My Blood for Her Life, My Death for His Regret

Mom spent the whole afternoon preparing a table full of dishes, waiting for Richard Foster to come home for their tenth wedding anniversary.

But instead, he brought back Olivia Grant and her daughter, and told us to move into the guest room.

Mom’s eyes reddened with anger and grief, but Richard locked her away in fury.

“Olivia, from now on, you are the lady of this suburban mansion. This is the home for you and Emily.”

That sentence marked the beginning of my nightmare.

When Richard wasn’t around, Olivia would help her daughter steal my toys, even force me to bark like a dog.

When I refused, they threw me into a wildlife park to “learn a lesson.”

I was bitten by a venomous snake and rushed to the hospital, nearly losing my life.

Richard sneered, “You’ve been pampered since birth, can’t endure the slightest hardship. It’s time you toughened up.”

Before my body even recovered, he dragged me to the hospital again—this time to give blood to Olivia’s daughter.

I clutched at his sleeve. “Daddy, Sophie’s blood is almost gone… Sophie just wants to sleep…”

But he coldly shook me off.

“I told you, call me ‘uncle.’ Emily doesn’t like hearing anyone else call me ‘dad.’ It makes her unhappy.”

Later, I drifted into deep sleep.

And then that man knelt in front of me, his voice hoarse with tears:

“Sophie, Daddy was wrong. Please… open your eyes and look at me just once more…”

…

“Linda Summers, do you really think you’re still the lady of the Foster family?”

“I’ll say it one more time—give Emily Sophie’s room. It has the best sunlight, and Emily likes it.”

Richard’s brows knitted, anger flashing between his eyes.

Just moments before, Mom had worked tirelessly preparing the anniversary dinner.

I had wanted to sneak a bite, but she insisted we wait for Richard.

Yet the moment he walked through the door, he threw the entire table of food into the trash. Plates and ceramic shattered across the floor.

“I told you Olivia is allergic to strawberries. How dare you prepare them for dinner?”

I looked at him in confusion—the man in a sharp suit, tall and commanding.

Everyone said he was a titan in the business world.

But he didn’t even know that his real daughter’s favorite fruit was strawberries.

At that moment, he stood beside that mother and daughter, glaring at me and Mom with disgust, as if they were the real family.

Olivia was the old flame he had chased overseas for years.

Emily was her daughter from her divorce, about five or six years old—about the same age as me.

When I glanced longingly at the strawberries on the floor, she stomped them underfoot twice with cruelty.

She glared at me. “Street rat. Even crushed, you’re not allowed to eat them!”

I froze.

The next second, Emily smirked and hurled the mashed strawberries straight into my face.

Mom pulled me protectively into her arms, her eyes cold as she glared back. “Apologize.”

Emily scoffed, her nose practically pointing to the sky.

Mom tightened her grip on my hand and repeated firmly, “Apologize to my daughter.”

Emily suddenly shrieked, “Daddy! The mean woman bullied me!”

Richard’s brows furrowed as he bent down to scoop her up.

“Daddy won’t let anyone hurt you.”

Then he looked up coldly. “Linda, are you really picking fights with a child?”

“Emily is just a little mischievous. Kids love to play—it’s in their nature. Do you think everyone has to be like your daughter Sophie, some stiff block of wood?”

Mom’s whole body trembled. I felt miserable too.

Richard never liked me. Other kids had their dads at parent-teacher meetings, but he never once showed up for mine.

I always thought it was because I hadn’t done well enough—that I had upset him somehow.