The Surgeon's Revenge: No More Mrs. Montgomery

sually signaled relief, the end of a fourteen-hour shift where she held human lives in her hands. She peeled off the latex gloves with a snap, the sound echoing o

rom the surgical cap. For the last six hours, she had been Dr. Emerson, the rising star of Mount Sinai's cardiothoracic department. But as she untied her mask, l

ed for her phone. The screen lit up with a barrage of notifications. Emails from the hospital adm

from the contact

was about to lock the screen, a news alert banner slid down from the top, demanding at

Touches Down at JFK. The Wolf of

ent kick against her ribs, a physical protest that had nothing to do with cardi

as b

adn't

s in the same city, breathing the same smog-filled air, and she was learn

s, Dr. E

ning against the doorframe, her arms crossed. Susan's eyes flicked from A

ng scrapier than she intended. She flipped the phon

ice to have the king back in the castle. Although, I'm surprised you're still here

phan girl who lucked into the Montgomery dynasty, the placeholder wife who worked playing doctor while her husband conquered the fi

keeping her tone clinically detached. "I don't leave un

her colleague, walking fast enough to create a breeze in the stagnant

onto the wooden bench. Her fingers trembled as she dialed

icemail of Fletcher Mont

t was the voice he used for business partners and un

ain, exhausted, and wearing a scrub top that had a small stain of betadine on the collar. She didn't look like a

d bought off the rack at Macy's three years ago. It was high qu

collar up, tucking her chin down. The line of black town cars waited for the attending physicians

ow taxi. The cab screeched to a hal

ng her through the rearview mirror. He t

e," she said. "

his forehead, but he punched the meter. As the car lurched into traffic, Alexa pressed her

ee months in London and Hong Kong. Three months of silence broke

a man named Henry who had worked there for twenty years, was busy holdin

door open herself. It wasn't until her foot

ng. "Ms. Emerson. I d

new where the lines were drawn. She was the perman

murmured, brushing past

anxiety. She watched the digital numbers cl

se was dark. Not the cozy darkness of a sleeping home, b

ghting. The floor-to-ceiling windows showcased the Manhattan skyl

he saw

p. Louis Vuitton trunks, hard-shell Rimowa cases, all tagged with

d bee

the marble. She reached out and touched the leather hand

od, expensive tobacco, and something sharp and metallic-his cologne. Bu

has already left

the shadows of the dining room archway. Her hands were clasped in fro

ng small in the cavernous room. "He j

terrupted smoothly. "He had a pressing engag

, washed off the travel, and immediately left again

?" Alexa asked. "Shoul

, a tiny, almost imperceptible lift at the corner of her mouth. "

the multi-million dollar apartment, surrounded by the evidence o

ing her back so the woman wouldn't se

aff quarters. Then, she stood alone in the foyer, staring at th