After He killed my Child, I took off the Good-Wife Mask.

I was still conscious as the needle was inserted and the essence of my life rapidly sucked away.

Tears streamed down my face as I begged Drake with my eyes, muttered with my lips that I was dying inside.

He stared at me through it all, feeling nothing.

The monitors screamed loudly, the doctors glanced at Drake, hoping he'd notice I was going.

Drake didn't blink.

“Is that enough? Take more.”

When the third pint was being taken, Drake touched my forehead.

“I admire your strength. Nothing ever gets to you. I can see in your eyes you can give one more pint.

“Sandra will be forever grateful. You can even name her child if you want.”

He said those words as if they would erase everything.

The inside of my body felt like I had swallowed larva, I squirmed in pure agony as I fought to stay alive.

I forced myself to speak.

“Drake, nothing on earth will stop me from destroying you. Nothing…”

He laughed and leaned close.

“Says an orphan whose life revolves around me. See this as paying Sandra back for your allegations.”

He turned to the doctors. “You mustn't all cluster here. She can be monitored by just a student nurse with no expertise.

“Remember, my wife has to be strong enough to be arrested. Give her a strong injection to boost her strength.”

He supervised as five pints of blood from me were taken to Sandra's ward.

I laid there, shivering and forcing myself to keep breathing, through sheer will.

Everything in me was dissolving. I couldn't understand how a man could be so heartless. Not just any man; the one who had got down on one knee and declared eternal love for me.

When my eyes closed, I thought I had died.

I woke up hours later to a doctor staring down at me.

“Sandra didn't want the blood, said she was just overwhelmed and thought she needed blood.”

I stared back at her, feeling nothing.

“We tried to put it back in you but Mr Drake refused. Said Sandra might need it later.”

The only blood running in my veins now was hatred, in its darkest, deadliest form.

“Due to the force, many of your internal blood vessels burst. You need to be here for at least a month —”

It wasn't the blood that caused the injuries. It was Drake stomping down on my stomach and chest because I slapped his lover.

The doctor was still speaking when two cops arrived.

They halted when they saw me.

“Are you… Elena Hallwood?” they asked with confusion.

I nodded and quietly put out my hands.

“Go on. Do your job.” My voice was barely audible.

They fidgeted with their notes. “There must be a mistake somewhere.”

Just then, Drake burst in she the room became hotter. When our eyes met, he jolted, as though he didn't expect I'd be alive.

He saw the paleness of my face, the redness of my eyes, the bones poking out of my collar and cheeks.

And for a moment I thought his heart had softened.

He sighed and turned to the cops.

“I wish there was a way I could prevent this, but it's off my power. Take her away.”

“You filed the arrest yourself, sir,” one cop sharply countered.

“We can't arrest a woman in this condition. She'll die on the way to the van,” another said.

“It's fine,” I said.

Drake smiled widely. “If you continue in this good behavior, Elena, I'll plead for a lighter sentence for you.”

I ignored him.

My throat was parched, my lips still bleeding.

“Doctor, I need water,” I whispered.

“And who's going to pay for it?” Drake snapped, halting the doctor.

The entire room froze.

He approached me. “All you do is to waste everything I have built with my sweat and blood! You contribute nothing to me. You're useless yet I care about you. Now you want water?

“Do you even care how much that costs me? Do you know how hard Sandra has to work as the new manager to raise that amount? Yet you want to gulp it down in a go.”

Sandra walked into the room at that moment, caressing her pregnant belly like a trophy.

She showed Drake the picture of a gold-rimmed maternity gown which cost $100,000.

Drake immediately softened. Right there, he placed an order for 10,000 pieces of that dress, different shades and colors, from exquisite word-class designers, one for each day of her life.

The doctor fell down on her knees, tears in her eyes.

“Sir, you took over five pints of Elena's blood when she was unconscious, she sustained multiple internal injuries because of it. Yet you think a cup of water is expensive?”

“Sandra is fragile. Do you want her to lose her baby because of a mere billion? She needs it. Elena is just faking this to exploit my generosity. I won't allow her.”

He threw me a disgusted look and turned to the cops. “If you don't have this murderer arrested now, I'll make sure you lose your jobs and end up in jail!”

With no choice, they slammed cold, toothy handcuffs on my wrists. My hospital gown was covered in blood from the poorly done bandages.

I dragged my feet across the floor because every movement sent intense pain across my body.

Drake took Sandra in a hug, as though shielding her from me.

But she came and touched my hand.

“Don't worry, Elena, I'll visit you every day in jail. Here's the water you asked for.”

She shoved a half empty bottle of premium water into my hand. I let it fall.

The moment Sandra winced, Drake hauled the bottle at me.

It split my left eyebrow.

“Sandra decides to show you kindness and this is what she gets?” he barked, checking for an inexistent scratch on Sandra's foot.

As the blood gushed down my face, I was pushed into the police van.

Sandra gave me a device and whispered:

“In this are plenty of… steamy videos of your husband and me. In case you get lonely and need to cry…”

It was her triumphant laughter which brought hot tears to my eyes. And reminded me that I wouldn't have any pity on them when I strike back!

And while all of this went on, Drake made sure no camera saw it. So my father was kept in the dark at all times.

I was jailed without trial. Drake didn't show up one bit. The device Sandra gave me was so nauseating that I smashed it.

But tonight was the last night I had given my father.

Like a dream, it struck 12:00am.

An armoured jet landed in front of the prison.

With a single call from my father, I was released.

Soldiers poured out, escorting ten top doctors who placed me on a stretcher and into the jet. Three cops were shot dead at the spot.

My father had tears in his eyes when he saw my dying state. He hugged me, apologizing bitterly for not coming sooner.

From tomorrow, Drake, I will make you pay for everything you did. And when I start, dear heavens, do not say I am too cruel!