Chapter 3

Sophia's POV

Three days later.

I'd been at home enduring the excruciating pain from stomach cancer, unable to even drink water, when Evan's bodyguards forcibly dragged me out of bed.

Clara had developed acute appendicitis with abdominal infection after returning to the country and struggling to adjust. While not critically urgent, she needed immediate minimally invasive surgery.

Evan pulled every string he had, summoning the hospital director to Clara's room and demanding that I perform the operation.

And then Evan grabbed me by the throat and threatened me: "If you dare pull anything on the operating table, I'll throw your brother out of that care facility and make him beg on the streets!"

That was my only weak spot.

Ten minutes later, I was forced into surgical scrubs and stood before the operating table.

The surgical lights blazed on, harsh and cold against my pale face. I endured the spasms in my stomach, making each incision and suture with extreme precision. Drawing on my exceptional professional skill, the surgery was a complete success, the incision sutured flawlessly.

But two hours after the surgery ended, urgent alarms suddenly blared from Clara's VIP room.

Clara had developed a severe allergic reaction. Her entire body broke out in red hives, her breathing became rapid, and she even experienced brief shock.

When I dragged my weakened body to the hospital room, Evan stood there, eyes bloodshot, staring at the emergency monitors.

They pulled up the security footage. The video showed that in the ten minutes before Clara's allergic reaction, only one person had entered her room: me. I'd changed her IV drip.

"You did this." Evan spun around, charging at me like an enraged beast.

"I didn't. That was normal saline..." I tried to explain.

Slap!

A resounding slap struck my face, cutting off all my words.

The tremendous force sent me stumbling backward several steps until my back slammed hard against the cold wall. My mouth instantly filled with a strong metallic taste. My ears rang. Everything went black for a moment.

"You vicious woman! Can't you stand to see Clara happy? Do you have to kill her?!" Evan's roar echoed through the hospital corridor, drawing stares from surrounding medical staff.

I covered my swollen cheek. Blood trickled from the corner of my mouth down my pale chin. I looked at this man I'd loved for ten years, and the last glimmer of light in my eyes extinguished completely.

"I told you, I didn't do it." My voice was eerily calm.

"Still lying! If anything happens to Clara, you'll pay with your life!"

Just then, the emergency doctor rushed out. "Mr. Blake, Miss Clara's condition is critical. She's lost too much blood and needs an urgent transfusion, but she has extremely rare RH-negative blood. The blood bank doesn't have enough!"

Evan's head snapped around, his gaze like a poisoned blade fixed on me.

He knew I also had RH-negative blood.

"Draw from her." Evan pointed at me, his tone utterly devoid of warmth, as if designating a spare blood bag from storage. "Draw until Clara is out of danger."

"Evan, I have severe anemia!" I jerked my head up, finally showing a trace of emotion in my eyes. I'd hidden the cancer, but the anemia was real.

"That's what you owe her!" Evan grabbed my wrist and dragged me mercilessly toward the blood collection room, forcing me down into the chair.

The cold needle pierced my vein. Bright red blood flowed steadily through the transparent tube.

200cc, 300cc, 400cc...

My vision started blurring. The warmth drained from my body bit by bit. I leaned back in the chair, watching my life's essence flow into another woman, a bitter smile twisting my lips.

I owed Clara? No. I only owed myself liberation.