed, he would start asking questions. She didn't want to burden him with her troubles.

Once she was ready, Hannah made her way to the hospital.

As she neared the door to Rhett's room, the sound of voices drifted out into the hallway.

"Sylvia, you've done so much for me. I'll definitely marry you. Our engagement will be announced in a few days."

Hannah stopped in her tracks.

The door to the room was slightly ajar.

Inside, Rhett stood tall in a sharply tailored suit, every inch the refined gentleman. There was no hint of illness in his posture or his expression. He looked composed, untouched. In his arms, Sylvia Clarke beamed with effortless charm. Her laughter rang out, soft and sweet, as she leaned into him like she belonged there.

Hannah stared, frozen.

Was he still the same Rhett who had once stood up to her stepfather for her sake, vowing he would never marry and would always protect her? He had taken her kidney, yet here he was, entwined with another woman.

The joy that had flickered in Hannah's heart moments ago vanished completely.

Tears slipped silently down her cheeks. She knew she should leave to spare herself more humiliation, but her feet felt rooted to the floor.

Suddenly, the door creaked open from the inside.

Hannah quickly lowered her head and brushed away her tears, hoping to hide the storm inside.

"Why are you here?" Rhett's eyes flashed with a flicker of impatience.

"Rhett, I-" Hannah's voice trembled, but he cut her off before she could say more.

"This is Sylvia," he said, his tone firm. "When I was gravely ill, she donated her kidney to me. She's going to be part of the Griffiths family."

Pain surged through Hannah as she grasped Rhett's arm, her voice raw and desperate. "No, Rhett. It wasn't her. It was my kidney you received."

Rhett's expression darkened, a shadow of irritation flickering across his face. "Enough with the drama. Apologize to Sylvia."

Hannah released his arm, her voice fragile. "Rhett, do you really doubt me?"

He ran a hand down his sleeve, hesitating before responding.

Sylvia moved closer, resting gently against him. "You've just recovered. Don't let this upset you. Maybe Hannah just doesn't understand the situation well."

Rhett's eyes softened as he glanced at Sylvia. "You're too forgiving, standing up for her like this."

Sylvia smiled softly, nestling into Rhett's embrace.

Rhett shot a cold glance at Hannah, his irritation flaring as he noticed the tear tracks on her cheeks. "I'll let this slide today, Hannah. But next time, don't bring me any more nonsense."

With that, he slipped his arm around Sylvia's waist and walked away.

Hannah stood frozen, her chest aching as if torn apart by invisible blades.

Three years ago, despite her family's protests, she had chosen to marry Ethan. Since then, Rhett had never shown her kindness.

She had hoped that giving him her kidney would mend what was broken between them. Instead, he chose to trust everyone else but her.

The promises he had once whispered lingered in her memory, but it was painfully clear that she had been the only one to hold them as truth.

How foolish she had been.

A dull ache stirred in her stomach, and at last Hannah could bear no more. With weary limbs and a hollow heart, she summoned a cab and let it carry her back to the silence of her apartment.

Later, sprawled across her bed, sleep evaded her. Thoughts tangled and collided, refusing to quiet, until the restlessness itself became unbearable.

With a frustrated groan, Hannah pushed herself upright, raking her fingers through her hair. The irritation still burned, but beneath it all her resolve sharpened. Nothing mattered more now than restoring her health and severing her marriage to Ethan.

With that resolve firm in her chest, Hannah opened her laptop and began searching through every detail of the divorce process. Step by step, she organized what needed to be done, carefully arranging each requirement in order.

In the end, all that remained was a visit to the courthouse. Once the papers were signed and the legalities complete, she and Ethan would be strangers, bound no longer by marriage but only by memory.

She drafted a brief message to Ethan and sent it without hesitation.

At last, with the arrangements set in motion, the tension that had gripped her began to ease. Her body surrendered to the exhaustion she had been fighting, and she drifted into sleep.

Meanwhile, Ethan had already returned to Bayview Villa.

Night had settled over the villa, the household staff already gone to rest. Only a few muted lights glimmered in the halls as Ethan pressed his fingers to his weary brow.

He entered the bedroom and, out of habit, called, "Hannah, draw me a bath."

The stillness that followed was unsettling.

He hesitated, then reached for the switch, flooding the room with light.

The spacious master suite was barren, her presence nowhere to be found. He lifted his phone, intent on dialing her number, only to have the screen flash with an incoming message.

"Ethan, see you at the courthouse tomorrow at 10 a.m. to finalize our divorce."

His brows knit faintly as he read the message.

So impatient already? Was this just another ploy to provoke a reaction? He had witnessed countless women in high society play these same games, and in his eyes, Hannah was no different.

Always scheming, always driven by profit.

They never truly wanted to sever ties; the threat of divorce was nothing more than a lever to bend him to their will.

The thought drew a faint, mocking curve to Ethan's lips.

He dismissed the message outright.

If Hannah was so eager to play this little game, then he would give her the space to simmer in her own defiance.

Yet, as his gaze lingered on the stark emptiness of the bedroom, an unwelcome irritation tightened in his chest. With a sharp motion, he flung the documents in his hand into the trash, then strode out of Bayview Villa without a backward glance.