I Went Bankrupt And My Husband Left Me.I Sold My Plasma For $40 Then Found Out It Was Worth Millions
The residential wing of Clinique des Alpes resembled a five-star alpine resort more than any medical facility I’d ever encountered. My new suite featured a full kitchen, a living area with a fireplace, and floor-to-ceiling windows that framed the mountains like a living painting. Under different circumstances, I might have reveled in such luxury, but my thoughts remained distracted, split between concerns about Alexander’s recovery, Gavin’s legal maneuvers back home, and my own uncertain future.
Alexander was moved from intensive care to a private recovery suite on the same day I transferred to the residential wing. Though still weak and requiring frequent monitoring, his natural authority reasserted itself quickly. Within days, he had established a modified work schedule, reviewing urgent banking matters via secure tablet and conducting brief video conferences with key executives, much to Dr. Weber’s poorly concealed frustration.
«The man survived open-heart surgery less than a week ago, and he’s already discussing international finance,» Dr. Weber complained when I encountered him in the hallway.
«Perhaps next time we should remove the workaholic tendencies along with the defective valve,» I laughed.
«I suspect those tendencies are hardwired deeper than his cardiac issues.»
«Then you understand him well already,» the doctor observed with a shrewd glance before continuing on his rounds.
The comment lingered with me as I made my way to Alexander’s suite for what had become our daily afternoon conversation—ostensibly to monitor my recovery as a donor, but in reality, a mutual respite from our respective situations. Today, I found him sitting up in a reclining chair rather than his bed, color gradually returning to his gaunt features.
«You look stronger,» I remarked, taking my usual seat beside him.
«Appearances can be deceiving,» he replied wryly, «but yes, progress is being made, thanks in no small part to your golden contribution.»
«How are things with David?» I asked, noting the stack of financial reports on his side table, clearly his son’s doing.
Alexander’s expression tightened almost imperceptibly. «David is being David, efficiently managing the family business while simultaneously reminding me of my mortality and his readiness to assume control.»
«He seems concerned about your welfare,» I offered diplomatically.
«And about my relationship with you,» Alexander added bluntly. «He took me aside yesterday to express concern that I might be—how did he phrase it—developing ‘inappropriate attachments due to medical vulnerability.'»
Heat rushed to my face. «He implied something similar to me.»
«I apologize for my son’s presumption. David sees the world primarily through the lens of risk management and asset protection.» His tone was matter-of-fact, but I detected a hint of regret beneath it. «A trait he inherited from me, I’m afraid.»
«You seem to have developed other perspectives,» I observed.
«Nothing clarifies one’s priorities quite like facing death.» He adjusted his position slightly, wincing at the movement. «Speaking of clarity, I’ve been thinking about your situation upon returning to Chicago.»
The abrupt change of subject caught me off guard. «My situation?»
«Your ex-husband’s legal maneuvering, your professional future, your daughter’s education.» He gestured to a folder on his table. «I’ve taken the liberty of having Blackwood research some options.»
I stiffened. «I don’t recall asking for assistance beyond our original agreement.»
Alexander studied me, his gaze sharp despite his weakened state. «You’re offended.»
«I’m surprised,» I corrected, though he wasn’t entirely wrong. «I’m capable of managing my own affairs.»
«Of course you are. But why struggle unnecessarily when I have resources that might prove useful?» He pushed the folder toward me. «Consider it repayment of a debt that extends beyond our financial arrangement.»
I hesitated, torn between pride and practicality. Finally, curiosity won out, and I opened the folder. Inside were several documents: an analysis of Illinois divorce law regarding separation agreements and subsequently discovered assets, information about an exclusive arts college in Europe with a renowned architecture program, and most surprisingly, a detailed business plan for a consultation firm specializing in crisis recovery for businesses facing catastrophic setbacks.
«What is this?» I asked, holding up the business plan.
«An idea sparked by our conversations.» Alexander’s expression remained neutral, but I detected a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. «You have a unique perspective—someone who built a successful business, experienced a catastrophic failure, and is now rebuilding. That knowledge is valuable.»
I flipped through the meticulously prepared projections, market analysis, and potential client profiles. The concept was compelling: using my experience to help other businesses navigate crises and recovery. A way to transform my personal disaster into professional wisdom.
«This is thorough,» I said finally, unsure how to feel about him developing such a detailed plan without my knowledge.
«I have excellent analysts,» he replied simply, «and considerable experience recognizing untapped potential.»
«Is that what I am? Untapped potential?» The question came out more sharply than I intended.
«You’re many things, Harper Bennett,» he said quietly, «most of which have nothing to do with business opportunities or blood type.»
The air between us shifted, charged with unspoken currents. Before I could respond, a knock at the door announced the arrival of Dr. Weber for Alexander’s scheduled examination. Relieved and frustrated in equal measure by the interruption, I excused myself, taking the folder with me.
Back in my suite, I spread the contents across the coffee table, examining each document more carefully. The divorce analysis confirmed what my own attorney had suggested: Gavin’s claim on the Richter payment was tenuous at best, especially given the explicit division of assets in our separation agreement. The information about the arts college revealed it offered a scholarship program for international students with exceptional portfolios, something Mia might qualify for with her remarkable design work.
But it was the business plan that kept drawing my attention. Eventuality Consulting—the proposed name, with the tagline: Beyond Crisis Management. The concept was elegant in its simplicity, leveraging my experience to help businesses navigate catastrophic setbacks—not just surviving, but emerging stronger.
Had Alexander somehow extracted this vision from our conversations, or had he recognized something in me that I hadn’t yet acknowledged in myself? The thought was both flattering and unsettling.
My phone rang, interrupting my contemplation. It was Mia.
«Mom, have you checked your email today?» she asked without preamble, excitement vibrating in her voice.
«No, why?»
«I got the strangest message from the International College of Design in Geneva. They’re inviting me to submit my portfolio for a full scholarship program. They said they’re expanding their search for exceptional North American talent and got my name from a recommendation.» Her voice dropped to a near whisper. «Did you have something to do with this?»
I glanced at the college brochure still lying open on my table. «Not directly,» I hedged.
«Was it him? Mr. Richter?» Mia was too perceptive by half. «Mom, is something going on between you two?»
«He’s a patient whose life I helped save through a biological coincidence,» I replied, avoiding the question. «And he’s apparently prone to grand gestures of gratitude.»
«Uh-huh.» Mia’s skepticism was evident even across an ocean. «Well, whatever’s happening, I’m submitting my portfolio. This school is incredible; their architecture program is ranked among the top five globally.»
After we hung up, I sat staring at the business plan again. Alexander’s «grand gesture» was far more than mere gratitude. He had offered not just financial compensation, but a potential future for Mia and for me—a path forward that built upon my past rather than trying to erase it.
The question was: why? What did Alexander Richter gain from investing in my future beyond our blood arrangement? Was this another business transaction to him? A philanthropy project? Or something more personal that neither of us was quite ready to name?
As twilight settled over the Alps, turning the snow-capped peaks to gold and then dusky purple, I made a decision. Tomorrow, I would confront Alexander about his motivations and perhaps finally examine my own.
The next morning, I awoke to a text from Andrea: Emergency with AR overnight. Stable now, but rough few hours. Thought you should know.
My heart stuttered as I immediately called her. «What happened?»
«Post-surgical complication,» she explained. «Fluid around the heart. They had to perform an emergency procedure to drain it. He’s okay now, but it was touch and go for a while.»
«Why didn’t anyone call me?» I demanded, already pulling clothes from the closet.
A slight pause. «He specifically asked them not to disturb you. That stubborn, infuriating man.»
I dressed quickly and made my way to the medical wing, where I found David pacing outside his father’s room, looking rumpled and exhausted in what were clearly yesterday’s clothes.
«Mrs. Bennett,» he acknowledged stiffly. «I’m surprised they notified you.»
«They didn’t,» I replied, choosing not to elaborate on my source. «How is he?»
«Stabilized. Dr. Weber says the immediate danger has passed.» A muscle twitched in David’s jaw. «Father is asking for you, actually. Has been since he regained consciousness, despite my presence at his bedside all night.»
The thinly veiled resentment in his tone might have offended me a week ago. Now, I simply felt sympathy for this young man watching his formidable father’s mortality manifest so starkly, while simultaneously feeling replaced in the sickroom by a stranger.
«Your father values you greatly,» I said, softening my tone. «He spoke just yesterday about your exceptional management of the Asian operations.»
Surprise flickered across David’s face before his professional mask returned. «Did he?»
«He did,» I confirmed, «though he also mentioned your shared tendency to see the world primarily through risk assessment and asset protection.»
A reluctant smile tugged at David’s lips. «That sounds like Father.»
«Perhaps we could both visit him,» I suggested, an olive branch of sorts. «I’m sure he’d appreciate seeing us cooperate rather than compete for his attention.»
David studied me with new interest, reminding me strongly of his father’s penetrating gaze. «You’re not what I expected, Mrs. Bennett. Harper.»
«Please. And what did you expect?»
«Someone more… opportunistic.» He had the grace to look slightly embarrassed. «Your situation made you seem potentially predatory.»
«My situation? A middle-aged woman with sudden financial troubles, suddenly valuable to a wealthy man?» He shrugged apologetically. «You must admit, from an outside perspective…»
«…it looked like I was taking advantage of your vulnerable father,» I finished for him. «Despite the fact that I came into this situation completely unaware of my blood’s value and your father’s team sought me out, not the other way around.»
David had the decency to look abashed. «When you put it that way…»
«Let’s go see your father,» I said, ending the uncomfortable conversation. «I have a few choice words for him about not notifying me of medical emergencies.»
Alexander looked alarmingly frail, his skin ashen against the white hospital linens, various tubes and monitors once again attached to his body. But his eyes remained sharp, lighting with something that might have been pleasure when he saw me enter with David.
«A united front,» he observed, his voice weaker than yesterday but still carrying that sardonic edge. «Should I be concerned?»
«Absolutely,» I replied, taking the chair beside his bed while David remained standing. «We formed an alliance to enforce proper rest and recovery protocols, which apparently you’ve been ignoring.»
«Physician, heal thyself,» David added with unexpected warmth. «Or at least listen to your actual physicians.»
Alexander’s gaze moved between us, assessing. «An interesting development.»
«What’s interesting,» I countered, «is that you specifically requested I not be notified about your medical emergency. Care to explain?»
A shadow of his usual wry smile appeared. «You needed your rest, and there was nothing you could have done.»
«That’s not your decision to make,» I said firmly. «Not after everything we’ve been through.»
David cleared his throat. «I should give you two some privacy.»
«No, stay,» Alexander said, surprising us both. «What I need to discuss concerns both of you.» He shifted slightly, wincing. «Last night’s episode was a reminder of my mortality, more acute than I’d prefer. There are matters I need to address, contingencies to arrange.»
«Father, you’re going to recover fully,» David insisted, moving closer to the bed.
«Eventually, perhaps. But recovery is clearly more complicated than we anticipated.» Alexander’s gaze fixed on me. «Harper, regarding the business proposal I showed you yesterday… I’d like to expedite it.»
«Expedite it?» I repeated, confused.
«Richter Banking Group has numerous clients who have faced catastrophic setbacks—financial, reputational, operational. Your experience could be invaluable to them.» He glanced at David. «I’ve allocated initial funding for Eventuality Consulting as a subsidiary venture, with David overseeing the financial structure while you develop the methodology and client approach.»
