Chapter 1

I spent two years as a human guinea pig for three pharmaceutical companies while selling my blood three times a week at a private blood bank.

I finally scraped together the 800,000 dollars for my daughter's bone marrow transplant.

But on the day the hospital tried to deduct the surgical deposit, my account balance read zero.

At the same time, a new post appeared on the Instagram of my husband's first love, Tiffany.

Thanks to a certain someone for buying me this ruby bracelet~ It's a one-of-a-kind piece from the auction house worth $800,000, but all I have to do is show the slightest interest and he'll buy it for me~

That day, I called Abner ninety-nine times.

He didn't pick up. All he sent was one cold message:

Tiffany had a heart episode. I was just comforting her. Angel's not going to die from waiting a few more days.

I'll have the hospital schedule the surgery next month.

But Angel didn't make it to next month.

At three in the morning, she died in my arms.

I held my daughter's body and sent him one final message.

Abner, I want a divorce.

...

It was already dark by the time I walked out of the private blood bank.

The crook of my arm was riddled with needle marks—ugly, angry, grotesque.

Two years.

Between selling blood and enrolling in high-risk clinical trials at three different pharmaceutical companies, I had finally scraped together the 800,000-dollar deposit for Angel's bone marrow transplant.

My fingers trembled violently as I transferred the money into the designated account.

The pain and weakness from chronic blood loss crashed over me in waves, but in that moment, the only thing I felt was hope.

Yet the first call that came wasn't the hospital telling me Angel's surgery was a success. It was a nurse on the line:

"Mrs. Anna, the deposit deduction failed. Insufficient account balance."

I froze. Fumbling, I opened my banking app.

The number on the screen was a clean, merciless zero.

Then I saw the new post on Tiffany's Instagram.

Thanks to a certain someone for buying me this ruby bracelet~ It's a one-of-a-kind piece from the auction house worth $800,000, but all I have to do is show the slightest interest and he'll buy it for me~

In the photo, a blood-red bracelet sat delicately against her slender wrist.

I nearly lost my mind.

The money I'd earned selling my own blood—my husband had taken it, without a word to me, to buy jewelry for his mistress.

That was my daughter's lifeline!

I called Abner.

He picked up quickly, his voice tired and impatient:

"It's Tiffany's birthday. She's been running herself ragged over the merger acquisition for the group, and today she worked herself into another heart episode. The least I can do is show some gratitude. Angel's condition isn't new—a few more days won't kill her. I'll arrange the surgery next month."

The hatred inside me drove me to the edge of collapse. I needed an explanation—I refused to let this go.

I screamed at him, demanding to know why he'd touched that account.

His tone was righteous, unapologetic: "You're my wife. What's yours is mine. What's the big deal if I use it? You—"

I hung up before he could finish. I had no strength left to fight.

Angel lay in her hospital bed, every strand of hair long gone, her small fingers tugging at my sleeve, her voice full of expectation.

"Mommy, when is Daddy coming? He promised to bring me that talking bunny doll…"

I held her, burying my face against her tiny shoulder, breathing in the smell of disinfectant and IV fluid and, underneath it all, a faint trace of warm, milky sweetness.

My eyes betrayed me and filled with tears.

They were the only answer I could give.

Just then, a text from Abner came through:

Anna, if Tiffany's father hadn't saved me and my dad back then, the Byron family would have been finished. I can't be ungrateful. You're my wife—why can't you just be understanding?

Tiffany's message followed right behind it—

Anna~ Abner says you're upset? I actually told him not to buy anything that expensive, but he insisted. You know how stubborn he is.

How about I ask him to return the bracelet? Oh wait, I don't think jewelry can be returned lol. Don't be mad~ Worst case I'll just give you the bracelet, though I'm not sure you'd still want it after it's been on me~

The double meaning was impossible to miss.

After all—wasn't Abner himself a man she'd already had her hands on?

I closed every message.

A notification from the clinical trial center popped up: Mrs. Anna, the Phase III drug trial you enrolled in enters its final stage next week. Based on your current health indicators, continued participation poses severe risk. We advise withdrawal.

I closed that too.

At three in the morning, Angel's cardiac monitor erupted in a shrill, piercing alarm.

When I rushed in, she managed a smile for me, slowly lifting her hand as if trying to reach for mine.

I knelt on the floor outside the resuscitation room, praying with every shred of my being, tears pouring down my face, my heart fracturing with every second.

They worked on her for forty minutes.

The doctor pulled down his mask and shook his head.

My world collapsed entirely.

I gathered my daughter's still-warm body into my arms and sat motionless until dawn, as though my soul had been hollowed out completely.

Every last trace of warmth inside me had gone cold.

I shifted my numb body and sent Abner one final message—

Abner, I want a divorce.