My Husband Divorced Me While I Was Still Recovering From Donating My Kidney To His Mother. He Left Me With A $10,000 Check And A Mocking Smile. Little Does He Know, His Mom Never Actually Received My Organ. What Should I Do When He Finds Out Who Got It Instead?

The Web Tightens

The luxurious Caldwell family home now felt gloomy. Several expensive paintings were missing from the walls, sold to cover monthly operational costs. The central air conditioning was turned off to save electricity, making the air inside feel stuffy and damp. In the master bedroom, now converted into a makeshift hospital room, Beatrice lay weak. A portable dialysis machine, rented at a high price, hummed in the corner.

“Julian,” Beatrice called, her voice raspy.

Her once plump body was now emaciated, just skin and bones darkened by uremic toxins. Julian sat on the edge of the bed, feeding his mother bland porridge.

“Yes, Mom?”

“It hurts so much, Julian. My bones feel like they’re breaking,” his mother moaned. “When… when can I have another surgery? Have you found a donor?”

“I heard there are brokers who can find one in China,” Julian sighed heavily. “It costs $2 million, Mom. We don’t have that kind of money right now. The company’s assets are frozen by the bank.”

“Just sell that bitch Clara’s assets,” Beatrice snapped, her sudden anger making her heart monitor beep rapidly. “The properties, the factory in Jersey—they’re in her name, but it’s our money. Sell them!”

Julian bit his lip. He didn’t dare tell his mother that the hasty divorce he filed had cost him any legal claim to those assets. If he told her now, she might die of a heart attack.

“We’re working on it, Mom. The bureaucracy is complicated,” Julian lied.

“What about the gala yesterday?” Beatrice asked hopefully. “Did you meet the investor?”

Julian glanced at Tiffany, who was playing on her phone on the sofa. Tiffany rolled her eyes, bored with her nagging mother-in-law.

“I did, Mom,” Julian replied. “Her name is Clara Sterling. Mr. Sterling’s adopted daughter.”

“Clara?” Beatrice’s eyes widened. “You mean your ex-wife Clara? That useless orphan?”

“She’s rich now, Mom. Very rich. And she agreed to meet with me tomorrow to discuss an investment.”

Beatrice laughed, a dry, frightening sound.

“Good, good. I knew she was a fool. She must still be in love with you, Julian. You’re handsome, charming. She must regret divorcing you. Use that. Seduce her if you have to. Tell her to donate her other kidney, or just ask for her money to buy a new one for me.”

“Yes, Mom,” Julian said placatingly, though he had his doubts. Clara’s look at the party had been anything but loving, but Julian had no other choice. He had to believe his own delusion. “Mom, don’t worry. Tomorrow I’ll make her sign the contract. We’ll be on top again.”

In the corner, Tiffany snorted softly. She got up and left the room, secretly texting someone: “Get the fake documents ready. If Julian gets the money, we’re out of here the day after tomorrow.”

Monday morning, Sterling Tower. Julian arrived alone. He wore his best remaining suit and carried a briefcase filled with a doctored financial report. He was directed to the 40th floor, the executive level. The conference room had glass walls with a direct view of Central Park. At the head of a long mahogany table, Clara sat in a high-backed director’s chair. To her right was Mr. Chen, and to her left Mr. Fletcher, the lawyer, along with several analysts. She didn’t stand to greet him, merely gesturing for him to sit in the chair opposite her—a position that made him look small and intimidated.

“Please, Mr. Caldwell. I only have 20 minutes,” Clara said without pleasantries.

“Clara… uh, Miss Sterling,” Julian smiled nervously. “Thank you for seeing me. I… I was shocked by your transformation. You look incredible.”

“The financial report,” Clara cut in coldly.

Julian hastily pulled out his files.

“As you can see, Caldwell Textiles is experiencing a temporary cash flow problem due to global market conditions, but our fundamentals are strong. We need a capital injection of $10 million for debt restructuring and working capital.”

Mr. Chen took the file, flipped through it briefly, and then tossed it back onto the table as if it were trash.

“This report is garbage, Mr. Caldwell,” Mr. Chen said flatly. “We’ve already conducted our own independent due diligence. Your company is effectively bankrupt. Your bank loans are in default, your vendors haven’t been paid, and we found embezzlement of operational funds into a personal account under the name Tiffany.”

Julian’s face went pale. “That’s… that’s slander! Where did you get that data?”

“We know everything,” Clara interjected. She leaned forward, locking eyes with him. “But Vanguard Capital is a risk-taking firm. I see potential in your assets. Your factory land is in a strategic location.”

Clara pushed a thick contract across the table.

“We are prepared to inject $15 million. Enough to pay off the banks, the vendors, and perhaps your mother’s medical bills.”

Julian’s eyes glittered with greed at the number. “Really? What are the conditions?”

“Sign here,” Mr. Fletcher instructed. “This is a convertible bond investment agreement. Simply put, we loan you the money, you put up all shares of Caldwell Textiles and all your personal assets as collateral. If within three months you fail to meet the sales KPIs we’ve set, 100% ownership of the company transfers to us.”

“Three months?” Julian hesitated. “That’s very short.”

“With $15 million you can boost production, can’t you? Unless you’re not confident in your own abilities,” Clara challenged. “Or you can walk away empty-handed and watch your mother get evicted from the hospital.”

Julian swallowed hard. He was cornered. He was sure he could turn the money around. He was sure he could manipulate the sales reports later. The important thing was getting the cash now.

“One more thing,” Mr. Fletcher added. “The asset collateral appendix lists several properties registered under the name Clara Caldwell, which you claim as company assets. We need you to sign a statement affirming that these assets are indeed under the control of Caldwell Textiles Management to be used as collateral.”

Julian laughed internally. Fools, he thought. She’s agreeing to let her own assets be used as collateral for my debt. If I default, she loses her property, not me. Without reading the penalty clauses in detail, Julian quickly signed the document.

“Deal,” Julian said.

Clara smiled. This time her smile was genuinely sweet, yet deadly.

“A pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Caldwell. The funds will be transferred this afternoon.”

As Julian left the room with a spring in his step, Clara turned to Mr. Fletcher.

“He just used assets that are legally mine from the divorce decree to secure a loan he took out himself. That’s collateral fraud, isn’t it, Mr. Fletcher?”

“Precisely, Ma’am,” the old lawyer replied. “And the sales KPIs we set are impossible to achieve because we’ve already blocked his distribution channels through other Sterling subsidiaries. In three months, he won’t just lose his company; he’ll be going to prison.”

“Perfect,” Clara whispered.