The Unwanted Wife is A Genius Doctor

"Everything off?" "Of course." Lavinia Westwood felt a little uneasy. The man in front of her was too striking. Even with only his deep-set eyes visible, partially hidden beneath a surgical mask, she could imagine the handsome features underneath. Thinking about what was about to happen made her nerves tighten. "Miss Westwood," he said, his voice low and warm, like a soft breeze on a spring evening, teasing her heart. Lavinia's thoughts were suddenly interrupted. She stammered, "What is it, doctor?" "I need to conduct a bimanual exam next. Please lie down on the examination table." Following his instructions, she lay down, bent her knees, and allowed him to proceed. The stretch and the exploratory pressure of his hands made her instinctively close her eyes. Then, the light above her dimmed, and his voice came again from above. "You can sit up now." By the time she adjusted her dress and drew back the curtain, he was already seated at his desk, finishing his sanitization routine. "The results from last week's blood test are in." This man—her attending physician—was a young, accomplished graduate of an overseas medical program. The epitome of brilliance. Without looking at her, he typed swiftly on his keyboard and said, "Based on the findings, you're in the early stage of ovarian cancer." Lavinia's heart sank, though she had already suspected it. "I knew it..." He nodded slightly and paused his typing. "There's no need to worry too much. Thanks to your regular checkups, we've caught it early, and it's still manageable." "Okay…" Once a celebrated model, Lavinia had led a lifestyle that often neglected proper diet and rest. But because of her family history, she had always made a habit of regular checkups. "You have involvement in only one ovary so far, meaning your fertility can still be preserved. I'll prescribe a targeted therapy we've recently developed here at the institute." He handed her several pages of documentation and glanced at her. "The rest is outlined in these instructions. By the way, did your husband not accompany you?" Hearing this, Lavinia felt a pang in her chest. "I don't need him." She had rushed to the hospital after receiving an urgent call, never expecting the news to be this devastating. Walking out of the clinic, she felt dazed. Today marked her second wedding anniversary with Lucas Sterling. Yet, their marriage had always been a cold, empty shell. Recently, he hadn't even been coming home or replying to her messages. As she debated how to break the news to him, a text from Lucas popped up. The message contained an address. Lucas: an upscale private club. Her emotions were complicated. 'Could he be planning a surprise?' When she arrived, clutching the cake she had carefully prepared for their anniversary, she felt a glimmer of hope. But as soon as she reached the door of a private suite, voices from inside caught her attention. A man she didn't recognize exclaimed, "Lucas, you really spoil Charlotte! Renting out the entire club for her birthday?" Laughter erupted inside. The "Charlotte Westwood" they were referring to was none other than Lavinia's adopted sister. Her hand froze on the doorknob. She glanced around the luxurious hallway, her heart sinking. So she wasn't the guest of honor after all. Charlotte's sweet, syrupy voice chimed in. "Oh, you guys love teasing me." "Teasing? Not at all! Our dear Charlotte even got Lucas to bake her a birthday cake himself!" On her anniversary, Lavinia was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. Meanwhile, her husband was celebrating her sister's birthday. How laughable. She stared at the cake in her hands for a moment before turning to toss it into the trash. After a deep breath, she pushed the door open. The lively atmosphere inside froze the moment Lavinia entered. The guests—Lucas's close friends and business associates—fell silent. Sitting at the head of the table, Lucas looked as polished as ever, his arm resting around the glamorous Charlotte. They looked like a picture-perfect couple. Lucas frowned when he saw her. "What are you doing here?" Charlotte, holding Lucas's phone, piped up playfully. "Why not? Can't I invite my sister to my birthday party?" Lavinia quickly pieced it together. Charlotte must have sent her the text from Lucas's phone. "Happy birthday, Charlotte," Lavinia said with forced politeness. "I was in a rush, so I didn't bring a gift." Charlotte wore an exquisite champagne-colored silk dress—ironically, the same dress Lavinia had once begged Lucas to buy her. At the time, Lucas had looked at her with disdain and said, "You're not worth spending money on." The memory left Lavinia with a bitter taste in her mouth. Charlotte approached Lavinia with a show of sisterly affection. "Oh, don't worry about a gift, Lavinia. Your presence means the world to me! I just couldn't bear the thought of celebrating without you." Then, lowering her voice so only Lavinia could hear, she added, "By the way, I'm pregnant with Lucas's child." Lavinia was still processing the words when Charlotte suddenly stumbled backward with a cry. Amid the gasps, Lucas caught Charlotte in his arms. Everyone glared at Lavinia with disgust and scorn. "Oh my God! Charlotte, are you okay?" "Thank goodness Lucas caught her, or she would've fallen!" Lucas's expression darkened as he turned to Lavinia and slapped her hard across the face. The blow was so forceful that blood appeared at the corner of her mouth. "What kind of sister are you? How could you raise your hand against her?"