My Husband Asked Me to Donate a Kidney to His Childhood Sweetheart

Grayson furrowed his brows tightly, looking at the drunkard before him with clear disdain.

"Who are you? Where's Mila?"

The drunkard continued to laugh and cry at the same time.

His bottle was kicked over, spilling the clear liquid everywhere, some even splashing onto his face.

For a moment, it was hard to tell if the liquid on his face was alcohol or tears.

The drunkard, still completely wasted, suddenly lunged forward and hugged Grayson's leg.

"She was a good person.

"If it wasn't for her giving me a meal back then, I would've starved to death... It's a shame she's gone."

Grayson's face remained cold as he kicked him far away.

The man landed right on a small mound of dirt.

The drunk sobered up instantly, frantically fixing the mound while muttering apologies with a face full of guilt.

"Sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."

Grayson looked confused and asked him what that was.

The drunkard gave a smile. "It's her grave."

Grayson shot a cold glance over and sure enough, saw a crude plaque with crookedly carved words.

"Mila Nelson's Grave."

The drunkard carefully propped the crooked tombstone back up like it was a treasure, repeatedly muttering apologies.

"Delusional."

Grayson shoved the drunkard away coldly, let out a sneer, and kicked the tombstone in half.

"Three years and Mila's still full of tricks. She even staged this dramatic sob story."

He not only broke the tombstone, but also ordered his bodyguards to grab shovels and flatten the small mound.

"I'd like to see how long Mila can keep up this act!"

The drunkard, seeing the tombstone he had painstakingly set up get destroyed again, screamed in panic.

"I told you she's dead! Why won't you leave her alone?"

"Ms. Nelson was such a good person, how could she suffer like this..."

Grayson looked at him with disgust but didn't bother responding anymore.

He spoke coldly, "Mila, I know you can hear me.

"I order you to come out within three days and obediently donate your kidney to Chloe. If you do, I'll end your punishment and let you return home.

"Otherwise, if you keep playing games and hiding, you'll never see your son again for the rest of your life!"

After finishing his statement, Grayson turned decisively and left.

Before leaving, he ordered his bodyguards to cripple the drunkard's leg.

"You beggar, this is the price for crossing Mr. Allen!"

I hovered nearby, wanting to cry but unable to shed any tears.

My son, Jayden, I haven't seen him in three years.

Grayson knows my son is my weakness, so he's using him to threaten me. If I were still alive, I'd have rushed out without hesitation.

But I'm already dead.

After Grayson and his men left, the isolated villa returned to its usual desolate and lonely state.

By the flattened mound, only the drunkard's sorrowful sobs remained.

He was weeping for my grave.

Seeing his leg beaten and covered in blood, my heart ached.

Not many people knew I had died these past three years.

But the drunkard was the only one who never left me after my death.

He had once been severely injured for stealing, and I had found a doctor for him and given him a few meals.

So he saw me as his savior and refused to leave, guarding the villa's entrance for me.

Even on the day Chloe snuck into the villa to see me and pushed me off the terrace.

He had been standing right outside, watching helplessly as I fell.

Falling from the fifth floor should have killed me for sure.

But I didn't die; I was only left half-paralyzed.

The drunkard went crazy, rushing to find a doctor to save me.

But in that short time, Chloe saw that I wasn't dead and hired a few homeless men to assault me in turns.

Afterward, they threw my battered body in the villa's backyard and buried me alive.

"As long as you're alive, you'll always be a threat between Grayson and me.

"Once you're dead, I can finally become Mrs. Allen.

"When you're dead, don't blame me for being ruthless. Blame your bad luck for becoming my obstacle!"

Chloe's vicious smile was still frozen in that moment.

Maybe my resentment was too strong. Even after death, I didn't reincarnate but remained trapped here, unable to leave.

I didn't do anything wrong, yet I was framed like this.

When I was being buried alive, there was only one thought in my mind.

Let me see my son one more time.

Without me around, how would Chloe torment him?