Took My Kidney for His Love

Cecilia got to stay in a luxurious VIP hospital room, while I had been crammed into a shared five-person ward. The air was thick with an unbearable stench, and the constant noise sent my heart into palpitations.

At the time, I called Maddox, hoping he would move me to a quieter room. It did not have to be VIP—just somewhere more peaceful.

However, he only sneered over the phone.

"Addicted to putting on a show, aren't you? Always competing with Cece for attention. If you want to keep playing the sympathy card, go ahead.

"Just so you know, I put you there on purpose. There's plenty of infectious diseases in that ward—if you're not afraid to die, then just stay there."

A chill ran down my spine as he spoke of infectious diseases and death. The words felt foreign yet terrifying.

However, I was too weak to move, my body tangled in tubes and wires. Even the nurses and doctors had been ordered by Maddox to treat me with deliberate neglect.

They deliberately missed my veins, stabbing me over a dozen times before successfully inserting an IV, leaving me drenched in cold sweat from the pain.

Even when the IV fluid started flowing backward into the tube, no one bothered to check on me. The food they brought was nothing but cold leftovers.

When I complained, a nurse rolled her eyes.

"You've probably been a rich wife for too long, huh? Do you think you're better than the rest of the patients?

"Everyone here is sick—what makes you so special? This is what we've got. If you don't like it, then go home."

I did not dare say a word. I wanted to live—more than anyone.

Meanwhile, Cecilia lived comfortably, surrounded by the best caregivers. Yet Maddox had never once hired even the cheapest help for me.

"Maddox, I want chicken noodle soup too, along with walnut pie," Cecilia cooed, her voice laced with sweetness.

Hearing that, a terrible premonition crept over me.

I often made chicken noodle soup for Maddox. Cecilia must have had some before, which was why she asked for it now.

Sure enough, Maddox first looked at Cecilia with gentle adoration.

"I'll have Rhea make it for you."

Then, his expression darkened with cold indifference as he pulled out his phone and called me.

It finally connected after the second try, but before the person on the other end could say anything, Maddox got straight to the point.

"Rhea, I don't care what you're doing, drop everything and go make chicken noodle soup for Cece. Deliver it before tonight.

"And apologize to her while you're at it. If you don't, don't blame me for divorcing you!"

There was silence on the other end. But Maddox did not wait for a response—he simply hung up.

"I don't care what you're doing," he said.

Even if he did not believe I was dead, even if he refused to accept that I had undergone heart surgery, he had barged into the operating room and taken my kidney with his own hands.

I had been cut open twice—I could not possibly recover faster than Cecilia.

Then again, of course, what was I compared to her?

I had always given Maddox everything he wanted, no matter what he asked. But this time, he would never get an answer from me.

As for divorce? Let him do as he pleased.

Maddox had used divorce as a threat so many times. He knew better than anyone that I would never agree. Whenever I did not comply with his wishes, he repeated the same tactics.

Even when he wanted my kidney and I refused, he used the same threats. It was not that I wanted to just say no, I simply was not physically fit for the surgery.

Maddox just wanted me dead.

Even so, he never believed me.

The moment they sedated me and cut into my chest, Maddox stormed into the operating room with his people.

They did not even wear surgical gowns or masks.

They did not care if I got infected.