After the wedding, Blake Gilbert brought me back to the bridal suite and tormented me through the entire night.

By the next morning, a photo of me kneeling at his feet had gone viral.

When I confronted him in hysterics, he offered no explanation. He simply had his people strip me naked and drag me to my mother's hospital bed.

He watched with a cold smile as my mother convulsed uncontrollably at the sight.

"If your mother hadn't been a shameless homewrecker who drove Agatha's mother insane and got both her parents killed, Agatha never would've ended up an orphan, living off other people's charity!"

"Agatha spent ten years suffering from depression because of what your mother did. Every ounce of pain she endured, every bit of misery she went through — I'm going to make sure you and your mother feel all of it!"

Agatha Pruitt was his adoptive sister, not a single drop of shared blood between them.

So his undying devotion had never been real. It was revenge, meticulously planned from the start.

But what happened back then — my mother was the victim.

My mother vomited blood and died from the shock. He didn't show a shred of remorse. He just smiled and gripped my chin.

"Your mother got off easy, dying that quick. What she owed Agatha? That debt falls to you now."

To treat Agatha's depression, he used me as a test subject for experimental drugs and forced me to serve as her personal blood bank.

Five years of marriage. Five years of a living hell.

Until Agatha slit her wrists again and lost too much blood. She needed emergency transfusions.

He had me strapped down at the hospital. They drained nearly every drop of blood from my body.

When he saw me writhing in agony, he leaned down and held me.

"Elaine, just hold on a little longer. This is the last time."

"Once Agatha's better, we'll start over. You and me."

But what he didn't know was that five years of experimental drugs had destroyed every cell in my body.

I could no longer produce new blood.

The debt he claimed I owed — I would repay it with my life.

There would be no "starting over" for us. Not anymore.

——

I lay on the hospital bed, my body seizing, but my throat couldn't produce a single sound.

When no answer came, Blake stood up, irritation plain in his eyes.

He grabbed my wrist and wrenched me off the bed.

"Elaine Harding, how long are you going to keep up this act?"

"I've seen your medical report. Every single indicator came back normal. It's just a little blood draw. How much could it possibly hurt? Stop pretending to be fragile."

I collapsed face-down on the floor, too weak to even push myself up.

He'd seen my medical report — but he didn't know that every cell in my body had been destroyed.

The doctors had told me all my organs were failing.

Forget drawing blood. A common cold could kill me now.

I tried to explain, but a metallic sweetness flooded my throat.

Every organ inside me trembled with pain.

I gathered the last scrap of strength I had and clutched the hem of his trousers, my eyes begging.

"My mother was innocent. What happened back then — please, just look into it. Please."

I'd said those words countless times before.

Whenever the side effects of the drugs became unbearable, whenever I was rolling on the floor in agony, I would cry and beg him.

Every single time, he cut me off without mercy.

"Elaine Harding, if your mother was innocent, then what about Agatha's mother? Was she not innocent?"

"If your mother hadn't been shameless enough to drug Agatha's father and crawl into his bed, would Agatha's mother have gone mad enough to take him down with her?"

"Stop playing the victim. Agatha has been depressed for years, and it's all because of your family. Your mother is dead, so the debt is yours to pay."

He refused to believe a word I said. He just stared at me with that cold expression and forced me to keep taking the drugs.

Five years. Over a thousand different medications.

My body was covered in needle marks, so many they blurred together.

I'd served as a human blood bank more times than I could count.

After every session, I was so weak I couldn't leave the bed for half a month.

None of it mattered to him.

The only thing he cared about was whether Agatha Pruitt could be cured.

Even if the price was my life.

Perhaps the pain in my eyes was too obvious to miss.

A rare flicker of something like tenderness crossed Blake's face.

He leaned down and pulled me into his arms, his voice gentle.

"Elaine, just hold on a little longer. I promise, once Agatha recovers, I'll look into what really happened back then."

I looked up at him and smiled. A hollow, broken smile.

He didn't know yet. I couldn't wait that long.

The doctors had told me my bone marrow had nearly stopped producing blood. Once they drained what was left, I would die.

The moment I opened my mouth, a spray of blood foam came pouring out.

Panic flooded Blake's eyes. He was about to call for a doctor when his assistant burst through the door.

"Mr. Gilbert, Miss Pruitt is awake, but she's hysterical. She's threatening to slit her wrists again!"

One sentence. That was all it took for him to drop me back onto the floor without a second thought.

"Get every doctor to Agatha's room immediately. Have them on standby!"

He glanced down at me, already half-unconscious on the cold tiles.

"Send another nurse in here. Keep drawing Elaine's blood."

Nathan Voss's face twisted with discomfort.

"Sir, Mrs. Gilbert has already lost too much blood. If we keep going, something could happen."

Blake let out a barely perceptible scoff.

"She's always been tough as nails. Nothing's going to happen."

"Besides, this is what she and her mother owe Agatha."

"As long as Agatha pulls through, I'll send her abroad for treatment after she's discharged. As for Elaine, I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to her."

He didn't look at me again. His footsteps hurried down the hallway and faded.

The needle pierced my skin once more. I didn't struggle this time. I just closed my eyes, too exhausted to fight.

A bitter smile ghosted across my lips.

Blake, you won't get the chance to make it up to me.

Because once someone is dead, they don't need anything anymore.

The nurse tried everything, but my body had nothing left to give. Not a single drop.

She stared at the empty syringe, her face pale with alarm.

From outside the door came Blake's furious, impatient roar.

"What are you standing around for? Get that blood to Agatha's room, now!"

The nurse fumbled to pull the blanket over me, then stumbled out of the room.

"Mr. Gilbert, Miss Harding has lost too much blood. There's nothing left to draw!"

Blake frowned and let out a cold grunt.

"Nothing left? Then let her rest for a couple of days and try again."

The blanket covered my face. My consciousness was slipping, dissolving at the edges.

Even so, when I heard his words, I couldn't help but laugh. A cold, quiet laugh.

A couple of days?

He didn't know I wouldn't survive the next two hours.

My body had lost the ability to produce blood. At this rate of loss, I would slip into a coma and die within minutes.

When my consciousness finally scattered into nothing, I felt no sadness.

Only relief. The relief of someone who had finally been set free.

When I opened my eyes again, I was floating in midair.

Not far away was Agatha's room. The hallway outside it was packed with medical staff standing at attention, ready to respond at a moment's notice.

I watched Blake rush through the door, his face tight with worry, and my eyes burned.

Just a few steps away from where he stood, I had died in silence.

He hadn't cared. His heart, his eyes, his every thought belonged to his adoptive sister.

Blake knelt beside the hospital bed, cradling Agatha's face in both hands, his gaze full of anguish.

"Agatha, you're finally awake. You scared me half to death."

"Please, I'm begging you, don't ever do anything like that again."

His voice held a tenderness I had never once been given.

Agatha burst into tears, delicate as rain on pear blossoms.

"I'm fine. I just missed Mom and Dad so much."

The same act as always. The same performance.

For five years, every time Blake showed me even a shred of mercy, she would pull something like this and shove me right back into the abyss.

Agatha eyed the blood bags piled beside her hospital bed, a smug little smile curling at the corner of her lips.

She's dying to see me dead, yet the words that come out of her mouth are dripping with hypocrisy.

"Did Elaine donate a lot of blood for me again?"

"This is all my fault. I'm always causing trouble for everyone. She must have suffered so much because of me. Do you think she hates me?"

Blake patted her head, his eyes brimming with indulgence.

"She has no right to hate you! This is what she and her mother owe you!"

I hovered in midair, trembling uncontrollably.

Owed her? But what happened back then—my mother was the victim.

After my father died, Mom worked in a factory during the day and took a cashier job at a bar at night, just to support me. She was honest and hardworking, wanting nothing more than to give me the best life she could manage.

Working in a place like that, she was careful about everything. She wouldn't even wear anything other than the plainest clothes.

But none of that mattered. Someone still set his sights on her.

The man who assaulted her was Agatha's father.

When Mom fought back, he wrapped his hands around her throat and threatened to kill me.

To buy her silence, he gave her a check afterward.

Mom was too afraid to go to the police. She swallowed her pain in silence, and the weight of it dragged her into severe depression.

But in Blake's eyes, all of that became evidence that she had seduced the man on purpose.

He approached me deliberately, pursued me with everything he had.

On our wedding night, he said he wanted to try something exciting.

I was lost in the tenderness of his trap. I didn't refuse. I let him pose me however he wanted.

But the next morning, those intimate photos were everywhere online.

Overnight, I became a slut in everyone's eyes.

The shock sent Mom into cardiac arrest. She was rushed to the emergency room.

And what did he do? He had someone strip me naked and drag me to her bedside.

Mom was so enraged she coughed up blood. Blake just gripped my chin and smiled, cruel and unhurried.

"You love being a homewrecker so much? Then let the whole world see exactly how filthy the bastard daughter of a whore can be."

I sobbed and begged and explained, but none of it earned me an ounce of mercy.

Even after Mom died, he refused to let me go.

Five years. I was forced to take over a thousand different medications and donate blood more than a hundred times.

I went from a perfectly healthy person to a broken shell who couldn't survive without pills.

And all of it—every last bit of it—because of a few ambiguous words from Agatha's mouth.

How could I not hate them?

I lowered my gaze and looked at Blake's worried face. My smile turned cold.

Well, he got what he wanted in the end.

The debt he claimed I owed—I paid it back with my life.

But what about me?

Everything I suffered. The truth buried for all those years.

What was he going to pay me back with?

Perhaps remembering just how miserable these past few years had been for me, something rare flickered across Blake's eyes—a flash of emotion.

He glanced back toward my hospital room and smiled, calm and composed.

"Elaine's had a rough time. Consider it the daughter paying her mother's debt."

"All these years, for your sake, I never once showed her any affection. But your health is nearly back to normal now."

"Once you're discharged, I'll send you abroad to recuperate. It's about time I made a fresh start with her."

I couldn't help it. I laughed until tears spilled from my eyes.

A fresh start?

My body was probably already stiff and cold. How exactly did he plan to start fresh?

A flash of jealous hatred cut through Agatha's eyes.

But when she opened her mouth, her voice was as gentle and sweet as ever.

"Blake, I know that punishing Elaine so harshly all these years for my sake—the one who suffered the most was really you."

"I let go of what happened a long time ago. It's my fault Elaine went through so much. Once I'm discharged, I'll leave. Just promise me you'll make it up to her, okay?"