The Rejected Trillionaire Surgeon

CHAPTER 7

“Where are we going?” Rosey snapped, glaring at the street signs flying past.

“You’ll see, just wait.”

“I swear, Jaxon, if this is one of your sad little attempts to win me back…”

“It’s not.”

Jaxon sat quietly behind the wheel, his hands calm, he could see Rosey from the passenger’s mirror and she was still beautiful, even in her rage.

“What the hell are we doing here?” She asked when they stopped in front of the Grand Saville Hotel.

Jaxon didn’t answer, he just nodded toward the lobby.

She stormed out of the car and marched ahead of him through the wide glass doors. The staff recognized her immediately, after all, she was the governor’s daughter.

“How do you know where..?” she started, then froze. “Why are we here?”

But Jaxon said nothing.

She flung open the door to Room 107 with the swipe of a card, the one Jaxon had conveniently “found” and passed to her in the car.

And there, standing shirtless, his lips grazing the neck of a woman who was clearly not her, was her lover boy, DSS Lewis Brooks.

Rosey’s mouth fell open.

Lydia, the woman in Lewis’s arms gasped and pulled away. She was his nocturnal secretary at Lewis Group of Companies.

A smile formed in Jaxon's lips. Good!

“Rosey!, it's not what it looks like!” Lewis stepped forward in panic.

Rosey didn’t move. She stared, then slowly turned to Jaxon.

“This is what you brought me here for?” she asked flatly.

Jaxon gave a small smile. “I thought you deserved to really know whom you'll be getting married to.”

“You son of a…” Lewis hissed. “You set me up!”

Jaxon said smoothly. “No, you got caught.”

Lydia shamefully grabbed her purse, and like an escaping prisoner, dashed through the door.

“All this time, Lewis? All your sweet words… ‘You deserve better than Jaxon. I’ll protect you. I’m not like him.’ And here you are.”

“Rosey, please,” Lewis stammered. “It was just a moment of weakness, she means nothing.”

Ohh, shut up! Jaxon screamed in his head.

If it comes to drama, leave it for Lewis. The manner he went on all fours, begging Rosey, like a sinner who just missed redemption. Jaxon was enjoying his humiliation.

After several rounds of begging, Rosey turned.

“Then prove it, prove that you're sorry”

“What?” Lewis blinked.

“Prove you love me. Give me half your assets. Everything you brag about, your estates, your car, the stocks. Split it with me. Right now!”

Lewis hesitated. He was foolish but to an extent…Rosey, God! He loved her so much.

“Not so bold now, are you?” Rosey said coldly. “All that ego… turns out you’re just another cheap liar and cheat.”

Lewis swallowed hard. “Okay. Fine. I’ll do it. Half.”

“No. I want all of it.”

“What?!”

“All or nothing, Lewis!”

Jaxon could see the war inside Lewis, his pride bleeding. But the fear of losing Rosey was greater, especially now that he’d been caught.

“…Fine,” he muttered. “All of it. Just… don’t leave me, pleeeeaaase!!!.”

Rosey looked at him with disdain. “Ugh! You make me sick, Lewis.”

Jaxon felt fulfilled, revenge had never been sweeter. He had finally dealt with the bloody arrogant wife-snatching baboon.

His revenge was complete. But his own troubles were far from over.

Back at his apartment, the unexpected sound of loud knocking echoed through the neighborhood. He opened the door, Governor Harrow and a dozen stern-faced security operatives met him.

“Mr. Mason,” Harrow said curtly. “You’ve been given fair warning. Now, you’re officially being evicted.”

Jaxon crossed his arms, he couldn't understand what was happening.

“You're officially evicted from this property, NOW!”

Jaxon met Harrow’s stare evenly. “You’re throwing me out over a divorce? How dignified.”

“Since Rosey divorced you, this place is no longer yours. Pack your things and leave while you can still walk.”

“Is this how you treat family?”

“You’re no family and you never were.”

Jaxon didn’t flinch, he’d expected this.

“Since Rosey’s divorce is finalized, you no longer have any claim here,” Harrow continued, “ So pack your things and get going. Now!”

The exchange drew the attention of neighbors, curious glances and whispered judgments. Jaxon didn’t care.

As Harrow’s men began hauling Jaxon’s belongings out, the governor turned to leave, his voice laced with one final barb. “Remember, Mr. Mason, power is everything. You lost yours the moment my daughter left you.”

Jaxon sat outside his former home. Close by, a muted television buzzed with news about the upcoming Governor’s Night, the annual celebration of Harrow’s political victories.

His wristwatch chimed:

ONE HOUR TO SURGERY PHASE 2

His phone buzzed; it was the director, Charles.

The voice on the other end didn’t wait for pleasantries.

“Jaxon… Good. Grab a fresh cleaning set from storage and deliver it to our corporate partner suite at the Deluxe Hotel. Immediately.”

Charles didn’t stop.

“Don’t embarrass the hospital. Look presentable. They’re VIPs and you’re already a stain on the uniform. You’ve got 40 minutes. GO!”

Click.

Jaxon let out a slow breath. Charles was always testing him. Always barking orders without knowing the man he was humiliating owned everything he stood on.

He changed quickly into a fresh pair of khaki overalls, grabbed the labeled cleaning set, and drove down to the hotel.

A woman at the reception gave him a disinterested glance.

“Suite 409,” she muttered, not looking up. “They’re expecting you.”

That was the last thing he remembered.

Forty minutes later, he awoke to the strong smell of cool air and foreign hotel sheets.

Wtf! Where was he?

He was in a hotel bed. Stark naked; and beside him, partially buried under the silk sheets, was a woman, also naked.

“What the hell…” he muttered, jerking away.

The woman stirred slightly, her hair falling over her face. She wasn’t familiar.

Jaxon’s watch beeped again:

10 MINUTES TO SURGERY PHASE TWO.

Dammit!

He stumbled out of bed and pulled on his clothes as his mind flashed to Maziya. She was running out of time.

There was a glass on the side table, he sniffed it – sedatives.

He looked down at the woman again; she wasn’t waking up.

Jaxon burst out, ignoring the judgmental eyes of the hotel staff by the elevator.

Down the stairs, out the lobby, and into his car.