The Walking Blood Bank Has Left the Chat

As Vincent's soft breathing turned into light snores, I carefully reached for his phone, pressing his finger against the sensor to unlock it.

His messages with Emma Ortega popped up immediately.

Vincent: [Good news—Sophia might be pregnant. Once we get the baby's umbilical cord blood, you'll be cured.]

Emma: [Really? That's amazing! When I'm healthy again, what do you plan to do with her and the child?]

Vincent: [Don't worry. Once everything is over, I'll send them away. They won't interfere with your life.]

Emma: [She loves you so much. Will she really leave willingly?]

Vincent: [If she refuses, I'll threaten her with her family and friends.]

Emma: [Vincent, you're so good to me... I'm sorry for dragging you down, forcing you to marry a woman you don't love.]

Vincent: [As long as you're happy and healthy, I'd do anything.]

After tucking me in with sweet words, he turned right around and whispered love to someone else.

I opened his photo album. The screen filled with images of him and Emma—countless moments of their happiness together.

Digging deeper, I found his business contracts. Nearly all his major deals were with the Ortega family. He'd showered Emma with luxury properties, jewelry, designer bags... but that wasn't the worst part.

His office sat at the top of his skyscraper. Right next door? Emma's private recovery suite, stocked with state-of-the-art medical equipment. A helicopter on the rooftop stood ready to rush her to the hospital at a moment's notice.

Love is in the details. And every detail made it painfully clear who he truly cherished.

I shut the phone, unable to stomach another second of it.

Instead, I turned to what really mattered—finalizing my immigration paperwork and securing my one-way ticket out of here.

The only thing left? Saying goodbye.

At sunrise, I stepped out of the house, only to be stopped by the butler.

"Mrs. Arnault, Mr. Arnault wants you to go to the hospital today for a pregnancy test."

Of course. Vincent wasn't excited about a baby—he was excited about Emma's cure.

The results came back fast: not pregnant. Relief flooded me.

Just as I left the hospital, my phone rang.

"Darling, come to my office. I have a surprise for you."

Perfect. I had a surprise of my own—I wanted to see Emma's luxurious recovery suite with my own eyes.

Before heading to Arnault Corp, I made a quick stop. Bought a recording pen.

The moment I walked into the tower, I caught two employees gossiping in a corner.

"She got here this morning. Mr. Arnault personally escorted her to the suite. To cheer her up, he even gave her this insane ruby jewelry set. I saw it—it was so dazzling, I nearly went blind."

"So jealous. She's not his wife, but she's the one he actually loves. I heard that once she recovers, he's divorcing his wife to marry her."

"Obviously. They were meant to be. If she hadn't gotten sick, they would've been married ages ago. His current wife? Just some ordinary woman—her only purpose was to be Emma's blood bank."

"Wow. Rich people live in a whole different world. Where'd you hear all this?"

"My sister works at Emma's hospital!"

They were too caught up in their conversation to notice me. Not that I stood out—just Vincent's plain, forgettable wife.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and headed for the top floor.

Straight to Vincent.