His "True Love" Was Fake... So Was My Corpse, Sucker! - Chapter 106: Chapter 106

Those few words precisely hit my Achilles' heel. The one weakness I couldn't afford to ignore.
I dropped my head in despair, a flash of humiliation in my eyes, finally surrendering:
"I'm sorry." The words tasted like ash in my mouth.
Marcus lounged lazily on the sofa. A sneering smile appeared on his lips, victory making him bold.
"Too late. Your willing apology was the previous condition. Now you must kneel, bow your head ten times in apology, and say you're the most worthless slut in the world who had no right to push Zoe!"
After hearing those words, I slowly raised my head to look at him in disbelief. The grievances in my heart, mingled with anger, were about to well up in my throat. "You've gone too far!"
Marcus casually lit a cigarette, taking a slow drag before saying: "You don't have to apologize. Just don't come begging when I withdraw my investment."
I stood frozen for a moment, then slowly knelt down on the cold tile floor.
I had no choice.
Between family and marriage, I'd already been shattered beyond recognition, with no dignity left to speak of. What was one more humiliation in an ocean of indignities?
"I'm sorry... I'm a worthless slut... I shouldn't have pushed Zoe..." Each word was a knife in my heart.
I knelt numbly on the floor, repeatedly bowing my head, the motion mechanical and empty.
Marcus exhaled a puff of smoke and signaled his assistant to open the door, letting the curious onlookers witness this scene of total degradation.
As soon as the door opened, the hallway filled with patients, family members, even doctors and nurses peeking in, drawn by the spectacle of a woman's humiliation.
Everyone crowded the corridor until it was completely blocked, jostling for a better view.
They all pointed and whispered with malicious intent, some even taking videos with their phones. In the age of social media, my shame would be immortalized within minutes.
Tears fell from the corners of my eyes as I finished the last bow, my consciousness fading entirely, the edges of my vision darkening.
Overwhelming dizziness suddenly hit me like a tidal wave.
I couldn't hold on any longer and completely passed out, collapsing to the floor in a heap.
A woman in the crowd noticed something wrong and screamed in horror:
"She's bleeding heavily from below!"
The crimson stain spreading across my hospital gown caught everyone's attention. Suddenly, the mocking faces transformed into expressions of shock and concern. The entertainment had taken an unexpectedly dark turn.
Doctors rushed in, medical professionalism overtaking voyeuristic curiosity. They lifted me onto a gurney and rushed me to the emergency room, urgently administering blood plasma and antiseptics.
I had fallen into a deep coma, my breathing extremely faint, my body unconsciously trembling as the bleeding worsened. The trauma of being dragged from my hospital bed had torn open my surgical wounds.
"The patient is failing. Get the defibrillator quickly!" the doctor shouted urgently from the operating room doorway to a nurse at the end of the corridor by the sterilization supply room.
Marcus stood dazed in the hallway, not yet recovered from what had just happened. The reality of the situation was finally sinking in.
He raised his slightly trembling hand, fingertips still stained with dried dark blood—my blood. The same hands that had signed our divorce papers just days earlier.
I had collapsed right before his eyes, looking as if I might never wake again.
And until that moment, he had believed it was all an act, a performance designed to garner sympathy and avoid responsibility.
The operating room door suddenly opened with a bang that made everyone jump.
The doctor removed his blood-soaked gloves with a frown, scolding Marcus harshly:
"What were you thinking, treating a patient like this? Her wounds have repeatedly torn open and become infected. We need to remove her right fallopian tube—she'll never be able to have children!"
"I-I thought she was faking..." Marcus stammered, but inside, a wave of panic surged through him. He felt as if he'd lost something important, crossed a line that couldn't be uncrossed.
Seeing his distracted expression, Zoe quickly grabbed his arm and gently comforted him:
"Marcus, don't blame yourself! It's all Olivia's fault for being so stubborn. If she'd apologized earlier, none of this would have happened." Her voice was honey-sweet, absolving him of all responsibility.
Hearing this, Marcus suddenly understood. The clarity was almost painful.
He was just standing up for the woman he loved. What was wrong with that?
It was Olivia's fault for refusing to back down, clinging to her ridiculous pride for no reason.
Everything was her own doing.
"The baby's kicking my stomach, Marcus. Can we go to the café? I want some soup," Zoe deliberately rubbed her stomach and pouted, drawing his attention away from the crisis unfolding behind the operating room doors.
"Of course, let's go now." Marcus carefully put his arm around her and left without a backward glance, choosing the easier path over confronting his own actions.
As they walked away, a nurse watching from the nurses' station shook her head in disgust, muttering under her breath, "Some people shouldn't be allowed to reproduce."