Elena's POV

When I woke, the sky outside was already fading to dusk.

My body felt hollowed out. Even breathing brought a faint sting.

The ceiling was an unfamiliar white.

It took me a few seconds to realize I'd been moved to a guest room.

My wrist was wrapped in thick bandages. The air carried a faint smell of blood.

"You're awake?"

Jason's voice came from the direction of the sofa.

I turned my head slowly.

He was leaning back, flipping through documents, perfectly composed — as if the person who'd drained half my life just hours ago hadn't been him.

When he saw me looking, he closed the folder and stood.

"The physician says it's just blood loss. You'll live."

His tone was flat, like he was reporting the weather.

I didn't speak. My throat was so dry it burned. I coughed twice.

Jason walked to the bedside and held out a glass of water.

I didn't take it. He didn't push. He set it back down, looking faintly uncomfortable.

"Vicky just woke up."

A beat of silence.

His voice held a barely perceptible gentleness.

"She feels guilty. Says she shouldn't have taken so much."

Jason watched me, as if waiting for something.

I just stared at the ceiling. No response.

He frowned.

"She's actually a good person. Just exhausted from the pregnancy. That's why she wanted your blood so badly. She went a little overboard."

His eyes stayed on my face as he spoke, searching, testing.

In the past, words like that would have broken me.

I'd once lost control completely — screamed at him, shattered the glass coffee table with my bare hands.

I'd stood there with blood running down my fingers, crying, interrogating him.

"Jason, why do you treat me like this?"

"Did you ever love me?"

"Or was I just a joke from the very beginning?"

I'd been half out of my mind, clinging to him like a last straw, desperate to hear even a shred of an answer.

But Jason had just stood there, watching me with eyes that held none of the warmth they once had.

"Love?"

He turned the word over like it tasted strange.

Then he scoffed.

"Elena, I think you've misunderstood something."

"I never needed a human wife."

His gaze dropped to my flat stomach, cold as a blade.

"What I needed was an heir. A woman who could carry and bear my child."

"As for you—"

He paused.

As if searching for the right word.

Then, with devastating casualness:

"You're just a trouble my grandfather left behind."

After that day, I never asked him again.

Now, Jason was still watching me, waiting for the familiar reaction.

Anger. Jealousy. Devastation.

He liked seeing me fall apart. He savored my pain, as if the years we'd spent as childhood sweethearts had never existed.

But I gave him nothing. I just said, quietly:

"That's great. Vicky suits you. I know she's always been in love with you."

Jason blinked, clearly caught off guard.

"What?"

I turned to look at him.

My voice was so calm that even I found it strange.

"You two should be together. Don't waste what you have. I'm fine. I won't die. Go take care of her."

His frown deepened.

This wasn't the reaction he was used to.

After a long silence, he said, "What kind of tantrum is this?"

I shook my head. My fingers twitched, then strained to reach the glass of water. I brought it to my lips, weak and trembling.

Jason stared at me for a long time. Then, suddenly, something seemed to cross his mind.

"By the way — Grandfather is coming back for his birthday celebration."

"He says he hasn't seen the younger members of the family in a long time."

Jason straightened his cuffs and rose from the edge of my bed, his voice settling back into its usual chill.

"There'll be many guests. I need you to handle the invitation list and prepare a gift."

I froze for a second, then struggled to sit up. "But we're getting divorced."

Jason's hands stilled.

Then he moved to the head of the bed and pressed down on my shoulders, leaning over me.

He looked down at me, a glint of mockery in his eyes.

"Until I sign, you're still Mrs. Vanderloom."

"So be good. Grandfather adores you. Keep him happy, and it'll work in your favor."

He straightened up.

"Isn't that convenient? Once the celebration is over, I'll sign the divorce papers."

He studied me for a moment, then added with a contemptuous smirk:

"Not that it matters. You'll be begging me not to divorce you by then. Why bother with this act, Elena?"

The room was quiet for a long time.

I slowly closed my eyes. I had no energy left to argue.

After a moment, I said softly, "Fine."

"I'll prepare a gift. I'll make sure Grandfather has a good birthday."

Jason nodded, clearly satisfied.

He turned to leave, reaching out of habit to pat the top of my head — but I tilted away before he could.

The moment the door closed behind him, I finally allowed myself a small smile.

If he wouldn't let me go, then I'd stay. I'd give the Vanderloom patriarch the birthday celebration of a lifetime.

And I would give Jason a gift he'd never forget.

Elena's POV

I waited until the sound of footsteps disappeared down the corridor before picking up my phone.

The screen barely lit up before the other end answered — as if he'd been waiting by the phone.

I explained that I needed to stay until after the patriarch's birthday. The voice on the other end was tight with worry and frustration.

It wasn't until I promised — repeatedly — that I would leave with him, that the man on the line finally calmed down.

After I hung up, I leaned back against the headboard. When I'd first reached out to him behind Jason's back, I'd felt a strange, misplaced guilt.

But now — now that the other woman had moved in and was literally drinking my blood — that guilt evaporated in an instant.

Two days later, my body had recovered enough to function.

The estate buzzed with preparations for the patriarch's celebration, and every tedious detail was dumped on me.

I spent nearly every day on the phone. Some calls were about the event. Others were to soothe the man who grew more restless with each passing day.

Meanwhile, Jason and Vicky went out every night and didn't return until the small hours, always making a point of waking me with their affection on full display. I couldn't have cared less.

I was busier than ever. Sometimes I'd be typing replies on my phone even while Jason was in the room.

When I finally looked up, I found him staring at me. I had no idea how long he'd been watching.

That heavy, searching gaze made my skin crawl.

I was about to leave when Vicky materialized behind him, wrapping herself around his arm.

"Jason."

Her voice was syrupy, her chest pressed deliberately against him.

"You haven't spent any time with me today."

She'd clearly bounced back — spirits high, belly rounded, preening like a pampered cat.

Jason didn't push her away. He just looked at me, his tone flat. "You've been busy lately."

I nodded. "The celebration takes a lot of preparation."

Vicky's smile widened. "Funny — I've noticed Elena's been getting a lot of calls and texts."

She tilted her head, her pupils tinged red, her gaze a provocation. "Jason, don't you think that's odd?"

Jason was silent for a moment. Then: "Give me your phone."

The air went still.

I looked at him — at Vicky practically fused to his side — and slowly smiled.

"Jason, are you seriously accusing me of cheating?"

Every servant in the corridor froze.

I held his gaze, my voice unhurried.

"You got another woman pregnant, and now you want to check my phone?"

"What — afraid I might find someone too? That I might bring a man home, just like you did?"

Vicky's face twisted. "Shut up!"

Her hand flew toward my face.

I saw it coming. I simply reached up and caught her wrist in midair.

The corridor went dead silent.

Vicky stared, clearly not expecting me to fight back.

Jason's expression darkened. He pulled Vicky to his side and turned to me.

"Let go."

I released her.

Vicky retreated into Jason's arms, eyes brimming red.

"Jason, she just—"

"Enough."

His voice was frigid.

He wasn't looking at her. His eyes were locked on me.

"When she tried to hit you just now — why didn't you look at me?"

I blinked.

Jason went on: "You used to run to me the second something happened."

His voice dropped low, as if he was barely holding something back. "Why didn't you ask me for help?"

I looked at him and asked, quietly: "Would it have made a difference?"

Jason's expression shattered.

Elena's POV

The air felt like it had turned to stone.

Jason's breathing grew ragged. Fury flooded his pupils, turning them blood-red — the way a vampire's instincts betrayed them when emotions ran too high.

Those crimson eyes looked just like blood.

That color always dragged me back to my parents' final moments. And Vicky — she loved wearing red. Months ago, her red dresses floating around the estate had given me nightmares every night.

I flinched instinctively. The aversion was reflexive, bone-deep.

Jason caught it. His expression froze, and his gaze locked onto me.

I stiffened too.

Because this moment was painfully familiar.

On our wedding night, I'd seen his true form for the first time.

Red eyes. Sharp fangs. He'd been holding me, trying to say something.

I'd pushed him away, stepped back, and turned to clutch a pillow, forcing down the terror, desperate to hide my weakness.

I was still in love with him then. I didn't want him to know how badly my parents' death had scarred me. I didn't want him carrying that guilt.

I'd believed that as long as we had each other, we'd find our way through the darkness.

But after that night, he became a different person.

I couldn't find a single trace of love left in his eyes.

From that day on, Jason became my new nightmare.