THE RETURN OF THE BROKEN HUSBAND

CHAPTER 9: HELL ON EARTH

The moment he made that ultimate decision, his gaze dropped to his legs, an agonizing pain seeping deep into his mind. A series of thoughts raced through his head—he couldn’t believe a petty physical altercation with Robert had resulted in a devastating attack that stripped him of his ability to walk. And even if he eventually manages to exact revenge he wanted, it would never restore his mobility.

Everything still felt like a nightmare. Just several hours ago, he could walk anywhere on his own two feet. Now, after that terrible hitman strike, he was trapped in a wheelchair.

If anyone else were in Gregory’s situation, they would have given up. He wasn’t just broken by the accident, but by the crushing realization that he had wasted years of his life loving a child who wasn’t his and remaining devoted to a marriage built entirely on vanity and lies. If he had lost his life on the spot, he would have died believing he at least had a loving daughter who would carry on his name.

The weight of every realization crashed over Gregory all at once, sending his heart shattering into a million pieces. It hurt so badly.

“What a cruel world,” he mumbled to himself, shaking his head bitterly in the quiet hospital room.

On the other side of the city, Isabella arrived at her private executive office, anticipating the arrival of the three attorneys she had summoned. She had insisted on meeting them in person to map out the upcoming legal war against Robert Carnegie and Alice.

It didn’t take long before a sharp, repeated knock thudded against her office door.

Isabella lifted her head from her computer screen. “Come in!”

The heavy door slowly swung open.

Stepping gracefully inside was Adrian Smith, clad in an immaculate navy suit. Behind him walked Julian Vance, a ruthless tactical litigator, and Eleanor Hayes, an elite specialist in asset tracing and criminal evidence.

Adrian approached Isabella with a respectful bow. “It is nice to meet you again, Miss Madison.”

Isabella motioned for them to take the leather armchairs opposite her desk.

Among the three, Adrian Smith was the attorney Isabella worked with most. His name was more than just a label—it was a formidable brand in the legal industry. He had earned his reputation as a legend in corporate litigation, feared by the city's powerful elite in court.

Yet, everyone in the room shared one crucial bond: they all owed an unpayable debt to Isabella.

Three years ago, Adrian had been framed in a massive corporate conspiracy by a rival firm that nearly resulted in his disbarment and imprisonment; Isabella had used her family’s political clout to unveil the truth, clearing his name and saving his rising career.

Julian Vance owed her an even greater personal debt: when he was a struggling public defender, his younger sister fell seriously ill, and Isabella secretly funded the expensive organ transplant that saved her life.

As for Eleanor Hayes, when a powerful criminal syndicate attempted to silence her father over a whistleblowing scandal, Isabella used her family’s influence to provide state protection and dismantled the threat once and for all.

Isabella leaned back in her high-backed chair, her sharp eyes studying the three legal minds.

“I didn’t call you here for a standard consultation,” Isabella said, her voice dripping with quiet authority. “I need your help with a personal matter involving a close friend of mine, Gregory—”

Before Isabella could finish, Adrian cut in smoothly, a sharp look in his eyes. “Our lives and loyalty belong to you, Miss Madison. Just give us the target.”

Julian and Eleanor both nodded in immediate agreement.

“Name your price for taking his case,” Isabella added, testing them. “How much will it take to punish everyone involved?”

Adrian almost smiled, waving his hand dismissively. “Your money is no good here, Miss Madison. We wouldn’t take a single cent from you even if this case dragged on for ten years.”

“I appreciate that,” Isabella said, tapping her keyboard. She pulled up a file on her screen and turned the monitor toward them. “Good, because the man we are going after is Robert Carnegie.”

The air in the room shifted instantly. The Carnegie Syndicate was a giant in the business world, but none of the lawyers flinched.

“Robert ordered a hitman strike on Gregory Watson,” Isabella explained concisely. “He disguised it as a drunk-driving hit-and-run. The local police have already taken the driver into custody under the cover story of driving under the influence. It’s a classic Carnegie cleanup, but it is sloppy.”

Julian leaned forward, his analytical mind already working. “If the cops already have the driver, Robert likely paid off the precinct to keep the charge limited to reckless endangerment or hit-and-run without digging into premeditation.”

“Exactly,” Isabella nodded firmly. “Which is why I need you three to move fast. First, I want you to comb the entire perimeter of the crash site. The local police claim there were no working security cameras, but I want you to check every private storefront, commercial building, and delivery vehicle dashcam near that intersection. There is a blind spot they overlooked.”

Eleanor pulled a tablet from her bag, quickly jotting down notes. “I’ll personally handle the evidence collection and secure every scrap of private CCTV footage before they can erase it.”

“Second,” Isabella continued, turning to Julian, “we need to break the driver in custody. Find out who funded his bank accounts, track the encrypted wire transfers, and trace the money directly back to Robert or his shell companies. We squeeze him until he confesses that it was a hired hit.”

“Consider it done,” Julian said grimly. “I’ll file a motion for an independent investigation and interrogate the driver myself. He won’t hold out long once he realizes Carnegie will let him rot.”

“And finally, Adrian,” Isabella looked at her primary attorney—her strongest asset, knowing that winning a legal battle against the Carnegies wouldn't be easy given their history of manipulating justice. “I want you to draft the most devastating divorce petition possible against Alice Watson. We sever Gregory’s financial liabilities, freeze all joint assets, and strip her of every legal defense she thinks she has.”

Adrian nodded sharply as they concluded their discussion. “I’ll have the papers finalized and served before the sun sets tomorrow.”

Satisfied with the blueprint for war against Robert and Alice, Isabella dismissed the trio and immediately headed back to the hospital, eager to give Gregory some semblance of hope.

When Isabella arrived at the specialized medical wing late that evening, the corridor was eerily quiet. She approached Gregory’s room, but before her hand could reach the door handle, the attending surgeon stepped out and flagged her down.

“Miss Madison,” the surgeon said softly, his face visibly pale. His expression made Isabella’s heart skip a beat. Knowing Gregory’s situation was critical, she asked anxiously, “Is he dead?”

“No, ma’am,” the doctor replied, easing her immediate panic. He motioned for her to step slightly down the hall. “I need to speak with you regarding Mr. Watson’s condition. We just received his latest tissue scans.”

Isabella’s hands dropped to her sides, her heart racing than it already was. “What is it? Did something happen?”

The doctor let out a heavy sigh, adjusting his glasses, unable to meet her gaze directly. “The trauma from the crash was far more severe than we initially calculated. Due to prolonged pressure and severe internal tissue crush in his lower body, an infection has set in rapidly in his left leg.”

Isabella’s breath hitched as the doctor handed her the lab report, with ‘aggressive osteomyelitis and acute tissue necrosis’ printed boldly on the page. It took her a moment to process the medical terms before finding her voice. “What are you saying now?”

“I’m saying that despite our best efforts, the infection has spread toward his bloodstream,” the doctor whispered grimly, delivering the devastating news. “To save his life, Gregory’s left leg will need to be amputated immediately.”

Just inside the hospital room, sitting in his wheelchair right by the door, Gregory froze.

He had wheeled himself over to wait for Isabella, only to overhear the news that made him realize his worst nightmare was far from over.

Amputated.

The word echoed inside his skull like a deafening thunderclap. He wasn’t just paralyzed from the waist down—now they were going to hack off his leg.

Gregory pulled his hands back into his lap, his knuckles turning ghostly white as he stared blankly at his useless limbs.

He wasn’t just broken. He was living through hell on earth, all because of Robert and Alice.