Divorcing The Billionaire: My Son Comes First

"Ms. Kensington, your son’s condition is critical. A foreign body is lodged deep in his bronchus, causing severe airway obstruction.

We need your immediate signature on the critical illness notice for emergency surgery." The cold and urgent voice of a colleague at the hospital broke through the noise on the phone, rousing Chloe Kensington from her work exhaustion.

Ten minutes ago, she was stuck working at the hospital. Just then, she suddenly received a phone call that disrupted her peaceful night.

Leo, who is five years old, accidentally swallowed a bead while playing alone and was urgently sent to The New YorkPresbyterian Hospital, his condition being critical.

Chloe’s blood ran cold in an instant. She abandoned her unfinished work, grabbed her coat in a rush, and drove straight to the emergency ward at top speed.

Now standing outside the pediatric operating room, she stared numbly at the critical illness notice in her hand, every word burning into her vision.

Her hands trembled uncontrollably as she picked up the pen, scrawling her signature in jagged, shaking strokes.

As a medical professional, she knew exactly what this notice meant—her little boy was teetering on the brink of death.

The terrifying scene the nurse described haunted her mind: Leo had been playing with tiny marbles in the nursery while she was at work.

He had accidentally inhaled one midplay, the hard marble wedging tightly in his bronchus, triggering violent choking, severe hypoxia, and desperate gasping for air.

By the time the nanny spotted his bluetinged lips and frantic clutching at his throat, it was already too late for basic first aid.

Chloe’s heart twisted with crushing guilt and fear. She had been working overtime, unaware her child was fighting for life alone at home.

In her intense longing for a bit of comfort and support, she dialed her husband Kurtis Jenkins's phone.

At this moment, she desperately needed his presence, especially during this nightmarelike time. The call went to voicemail.

She redialed repeatedly, five times in total, before the line finally connected.

Blaring music and raucous laughter flooded the background, a stark contrast to the heavy, deathly silence of the hospital corridor. “Chloe?

I’m at a crucial business dinner, about to deliver a keynote speech.

What’s so urgent?” Kurtis’s voice was sharp, impatient, laced with pure irritation at being disturbed. “Kurtis, it’s Leo,” Chloe choked out, her throat raw and tight with suppressed sobs. “He’s in emergency surgery.

He swallowed a marble, it’s stuck in his airway—he’s critically ill.

The doctors are operating on him right now.” “Don’t be ridiculous.” Kurtis cut her off coldly, his tone utterly dismissive and unfeeling.“Kids put random things in their mouths all the time.

It’s just a trivial accident. You’re a doctor, you know how to handle this. Don’t disrupt my important event for petty family stuff.” The line went dead instantly.

Chloe stared blankly at the black screen, the monotonous dial tone drumming in her ears.

A bonedeep, soulcrushing chill spread from her chest to every limb, freezing her blood solid.

While she was falling apart over their dying son, her husband cared only about his trivial social occasion.

A moment later, her phone vibrated with a message from a close friend, carrying an Instagram Live link. Numb and broken, she tapped it open.

The live stream burst into vibrant, celebratory color. A lavish private party was decked out with pink balloons and cascading fresh flowers.

Front and center stood Kurtis, smiling brightly and basking in the crowd’s attention.

Curled intimately into his side was his public mistress, social media influencer Genesis Greene.

Clapping excitedly beside them, grinning from ear to ear, was Chloe’s nineyearold daughter, Mia.

Kurtis raised a champagne microphone, his eyes soft and devoted only for Genesis, oblivious to his son’s lifeordeath surgery. “To my one and only love, the light of my life—happy birthday, Genesis.” The crowd erupted in loud cheers.

Genesis blew a playful kiss to the camera, her lip beauty mark glowing under the party lights.

Mia’s clear, childish voice rang out publicly for thousands to hear: “Happy birthday, Genesis Mommy!” The words shattered Chloe completely. Her vision blurred with torrential tears.

The phone slipped from her numb fingers, clattering hard on the cold hospital floor, its screen cracking into countless spiderwebbed shards.

Reflected in the broken glass was a perfect, happy new family: her husband, his mistress, and her own daughter.

It was a grotesque, hellish contrast to her son, fighting desperately for survival behind the operating room’s redlit doors. A silent, desolate laugh escaped her lips.

His socalled “important business dinner” was nothing but his mistress’s birthday party.

While their fiveyearold son lay dying on an operating table, his father was celebrating another woman’s birthday.

While she drowned in guilt and terror, her daughter had already embraced a new mother without a second thought.

Years of tolerance, sacrifice, and endless dedication to her family had amounted to nothing but brutal, public humiliation. Her marriage was a hollow, pathetic joke.

Slowly, Chloe bent to pick up her shattered phone. Kurtis’s smiling face was split into dozens of ugly, alien fragments. She wiped away her scalding tears and stood straight.

Every trace of grief and weakness in her eyes vanished, replaced by a cold, razorsharp calm, as icy and unyielding as broken glass.

The operating room’s red light still blazed above her, but she knew the truth.

Her love, her marriage, and every last illusion she’d ever held for Kurtis had been completely and permanently extinguished.

She didn't know how long she sat there before the sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the hall. Chloe looked up. It was Kurtis.

He was still in his expensive party suit, a fleck of confetti clinging to his perfectly styled hair.

His face was a mask of irritation, as if he'd been dragged away from something far more important.

Trailing behind him was Mia, dressed in a frilly princess gown, her expression sullen and resentful.

Kurtis stopped in front of Chloe, looking down at her with a frown. "What did the doctor say? It was just a marble.

Was it really worth dozens of calls to pull me away?" Chloe didn't answer. She just stared at him with an expression he'd never seen beforecold, empty, and vast.

Kurtis shifted his weight, his jaw tightening slightly.

Mia tugged on his sleeve. "Daddy, when can we go back?" she whined. "Genesis Mommy is waiting for us to cut the cake." The words were a needle, precise and sharp, plunging straight into Chloe's heart.

She closed her eyes, took a deep, shuddering breath, and when she opened them again, there was only indifference. Just then, the operating room door opened.

The surgeon, pulling off his mask, walked towards them. "The procedure was a success. We've removed the object. But he was deprived of oxygen for a little too long.

We need to keep him in the ICU for observation for the next 48 hours." Chloe's knees buckled.

She steadied herself against the wall, thanking the doctor in a voice so hoarse it was barely a whisper. Kurtis, however, looked relieved. He clapped his hands together. "See?

I told you it was nothing.

Well, since the surgery's over, we can go, right?" He turned to lead Mia away. "Kurtis." Chloe's voice was chillingly calm. "Aren't you curious what kind of marble Leo swallowed?" He glanced back, annoyed. "What difference does it make?" Chloe's gaze shifted to Mia.

Her voice was quiet, but it seemed to suck all the sound out of the hallway. "Mia, tell your father where you got that pretty, blue glass marble with the star pattern." Mia's face went white.

She instinctively hid behind Kurtis, her eyes wide with fear. Chloe knew the answer. It was a limitededition collector's item Kurtis had brought back from Europe last year.

He had warned everyone, especially little Leo, never to touch it. Kurtis's expression changed.

He looked down at Mia, his voice sharp. "Did you take my marble?" Mia looked like she was about to cry. She clutched his pants leg. "I didn't mean to...

I just wanted him to be quiet. He kept crying for Mommy..." Another stab of pain, sharp with guilt and selfblame, pierced Chloe. Leo had been crying for her.

And she had been downstairs, preparing dinner, trusting her daughter to look after her little brother. Mia continued in a small, broken whisper, trying to minimize her guilt. "I...

I just told him that if he ate the 'candy,' Mommy would come back right away..." She thought she was whispering, but in the silent corridor, every word was a hammer blow against Chloe's eardrums.

A chill washed over Chloe. She stared at her daughter, the child she had raised, who had just tried to poison her own brother with such casual malice.

She looked at Kurtis, expecting to see shock, or anger. There was none. After hearing Mia's "confession," Kurtis just paused for a second.

Then he knelt, stroking Mia's hair, his tone soothing. "It's okay, don't be scared. You didn't mean it.

Just don't be so naughty next time, understand?" Her malice, Leo's brush with death, all dismissed with a soft, meaningless reprimand.

Chloe felt a hot rush of blood to her head, making her ears ring. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. He knew the truth, and he chose to ignore it.

Kurtis stood up, not even glancing at Chloe again. He turned to Mia. "Alright, let's go back.

We shouldn't keep Genesis waiting." As if Leo's life, as if Mia's viciousness, were less important than his mistress's party.

Chloe stood frozen, watching the father and daughter walk away. One tall, one small, both equally selfish and coldblooded. In that moment, Chloe finally understood.

This family was rotten to the core. She didn't cry. She didn't scream. She simply took out her phone and sent a text to her lawyer. "Prepare the divorce papers.

I want nothing but full and sole custody of Leo."

The next morning, Chloe sat outside the ICU. She hadn't slept, and dark circles bruised the skin under her eyes, but her gaze was unnervingly clear. Leo's condition was stable.

Using the time before visiting hours, Chloe walked to the Integrative Medicine department, a place she used to call her professional home. A former colleague, Dr.

Evans, saw her and his face lit up in surprise. "Chloe!How did you come here?" Chloe briefly explained about her son, then got to the point. "Mark, I need a favor.

Can you print me a few blank admission and authorization forms on hospital letterhead?" Mark Evans, a good friend, didn't ask questions. He quickly prepared the documents for her.

After thanking him, Chloe returned to the ICU waiting area. Her phone rang. An unknown number. She answered. "Mrs.

Kensington, it's me." The voice was soft, weak, but laced with provocation. It was Genesis Greene. Chloe listened, her face a blank mask.

Genesis offered a syrupy, fake apology, claiming she had no idea Leo was so sick, that it was all her fault for having the party. Then, Genesis's tone shifted.

She started coughing weakly into the phone. "I'm sorry, I... I think I caught a chill yesterday. I have a fever, my head is spinning..." The phone was passed to someone else.

It was Kurtis. "Chloe, Genesis is sick. I'm bringing her to the hospital. You'd better not cause a scene and damage our family's reputation." A cold smile touched Chloe's lips.

She hung up. She knew this game. And this time, she was ready to play. Half an hour later, Kurtis appeared at the end of the hall, supporting a "frail" Genesis.

Genesis looked pale, leaning heavily on Kurtis. When she saw Chloe, a flicker of triumph flashed in her eyes.

Kurtis frowned at Chloe, his voice dripping with command. "You are a doctor, go help her handle the hospital admission procedures.

Arrange the best VIP room for her." He shoved Genesis's ID and insurance card into Chloe's hand as if she were a servant. Chloe didn't argue.

She took them calmly and walked to the nurses' station. Kurtis watched, satisfied. He thought Chloe was still the same obedient woman he could control.

In a quiet corner by the station, Chloe quickly pulled out the stack of forms she had prepared.

She slipped one particular document, an "Authorization for Surgery and Special Treatment," into the middle of a stack of standard "Admission Information" and "Privacy Policy" forms.

She filled out Genesis's information on the top few pages, then walked back to Kurtis.

She handed him the clipboard and a pen. "Here, here, and here," she said flatly, pointing to the signature lines. "A guardian or family member needs to sign." Kurtis's attention was entirely on the pathetically whimpering Genesis beside him.

He was anxious to get his mistress settled and had no patience for paperwork. "So many? What a hassle," he complained.

He snatched the pen and scribbled his nameKurtis Jenkinson every line Chloe had indicated. When he reached the "Authorization" form in the middle, he didn't even pause.

Chloe watched his signature flow onto the paper. Her heart was a block of ice. This man, who would sign anything without a second thought for his lover's minor illness.

Yesterday, she had signed their son's surgery consent form alone, her tears staining the ink. After signing, Kurtis tossed the clipboard back at her. "Done. Now hurry up.

I want the best doctor." Chloe quietly took the forms. She handed the top few standard pages to the nurse.

Then, she carefully slid the signed "Special Authorization" from the middle of the stack, folded it, and slipped it into her pocket.

She turned back to Kurtis. "The paperwork is processed. You can wait in clinic room 3." Kurtis led Genesis away without a single question about Leo in the ICU.

Chloe watched them go, her hand tightening around the folded paper in her pocket. It wasn't a standard form.

She had added a single, typed line below the title: "Regarding the Irrevocable Authorization to Waive All Claims to Marital Assets and Sole Custody of Children." Legally, it might be contestable.

But as a tool of blackmail, as a threat to a man who valued his reputation above all else, it was a nuclear weapon. Chloe's first counterattack. Precise, silent, and deadly.

She walked to the ICU window and looked at her sleeping son, her eyes filled with unshakable resolve.