Five years of love, and in his eyes, it didn't even measure up to a business deal.

I clenched my teeth against the searing pain and pointed at the door.

"Get out."

Wallace froze.

He'd never heard me use that tone before. I'd always been the one to accommodate him, to soothe him, to smooth things over.

"Fine, Georgette. You've got nerve." Wallace laughed, the kind of laugh that came from pure fury. "Let's see how long that backbone lasts!"

"When you can't pay your medical bills and they throw you out on the street, don't come crawling to me!"

He grabbed Lola's hand and walked out without looking back.

Lola turned at the doorway, her eyes gleaming with undisguised satisfaction.

The room fell quiet again.

I was shaking from the pain. I pressed the call button on the bed rail.

A nurse rushed in and gave me an injection. Only then did the agony ease enough for me to breathe.

The next morning, my attending physician came to see me. His expression was grim.

"Miss Henson, your health insurance and medical card have both been suspended."

I stared at him.

"On top of that, your condition has deteriorated. You need an imported specialty drug immediately." He paused. "It's extremely expensive, and there's only one dose available in the entire city."

I pulled out my bank card. "Use my own funds. There's two million dollars in this account."

The doctor shook his head.

"The drug is no longer available. Someone already bought it."

My mind went blank. "What do you mean?"

He let out a heavy sigh. "This morning, someone pulled strings and had the city's only dose of the drug picked up. Apparently it was for a patient with a scrape."

A scrape.

A life-saving drug, used on a scrape.

Wallace. It had to be Wallace.

In this city, only he had the resources to pull something like that, and only he had a reason to target me right now.

I forced myself upright and ripped the IV needle from the back of my hand. Blood beaded on my skin, but I didn't care.

I stumbled toward the door.

I couldn't die. Not yet. I hadn't lived enough. I hadn't watched the people who destroyed me get what they deserved.

I took a cab to Wallace's private estate.

The front gate was open.

I made it to the living room entrance and heard laughter drifting out from inside.

"Wallace, you're so sweet." Lola's voice, syrupy and adoring. "I just bumped my knee a little, and you had someone bring me the most expensive drug in the whole city."

Wallace chuckled, his tone impossibly gentle. "As long as you're okay. It's just medicine."

I pushed the door open and stared at them, my blood running cold.

Lola was perched on the sofa. On her knee was a single Band-Aid.

Wallace sat beside her, carefully peeling grapes and feeding them to her one by one.

When he saw me, his expression darkened.

"What are you doing here?"

I pointed at the Band-Aid on Lola's knee. My voice shook.

"You took my life-saving medication and used it on a scraped knee?"

Wallace scoffed. "Life-saving medication? Georgette, are you addicted to the theatrics?"

"Lola is a dancer. She can't have scars on her legs. That drug is excellent for scar prevention, so I bought it for her. What's the problem?"

I was trembling with rage. "That drug is for treating stomach cancer, not preventing scars!"

"Wallace, have you completely lost your mind?"

Lola ducked behind Wallace, putting on a frightened little act. "Georgette, please don't be so scary."

"It's just a box of medicine." She stepped out again, her fear evaporating as quickly as it had appeared. "I'll pay you for it."

She pulled a thick stack of cash from her purse and walked up to me.

"Here. This should be enough to buy you ten boxes, right?"

She opened her fingers.

The bills fluttered to the floor around my feet.

"Oops." She pressed a hand to her lips, eyes wide with mock innocence. "Butterfingers."

"You don't even have a job anymore, Georgette. Better pick those up while you can."

She covered her mouth and giggled.

I stared at the money scattered on the ground, my stomach churning violently.

A mouthful of blood surged up and out.

It splattered across Lola's white dress.

"Ahh!"

Lola shrieked and stumbled backward. "You psycho! That's disgusting!"

Wallace shot to his feet. When he saw the blood, something flickered in his eyes—panic, maybe. But it vanished just as fast, replaced by that familiar coldness.

"Georgette, you're actually coughing up blood now to guilt me into giving in?"

"You think this is going to make me feel sorry for you?"

I pressed a hand to my chest and sank to the floor, too weak to stay upright. My vision darkened at the edges.

"Wallace, give me the medicine..."

My voice came out thin, barely there.

"I'm really... I can't hold on much longer..."

Wallace walked over and stood above me, looking down.

"You want the medicine? Fine."

"Apologize to Lola. Promise me you'll go back to the office tomorrow and close the Ward deal."

"Then I'll give it to you."

I looked up at him. Tears and blood ran together down my chin. The taste was metallic and sweet.

This was the man I'd loved for five years.

He'd sacrifice my life for Lola's scraped knee.

I closed my eyes and forced out two words with everything I had left.

"In your dreams."

Wallace's composure shattered.

"Fine! Then go ahead and die!"

He grabbed me by the collar and dragged me toward the door.

"Don't stain my carpet!"

I tumbled down the front steps.

The door slammed shut in my face.

Rain hammered against my skin.

Cold. So cold.

My consciousness started to slip.

Just as I thought I was going to die in the rain, a pair of black leather shoes stopped in front of me.

I forced my eyes open. Through the blur, all I could make out was a tall silhouette.

A man, holding a black umbrella.

He crouched down. Long fingers pressed against my neck, checking my pulse.

"Still alive."

His voice was low, laced with authority.

"Take her."

I blacked out.

When I came to, I was lying in a soft bed. The room around me was lavish. I caught the faint scent of agarwood.

"Awake?"

That same low voice, right beside the bed.

I turned my head and saw the man from the rain.

He wore a tailored suit, every feature sharp and defined.

"Who are you? Where am I?"

I tried to sit up, only to realize I was hooked to an IV line.

"Dennis Delgado."

Three syllables. That was all he offered.

I froze.

Dennis Delgado. The man who controlled a multinational medical empire.

Why would he save me?

"You were dying."

Dennis tossed a medical chart onto the bed in front of me.

"Late-stage stomach cancer. Malnourished, compounded by acute physical trauma. Three days, at most."

A bitter laugh escaped me.

"I know."

"The medicine was taken. I couldn't afford more."

Dennis studied me, one brow lifting slightly.

"One vial of medicine, and you were willing to let yourself be destroyed over it?"

He snapped his fingers.

The door swung open. More than a dozen doctors in white coats filed into the room.

"This is a specialized oncology team." Dennis gestured toward them.

"From this moment on, your life is in my hands."

I stared at him, stunned.

"Why? We're strangers. You owe me nothing."

Dennis leaned in close, his lips near my ear.

"Because you have something I want."

"The core technology behind the Ward deal. That's your work."

My pupils contracted.

He even knew about that.

"Help me secure that technology, and I'll give you your life back."

Dennis straightened, looking down at me.

"It's a good deal."

I gritted my teeth.

"Fine. I accept."

Just then, a commotion erupted outside the door.

"What do you think you're doing? Do you have any idea who I am? I'm Wallace Gilbert!"

"My fiancée is in there! Let me in!"

Wallace's voice.

My brow furrowed, my stomach churning.

Dennis glanced at me, his eyes cold as steel.

"You attract a lot of trouble."

He turned and walked out.

I forced myself upright and peered through the crack in the door.

The corridor was swarming with bodyguards, forming a wall around the entrance. The hospital director stood off to the side, too intimidated to speak.

Wallace had brought Lola with him. He was shoving against the bodyguards, trying to force his way through.

"Get out of my way! I need to see Georgette!"

He was shouting at the top of his lungs.

He'd been losing his mind for the past two days. Sebastian Ward had pulled out of the partnership, and the company was staring down a massive breach-of-contract penalty. The cash flow had dried up completely.

He'd been searching everywhere for me and had finally tracked me here.

Lola chimed in from beside him.

"Wallace, your ex probably ran to a place like this because some rich man is keeping her as a mistress."

The words had barely left her mouth when Dennis stepped out.

Wallace froze.

"Mr... Mr. Delgado?"

His tone shifted instantly, dripping with flattery.

"What are you doing here?"

Dennis didn't look at him. His gaze settled on Lola.

"You just said she's being kept as a mistress?"

Lola flinched, stammering.

"I... I was just..."

A sharp crack echoed through the corridor.

One of Dennis's bodyguards stepped forward and backhanded Lola across the face.

She hit the floor, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth.

Wallace panicked.

"Mr. Delgado! What is this?"

Dennis looked at him, his expression frigid.

"You stopped her medication?"

Wallace's face went white. Sweat poured down his temples.

"I didn't know it was keeping her alive..."

Dennis let out a cold laugh.

"Good to know."

"Starting tomorrow, every hospital in this country will refuse to treat you or this woman."

"You're both blacklisted from the medical system."

Wallace's knees buckled. He dropped to the floor with a heavy thud.

"Mr. Delgado! Please, have mercy! I swear I didn't know Georgette was that sick!"

Dennis didn't spare him another glance. He turned and walked back into the room.

"Prep for surgery."