The Husband Who Stole My Blood for His Mistress

Everyone said I’m lucky.

After all, I married Mike Rodger—the most conservative, upright man in the capital.

But only I know how often he’s not home.

The darling of the entertainment industry waved a pregnancy test in front of me, claiming she was carrying his child. I threatened her, begged her, even offered her resources just to convince her to get an abortion.

An innocent college girl cried, saying she gave her first time to Mike. I sent her abroad as hush money, pleading with her to stay silent.

Then came the young married woman who came right to my door, fluttering her lashes at me, asking if I wanted to “join them.”

I swallowed every bitter pill and tried to keep up appearances—for him.

The Rodger Family is noble, powerful and spotless. One scandal could destroy him. I was afraid his father, Mr. Rodger, would kill him if the truth ever came out.

But then Jinny Wellner knelt before me, her lips pale, clutching a boy in her arms.

“Ms. Meghan Scott,” she said, her voice trembling. “When you forced me to leave the Larkspire and stay away from Mike, I didn’t complain. But... my son, Liam, needs a rh-negative blood type. Please, let me have some of yours to save him.”

Mike's eyes—cold and calculating—landed on me, as if assessing the worth of a worn-out item.

That’s when I realized: the marriage everyone envied was a setup from the start.

Mike had done everything to keep this woman hidden—his first love, the one he sent abroad, the one he never let go.

And I—Mrs. Rodger—was nothing but a cover.

But I was done.

——

Flashback to thirty minutes ago.

The noise at the office entrance disrupted work. Curious, I stepped outside.

In the crowd stood a pale, fragile woman a thin ten-year-old boy clinging to her side.

Jinny.

The moment she saw me, her face went whiter, her eyes reddened and tears streamed down before she could speak.

“Ms. Meghan,” she choked, “I know you hate me for having Mike’s child. You ruined my job and threatened my family to keep me away.

But... the child is innocent. Please, I beg you—he has a rare blood disease. He needs a rh-negative blood type and you’re the only match.”

With that, Jinny dropped to her knees and clutched my skirt.

I looked down at her, stunned by how fragile her hands were.

Only two people had rh-negative blood type: me and the boy.

“I beg you,” she whispered. “Forget the past—help him. I’ll do anything you ask, as long as you save my child.”

Before I could respond, a flash of silver caught my eye.

Instinctively, I stepped back.

“Jinny!” I gasped.

She had pulled out a dagger and sliced her wrist open.

Blood splattered onto the floor, wrapping around the hem of my skirt like a serpent's tongue.

“Ms. Meghan,” she cried out, “what else can I give you? My blood? My life? Is that what it takes for you to help Liam?”

The boy wailed and tried to rush over. He pressed down on her bleeding wrist, his eyes blazing with a wolfish fury as he stared at me.

And Mike?

A flash of disgust crossed his cold, dark eyes.

“Meghan,” he spat. “When did you become so vile and shameless?”

The man who always obsessed over cleanliness brushed past me without hesitation, scooping Jinny into his arms. Blood soaked his sleeves.

She trembled in his embrace like she might fall apart.

“Don’t be scared,” he said, gentler than I’d ever heard him. “I’m here. It’s just rh-negative blood type. I’ll get it for you.”

Jinny tried to push him away. “No, don’t dirty your clothes…”

“It’s not good for Ms. Meghan to see us like this,” she added. “You shouldn’t blame her. After all, Liam and I owe her everything…”

Mike cut her off. “Jinny, if it’s you, nothing is dirty.”

Then he turned his icy gaze on me.

“Meghan, all the things you’ve done behind my back—I’ll deal with you when I return.”

He carried Jinny in his arms, holding Liam’s hand with his other, the three of them leaving like a picture-perfect family.

Not one of them looked back at me.

Outside, snow began to fall. The chill seeped into my bones.

Ten years of marriage—reduced to a passing cloud.

I heard the whispers from the onlookers.

“Wow, Ms. Meghan seemed so gentle, but she was trying to drive an innocent woman child to death…”

“No wonder Mr. Rodger doesn’t love her. Tsk.”

I tuned them out and walked back to my office.

As the warmth returned to my body, I came back to myself.

I picked up the phone and called Rachel Jenkins, my lawyer—and best friend.

“Rachel, I want a divorce.”

She didn’t ask questions. She moved quickly to prepare the papers. Then she paused.

“Meghan… do you still want to study law in Larkspire? I happen to have a spot for you.”

Larkspire had the best law school in the world.

I froze for a second, then remembered—

I wasn’t born Mrs. Rodger.

I didn’t begin as some washed-up socialite.

I was once an exceptional lawyer—admired, accomplished, unstoppable.

“Yes,” I said.

Relief warmed Rachel’s voice.

“I’ll book the tickets then. How does seven days from now sound?”

Seven days. Just enough time to settle things.

“Alright,” I said. “Let’s leave together.”