He Married Me for My Son's Kidneys

How shameless. Rae's so-called long and healthy life was built on Leon's death, with his kidney now sitting inside her body like a trophy.

The mere thought of it made my fingers twitch with the urge to strangle her right there, to wipe that smug smile off her face for good.

"Come on, Sis, drink up! Haven't you been drinking a lot lately?" Rae's voice was sickeningly sweet, her smile stretching just a little too wide. "Have some wine and pull yourself together. I'll take you to my birthday party."

She clapped her hands and two people stepped into the room—a makeup artist and a stylist, both already armed with brushes and racks of dresses. "Make my sister look gorgeous," Rae instructed, her eyes gleaming with barely contained malice. "I want her to shine at my party and finally move on from all that grief."

The makeup artist painted my eyes with heavy, smoky shadows that darkened my gaze, adding a sultry edge I rarely saw in the mirror. The stylist then slipped me into a mermaid-cut gown, so tight I could barely breathe, with a plunging neckline that left very little to the imagination. It wasn't a dress—it was a lure.

I knew exactly what game Rae was playing. Earlier, I had caught her on the surveillance recording, her voice dripping with glee as she made arrangements with someone over the phone.

"Don't worry, my sister's given birth before, but with some makeup and a sexy dress, she's still passable. She'll definitely satisfy you..."

Her tone was filled with a disgusting mix of amusement and cruelty.

"I already know you have AIDS. That's fine—my sister won't mind. Bring your friends, too. The more, the merrier..."

She even gave him the exact room number at the Aurelian Crown Hotel—room 8868—the same hotel where her birthday party would be held.

Rae's plan was clear as day. She wanted me drugged with the aphrodisiac at her party, dragged upstairs into that hotel room and handed over to a man with HIV. The whole thing would be recorded, of course and sent straight to Kai.

Once Kai saw that I had not only cheated on him but had also contracted HIV, he wouldn't just divorce me—he'd probably throw me out like trash. That was Rae's endgame. She didn't just want my place beside Kai; she wanted to make sure I was too tainted to ever crawl back.

What a meticulous little plan. Almost admirable—if it wasn't so vile.

I gave Rae a soft smile. "Thanks, Rae, but my stomach's been feeling off all day. I feel like I'm about to throw up. Let me go vomit first and then I'll drink that Lafite and get ready for your party."

I gagged dramatically, clutching my stomach for effect.

Rae's expression twisted with barely concealed disgust. She must have still remembered when I threw up on Kai a few days back.

"Ugh, fine. I'll leave you to it, Sis." She took a careful step back, nose wrinkled. "But don't forget to drink your wine."

She left in a hurry and the second she was gone, I poured the drugged wine into a clean glass and stared at the deep red liquid swirling inside. There was no way I'd drink it—but someone else would.

I already had a plan. Kai had a habit of bringing a bottle of fine wine to every event he attended and since he'd be going to Rae's party tonight, there was no doubt he'd pick something from his private cellar. All I had to do was make sure this particular glass of Lafite ended up in the right bottle.

Slipping on a pair of gloves, I made my way down to the villa's basement, where the wine cellar was kept. Rows of rare vintages stood in temperature-controlled perfection, but my eyes went straight to a small gift basket placed near the entrance. Nestled inside was a bottle of 1982 Château Latour and a handwritten birthday card for Rae.

So, Kai had already chosen her gift. How convenient.

I retrieved a wine opener I'd prepared in advance, carefully working the cork out of the Château Latour without damaging it. Slowly, I poured the drugged Lafite into the prized vintage, making sure not to spill a drop. The rich aroma filled the air, mingling with the cool scent of stone and aged wood.

Just as I was about to finish, a sudden pressure closed around my wrist—strong, unyielding, like an iron cuff snapping into place.

My heart leapt into my throat. I turned my head sharply, only to find myself staring straight into Clayton's face.

That damn bodyguard. The man moved like a ghost, always appearing when I least expected him. Who knew how long he'd been standing there, silently watching every move I made?