SUPER DOCTOR REVENGE

The rain over the city of Bacca did not just fall; it judged. It washed over the shimmering neon glass of the skyscrapers downtown, but here, in the sprawling courtyard of the Vance family villa, it only seemed to highlight the mud clinging to Calvin Hudson’s knees.

Calvin gripped the coarse bristle brush in his right hand, his knuckles white, his breath hitching as the icy water soaked through his cheap, threadbare fabric shirt. He was scrubbing the grand marble steps of the entrance. It was a task meant for a pressure washer, or at least a hired maid, but Victoria Vance—his mother-in-law—had deemed it a fitting chore for the "family dog."

"Faster, Calvin! If I see a single spec of dirt when the guests arrive, you won’t even get the scraps from the kitchen tonight," a sharp, aristocratic voice barked from above.

Calvin did not look up. He kept his eyes glued to the marble, wiping a mixture of rainwater and sweat from his forehead. "Yes, Mother. I will finish it before the banquet begins."

"Don't call me Mother, you penniless leach," Victoria spat, her heels clicking sharply against the dry stone of the sheltered porch. She deliberately tipped her porcelain teacup forward, sending a splash of dark, scalding Earl Grey tea directly onto the patch of marble Calvin had just cleaned, splattering across his bruised hands. "Oh, my hand slipped. Clean it again."

Calvin’s jaw tightened so hard his teeth clicked. Three years ago, the name Hudson meant something in Bacca. The Hudsons were a family of renowned battlefield doctors and war heroes who had sacrificed everything to protect the city during the great border conflicts. But when the war ended, his father vanished, his mother succumbed to grief and illness, and the family estate was systematically carved up by war-profiteering conglomerates.

Now, he was a matrilocal son-in-law. A man who had traded his pride, his name, and his soul into a contract marriage with the newly rich Vance family for one singular, desperate reason: his younger sister’s life.

An hour later, shivering and drenched, Calvin slipped through the back service door of the villa and checked his cheap, cracked smartphone. A notification flashed on the screen, causing his heart to plummet.

Bacca Central Hospital: URGENT. Outstanding balance for Patient Elara Hudson: $50,000. Failure to clear the balance by midnight will result in the immediate termination of life support systems.

Fifty thousand dollars. It was a fortune to a man who wasn't even allowed to hold his own wallet. According to their contract marriage agreement, the Vance family was obligated to pay Elara’s weekly medical bills in exchange for Calvin acting as a domestic servant and a legal shield for Tiffany Vance’s public reputation.

Desperation clawing at his throat, Calvin hurried toward the second-floor master bedroom. He didn't even knock before pushing the door open.

"Tiffany, please, I need—"

The words died in Calvin’s throat.

The spacious, luxury bedroom smelled of expensive French perfume and a heavy, unfamiliar musk. Tiffany Vance, his contract wife, was sitting on the edge of the plush king-sized bed. Her long legs were crossed, clad in a silk robe, but she wasn't alone. Standing behind her, adjusting his designer tie in the mirror, was a tall, arrogant man with slicked-back hair.

Julian Sterling. The billionaire heir to Sterling Pharmaceuticals, and Calvin’s bitter rival from their days at the medical academy.

"Calvin?" Tiffany frowned, her beautiful, cold eyes narrowing in immediate disgust as she looked at his dripping, muddy clothes. "Who gave you permission to enter my room looking like a drowned rat? You’re ruining the Italian rug."

Calvin stared at Julian, his fists clenching until his nails drew blood from his palms. "Tiffany... what is he doing here? This is our house."

Julian turned around, a slow, predatory smirk spreading across his face. He walked over and casually rested a hand on Tiffany’s bare shoulder. She didn't flinch; instead, she leaned into his touch.

"Your house, Hudson?" Julian chuckled, his voice dripping with condescension. "Look around you. Every brick of this villa, every thread of the clothes on your back, belongs to the Vance family. And as of tonight, Tiffany belongs to someone who can actually handle a woman of her stature."

Calvin ignored Julian, his eyes locking onto his wife. "Tiffany, the hospital sent a notice. They're going to shut off Elara's life support by midnight. You promised me this month's allocation. Please, just sign the release voucher. I'll do anything. I'll clean the whole estate by myself, I'll take any abuse, just save my sister!"

Tiffany let out a sigh of pure boredom. She reached into her vanity drawer and pulled out a thick, leather-bound folder, tossing it carelessly at Calvin’s feet. It landed in a puddle of water dripping from his coat.

"Sign it," Tiffany said coldly.

Calvin looked down. Stamped in bold, red ink across the front page were the words: DECREE OF ABSOLUTE DIVORCE.

"Our contract is over, Calvin," Tiffany declared, her voice devoid of any human warmth. "The Vance family has officially merged our supply lines with Sterling Pharmaceuticals. You are no longer of any use to us. In fact, your very presence as a 'husband' is an embarrassment to my social standing."

"But... what about Elara?" Calvin’s voice cracked, his knees giving out as he collapsed onto the floor, clutching the divorce papers. "We had a deal! You promised she would be taken care of!"

Julian stepped forward, kicking the folder out of Calvin’s hands with his polished leather shoe. "The hospital wing she is staying in? My family just bought it this afternoon, Hudson. And I have already personally signed the order to clear out the freeloaders."

Julian leaned down, his eyes gleaming with malicious satisfaction. "By midnight, your pathetic little sister will be dead. And there isn't a single thing a dog like you can do to stop it."