Blackbeard Operating Novels & Stories

Altezza Quirino, a young Italian-American billionaire, desired to have offspring. However, his girlfriend of the past six years consistently rejected his marriage proposals, providing various reasons that eventually led Altezza to give up and decide to part ways. Adaline Scott, a young woman facing difficulties due to her mother's ailing health, sought a loan from the company to save her mother's life. However, the loan offered was too substantial, leading her superior to propose an alternative: borrowing directly from the Chief Operating Officer, Altezza Quirino. Altezza agreed to assist Adaline, but with the condition that she must marry him and provide him with unlimited offspring. "I will help you by saving your mother's life, and in return, you will give me another life, a child for me." - Altezza Quirino

"NO… Don't hurt my baby, PLEASE!" That day, Aria knelt on the freezing cold floor of the operating room, her desperate cries echoing off the sterile walls. But Kane’s cruelty cut deeper than any scalpel. "She is unworthy of being the mother of my child." Those words shattered her. In a final act of heartbreak and defiance, Aria threw herself out of his world—and out of his reach. Years later, she returns. Not alone. By her side is the daughter Kane never knew existed—the living proof of the love he once so cruelly denied. Now the man who cast her aside is the one left shattered—haunted by regret, consumed by obsession, willing to tear the world apart to claim what he lost. Her. Their daughter. Their second chance.

My husband's childhood sweetheart took the Cullinan I gave him for a midnight joyride. One person ended up critically injured. He wired half a million euros from the family account to hire a fall guy, then flew her to Switzerland for a ski trip. I called him from outside the operating room, desperate. "Your father is dying. Authorize the surgery, now!" He laughed, her head on his shoulder in the video call. "Using my father's health to lie? Sofia, you've crossed a line." The line went dead. The heart monitor flatlined. Later, at his father's funeral, he raged, swearing to find the killer and make them pay. I looked at the gathered family elders, then pointed at the trembling woman behind him. "The killer is right there. The one you paid to protect."

To save his childhood sweetheart, who had a congenital heart condition, my husband tricked me into signing an organ donation agreement. Then he got into a truck and ran me over right in front of the hospital. Barely clinging to life, Elliot Carter tore my heart from my chest. When my body was wheeled out of the operating room, Alan Yates came crashing to my side like a man gone mad. Seeing the gaping hole where my heart used to be, he screamed and wept: "I'm sorry… I was too late… If there's another life, I'll never let you suffer like this again…" Tears fell exactly where my heart had been, and somehow, I even felt a flicker of warmth. He spun around and ran back into the operating room. When he came out again, Elliot and Jessica Foster were lying in a pool of blood. Alan, meanwhile, had slashed his own wrist to die with me. On his deathbed, he ordered that we be buried together. Then I opened my eyes. I had been reborn. Before me stood Elliot, dressed in a wedding gown, holding a bouquet, and proposing. I flung the flowers in his face and turned to embrace Alan in the crowd. However, only a year and a half into our marriage, he changed. Alan began openly pairing up with Jessica, letting her move into our home. Worse, he claimed that our cat's mating season had disturbed Jessica's sleep, and so he allowed her to run over the cat I had raised for seven years. I could not believe it. This was not the man who had loved me so deeply in my previous life. My eyes blazing, I demanded, "What's wrong with you?" However, Alan's gaze was icy. "Nothing. I just don't love you anymore."

When Peter, my father-in-law, suffered a heart attack and needed an urgent transplant, the hospital miraculously had a compatible heart. Helen, my mother-in-law and I were overjoyed. We thought it was a blessing from above. However, just as we were getting ready for surgery, Nate, my husband, disappeared with the compatible heart. When we finally reached him by phone, it was Camile, his first love. “Nate is busy prepping for my dad’s heart surgery. Stop distracting him!” Helen was trembling with fury. On her way to confront Nate, she got into a car accident and ended up in a critical condition. I begged Nate to come back and operate on her, but he walked into another operating room. In the end, my in-laws died. Their bodies were donated for organ transplant. It was not until later that I found out that their organs had been donated to Camile’s family.

After three tireless years of giving her all, Suzy Frost faced the ultimate betrayal on the operating table when she heard, "Her life or death means nothing to me." Realizing she was nothing more than a shadow to her husband, Dylan Wright, who was still devoted to his first love, Suzy took a dramatic step back. She left behind a stark divorce agreement and disappeared from his life without a trace. Their paths crossed again under unexpected circumstances—Suzy was now the mysterious fiancée of Dylan’s best friend. Unable to hide his tumultuous feelings, Dylan pulled her into a possessive embrace and declared, "I won't grant you a divorce!" With a scornful glance, Suzy retorted, "Who do you think you are?" To which he fired back, "I'm still your husband!"

My firefighter husband had fallen from a great height during a mission and was rushed into the emergency room, covered in blood. As the only person capable of saving him, I stood just outside the operating room, calm and composed. Reaching for my makeup bag, I began carefully applying my makeup. Another doctor, panic-stricken, rushed toward me and shouted, "Dr. Warhol! The patient's kidney has ruptured! You're the only surgeon in all of Switzerland who can perform this life-saving procedure! If you don’t act now, he’s going to die!" I continued shaping my eyebrows with steady precision, not even glancing in his direction. "Quiet," I said coolly. "If you keep yelling, my brows might end up crooked."

"Miss Alice Brown, I am the butler here for your service. Our sir wants to buy the baby in your belly.” Butler replied. "What?!" Does that mean the abortion didn't take place? Did they kidnap her from the operating table? Just to buy the baby? But why her? "You..." Alice was about to ask a question, but the man in front of her said calmly, as if he had expected her question, "Miss, you are pregnant with the master's child, and he needs a child, that's all I can tell you." *** Alice was forced to sign a surrogacy contract and eight months later gave birth to two healthy children. Fortunately, the man was unaware of her daughter's existence. It wasn't until five years later that fate brought them together again...

I am the lawfully wedded wife of Don Jones—the Donna of the Jones Family—and the founding CEO of his medical empire. I stood by Vincent's side as we built it up from a two-room surgical clinic into the crown jewel of European private healthcare. Then, in my eighth month of pregnancy, dying on the operating table, Vincent pulled every surgeon out of my maternity ward for the sake of his mistress. He killed our child with his own hands. He stripped me of the right to ever be a mother. He thought I was a homeless orphan with nowhere to go. He had no idea I was the sole blood heir of the Belmonte Family. After the divorce, I came home to command a global medical empire. He knelt and begged. I watched, cold-eyed, as he fell into hell.

During a critical heart transplant, my doctor husband insisted his intern assist despite her garish nail art compromising the sterile field. When I called her out, he abandoned the patient mid-surgery to comfort her. I begged him to return, but he snapped, "Giselle is upset. Can't you wait? This is nothing compared to her feelings." 40 minutes later, the patient bled out and died. Later, they discovered that he was our highly respected mayor and placed the blame on me. "If it weren't for you causing a scene and kicking us out of the operating room, the mayor wouldn't have bled to death. This is all your fault!" Defenseless, I was sentenced to life in prison, tortured, and died in agony. My husband and his intern walked down the aisle, enjoying their happy life. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of that fateful surgery.