My Career and Love Life Flourished after a Divorce

On the third day after my unexpected miscarriage, my husband, George Wood, brought home my stepsister, Savannah Ahmed. She was eight months pregnant.

My stepmother, Julia Ahmed, said, "The Food family needs a child to continue the family legacy."

My father added, "Clara, you must learn tolerance."

When Savannah had an accident, George dragged me to the hospital and said, "We must save Savannah, even if we have to drain every last drop of Clara's blood. Clara, you should feel honored that you are still useful." George's cold words pierced through my heart. "You may leave now."

I lay alone in the hospital corridor, waiting to die, but no one knew that I had already made a deal with George's most formidable rival, who was like a devil from hell.

...

"Savannah is pregnant with my baby," George said, holding Savannah's hand.

His voice was emotionless, yet it stabbed into my heart like an icy dagger.

A week ago, I lay on the operating table, and the doctor said in a regretful voice, "I'm sorry, Mrs. Wood. Due to excessive bleeding from the accidental miscarriage, your uterus is severely damaged. It will be difficult for you to conceive again in the future." His words were still echoing in my ears.

I cried until I fainted. George held my hand tightly and said in an extremely gentle voice, "Clara, it doesn't matter. Whether you give birth to a baby or not, you will always be my only wife. I love you."

But now, he stood before my father and Julia and announced his "good news" with Savannah.

Julia immediately let out an exaggerated cheer. She rushed to Savannah and gently caressed her swollen belly. "You're amazing, Savannah. You are truly a credit to our family."

She turned to me with a fake smile, but her eyes were full of provocation. "You won't mind, will you, Clara?" After all, George is the only heir of the Wood family. He needs a child."

I felt a chill run through my body and looked at George in disbelief. "George, you must be joking. Right..."

"I'm not." George interrupted me. He took out a document from his suit pocket and tossed it on the coffee table. "This is the paternity test report. Savannah is carrying my baby."

As the papers scattered, my vision blurred.

Savannah was thirty-two weeks pregnant. It was eight months ago...

It turned out that he had an affair with Savannah for so long.

Those late-night "overtime" sessions and those sudden "business trips" were likely all lies.

George said with a hint of condescension, "Once the baby is born, I will announce it as yours, just as I promised before. No one will replace your position. Clara, you'll be Mrs. Wood forever. George's tone shifted, and his gaze turned sharp as he said, "But as compensation, you must transfer all your research results and patents to Savannah."

Julia immediately chimed in, her voice rising with excitement, "That's right, Clara. How much George cares for you! This way, you won't have to endure the hardships of pregnancy and can still maintain your position. And Savannah can achieve her dream of interning at the pharmaceutical research institute. You should agree."

I looked at my father. He sat on the sofa and sipped his coffee slowly. "Clara, you need to learn tolerance. Don't be so selfish."

Looking at the false faces, I felt trapped. Julia's greed, my father's indifference, and George's betrayal seemed to enclose me like an impenetrable net. I was suffocated.

My research results were the fruit of countless sleepless nights and immense effort, but they wanted to take them away just like that.

"No. I don't agree."

Everyone's faces darkened instantly.

"Clara, you're too selfish." Julia scolded me.

My father frowned and said sternly, "You ungrateful thing. Are you going to ruin the entire family over something so trivial?"

"I'm sorry, but it's all my fault. Please don't be angry." Savannah started her act again. She was really good at feigning kindness and fragility. "I'll leave once the baby is born, Clara. Please, don't fight. I bought these roses at the flower shop on my way here. I remember they're your favorite. I hope you can forgive me."

Savannah had seen my medical report and knew well that I was allergic to pollen.

I avoided the flowers she handed over and snapped, "Stay away!"

As I raised my hand, Savannah seemed to be pushed hard, falling heavily to the floor.

"Ah-" "Savannah!" Julia screamed and rushed over to hold Savannah. She then glared at me viciously and said, "Clara, why did you push Savannah? She's pregnant."

"I didn't..." Before I finished my words, my throat seized up in spasms, and my asthma was about to flare.

"You're still denying it." My father was trembling with anger.

"Take the flowers away!" I kicked the roses that had fallen on the floor, trying to move them away from me.

But my action only ignited their fury.

My father picked up the bouquet and threw it at my face. "You've gone too far, Clara."

George's face was livid. "Get down on your knees and apologize to Savannah."

"No! Help me! I..."

They all knew I was severely allergic to pollen.

"She's acting again," my father said coldly.

"Forget about her. Get Savannah to the hospital now. She doesn't look well," Julia said anxiously.

Savannah clutched George's shirt and asked in a trembling voice, "Will the baby be okay? George, I'm so scared."

"Don't worry. We'll be at the hospital soon."

They escorted Savannah away, and none of them looked back at me.

I collapsed on the floor, and my lungs squeezed to the limit.

Driven by a powerful survival instinct, I struggled to crawl toward my phone, dialed that number, and managed to utter a cry for help with the last of my strength. "Please... help me!"

The sharp scent of disinfectant stung my nose, and I slowly opened my eyes. The fluorescent lights from the ceiling were so bright that it was hard for me to open my eyes.

A guy sat on the sofa. His black suit accentuated a cold, aloof demeanor. His deep-set eyes projected a commanding, powerful aura.

"You're awake," he said. His voice was deep and magnetic. "I'm Andre Marsh.

I knew the name. A week ago, he came to see me. He offered me a job in the national research center and intended to purchase my research patents.

"I received your call and reached your home within ten minutes." Andre's gaze fell on my pale face. "You were lying on the floor unconsciously. Where is your family?"

I managed a bitter smile.

They must be gathering around Savannah's hospital bed and offering comfort and care. How could they remember me after they left me behind and nearly suffocated?

"Mr. Marsh," I asked in a hoarse voice, "does your previous offer still stand?"

Andre straightened and became serious. "Have you made your decision?"

"Yes." I nodded solemnly. "I'm ready to give all my patents to the nation and join the national research institute to contribute to the medical field."

My words seemed to break the icy aura surrounding Andre. His stern face softened into a faint smile.

He stood up and gave me a respectful salute. "On behalf of the national government and all the soldiers on the front line who need medical support, I thank you for your generosity and dedication."

He took out his phone and quickly tapped a few buttons. "I'll expedite the paperwork immediately. But I must remind you that it is a highly confidential government project. After signing the confidentiality agreement, you'll need to work at a military base for three years. You can't contact others during that period. I'll send someone to pick you up a week later." Then he added, "During this week, you'd better say goodbye to your family."

I shook my head. I didn't tell Andre that I no longer had any family.

After Andre left, I leaned against the headboard to rest.

The aftermath of the asthma attack lingered. I felt tightness in my chest. Even slight movements left me breathless.

Just as I was about to sit up for a sip of water, the hospital room door burst open with a loud crash.

George stormed in, and his eyes were filled with rage.

He grabbed my wrist and yanked me off the bed.

My knee slammed into the cold tile floor with a dull thud, as I had never expected that. I shivered in pain instantly.

"George, what are you doing?" I shouted, and my voice was warping with pain as I struggled to get up.

George squeezed my throat, and his eyes became fierce. "You've caused Savannah to hemorrhage severely. She has Rh-negative blood, and the hospital blood bank is running critically low. You are the only one who can save her."

"No, I can't..." I protested.

I had just suffered a miscarriage and an asthma attack. I couldn't be a blood donor at all.

But he ignored my pleas and dragged me to the operating room. "Doctor, take her blood."

I fought desperately, but the two bodyguards George had brought restrained my arms and legs. They forced me onto the hospital bed.

My blood flowed through the transfusion tube, and I felt dizzy and broke into a cold sweat. I even had bouts of nausea.

The doctor quickly halted the procedure and said to George. "Mr. Wood, Clara's condition is too frail. 400cc is her limit..."

"Stop talking." Georg gripped my throat tightly and almost suffocated me. "She knocked Savannah over. This is her penance. Take as much as needed to save Savannah and my baby."

The doctor's face turned pale, but he continued under duress.

The machine connected to me suddenly emitted a piercing alarm.

"The blood pressure is dropping steadily. The heart rate is unstable," the doctor shouted, frantically trying to save me.

The overwhelming dizziness from blood loss hit me. I looked at George's cold face and asked with my last ounce of strength, "George, are you really willing to kill me for Savannah?"

"You pushed her earlier." George's eyes showed no remorse. "You must face the consequences of your actions. It's only fair, Clara."

He was talking about being fair.

But was it truly fair? Was it really my fault?

The room began to spin, and darkness engulfed my consciousness.

The doctor shouted urgently, "She's fading. Stop the blood draw immediately..."

"Continue!" George said coldly.

That was the last sound I heard before I slipped into unconsciousness.

I didn't know how long I was unconscious, but when I woke again, I was back in my previous hospital room.

A nurse was adjusting the IV flow. Seeing me awake, she smiled gently and said, "Thank goodness you're finally awake. You're out of danger now. Don't worry."

I forced a weak smile and managed to say, "Thank you."

Once the nurse left, the room returned to silence.

My phone on the bedside table buzzed with a new message. I turned it on to find a message from Andre. "All procedures are complete. The confidentiality agreement and the military base access application have been sent to your email. It can be activated if you reply to confirm it."

I opened my email and found the prepared documents. Without hesitation, I replied to the email.

"I confirm it."

In a week, I would be saying goodbye to those people.

I would leave that place that had brought me so much pain and be away from those who had hurt me deeply. I would start a new life.

"Stay optimistic and don't get too pessimistic." The doctor repeatedly advised as he scrutinized my test results.

I nodded in agreement, but my heart felt desolate. How could I not be pessimistic with such a family?

On the day I was discharged, I went to collect my final check-up report. Just as I reached the ultrasound room's entrance, I heard a familiar voice inside.

Savannah nestled in George's arms and gently traced her fingers over her rounded belly. She said gently, "Baby, you must be good, and don't worry about Mommy and Daddy."

George gazed down at her, and his eyes were overflowing with tenderness. "I'll make sure to take good care of you and the baby."

I stood at the doorway and felt like an unwelcome intruder.

Savannah noticed me and immediately displayed a look of "surprise" as she slowly approached me with her belly bulging.

George followed closely behind.

Savannah gave me a conciliatory smile and said, "Clara, "I heard everything from George. Thank you for donating blood to save the baby and me. Without you, we would have been in danger."

I let out a cold laugh and said, "Don't say that. I didn't do it voluntarily."

Savannah was stunned. Her eyes became slightly red as she lowered her head in distress.

George instantly frowned and glared at me with icy eyes. "Clara, you are bullying Savannah again. Can't you be less harsh?"

"George, don't say that." Savannah tugged at his sleeve and said softly, "Clara was just discharged from the hospital. She hasn't fully recovered, and it's reasonable that she's not in a good mood. Let's go and let her stay quiet."

As she passed by me, she suddenly leaned in close and whispered provocatively, "Clara, I'll take good care of George for you."

I watched them walk away together and gripped my test report so tightly that my knuckles turned pale.

Back home, my father, Charles Ahmed, showed no concern for me. Instead, he coldly furrowed his eyebrows and warned me. "If you don't want to be kicked out of the family, stay away from Savannah."

I stared at him, and my heart felt broken. "Dad, I'm your daughter. Why do you only have eyes for Savannah and never care for me?"

Charles's expression twisted into a snarl. "Shut up. Savannah is my only daughter. When I was diagnosed with kidney failure, Savannah generously donated one of her kidneys to save my life. And you, Clara, you ran away. You left me to die in the hospital."

I was stunned, and my mind went blank.

How could that be?

It was I who donated the kidney back then.

After the surgery, I still bear a long, ugly scar on my waist.

I never mentioned it all these years because I didn't want my father to feel indebted to me.

"That's not true, Dad." I hurriedly explained. "I was the one who donated the kidney..."

"Shut up!" My father interrupted me harshly, and his eyes were filled with fury. "You're stealing Savannah's credit again. You've been jealous of Savannah since you were little. You always snatch her things and blame her for everything. How did I have such a malicious daughter like you?" He advanced towards me, and his tone was icy and piercing. "I wish it were you who died back then. You're nothing but a shame to me."

My blood froze instantly as I stood there, watching him storm off in anger.

Tears filled my eyes. How could my father disgust me like that? Was I really so bad?

That was not true. They were blinded by falsehood. It was not my fault.

I wiped away my tears and walked resolutely back to my room.

I gathered everything related to George, including the matching shirts, the photos, the gifts he had given me, and the memorabilia.

Holding those things, I went to the yard and found a metal barrel to set them ablaze.

The flames leapt up, consuming those once sweet memories. The smoke stung my eyes with tears, yet I felt relieved.

Just then, George's car screeched to a halt at the yard's entrance.

He pushed open the car door, and his face turned livid at the sight of the fire.

He strode towards me and shouted angrily, "Clara, what on earth are you doing?"