Chapter 3

The air in the hospital room felt suffocating. I slipped past the guard while he was on a phone call and went up to the rooftop terrace.

To my surprise, Hans was already leaning against the railing.

Seeing me, he sneered. "Tracking me down, Julian?"

"You heard everything in my room earlier, didn't you? Yet you're still lingering around like a stray dog. You must really worship Scarlett to let her carve you up again."

Looking at his smug face, knowing my marrow was slated to be pumped into his veins, a wave of disgust hit me.

"I'm not donating anything to you."

Hans laughed out loud, mockingly shaking his head. "You dragged your weak ass all the way up here just to tell me that?"

"Do you honestly think you have a say in this?"

"Never forget: even though I'm married to another woman, Scarlett is still wrapped around my finger. Whatever I want, she serves it to me on a silver platter."

I turned to leave, but his sharp words cut through the air.

"By the way, thanks for the bone marrow three years ago. Gave me a whole new lease on life."

"Make sure you eat well. This won't be the last time. My body might reject it down the road, and I'll need another refill from you."

My knuckles cracked as my hands balled into fists. Because of him, I had spent three years living like glass, terrified of catching a cold or fracturing a bone from a minor stumble.

"You really are pathetic," Hans sneered, stepping closer. "Did you actually believe Scarlett loved you? Your miserable life only has value because it keeps me breathing."

The rage I had suppressed exploded. I swung my fist at his face.

"A cripple trying to fight?" he scoffed, dodging effortlessly and landing a hard punch right across my jaw.

I stumbled back, my ears ringing with pain.

Before he could throw another punch, Hans suddenly let out a dramatic, terrified yelp and threw himself backward onto the concrete floor.

Before I could process what was happening, a figure burst through the rooftop door and shoved me violently backward.

"Julian! What the hell are you doing?! Have you lost your mind?!"

Scarlett glared at me, her eyes ablaze with fury. "Why did you drag Hans up here and attack him?!"

I hit the rough ground hard, pain flaring through my joints. Her blind accusation left me completely speechless.

Scarlett knelt down, tenderly cradling Hans as he acted like a battered victim.

"It's my fault, Scarlett," Hans whimpered, his eyes welling with crocodile tears. "I shouldn't have defended myself. I hurt his face by accident..."

He cowered toward me. "Julian, I'm sorry! Just please don't hit me again!"

Scarlett trembled with rage, her voice ice-cold. "Just because I brought him soup, you cornered him to beat him up? How can a grown man be this petty and vindictive?!"

She completely ignored that my body had been ruined three years ago. I was barely functioning.

How could I possibly overpower a healthy, six-foot-tall man?

Yet with a single word from Hans, she convicted me without a second thought.

I looked at her with utter disillusionment, a chilling smile touching my lips. "I beat him up? Look at him, Scarlett. Do you really think I have the strength to lay a finger on him?"

Scarlett froze for a fraction of a second, her tone softening slightly. "Fine. Stop throwing a tantrum, Julian. Come back inside and wait for your transplant."

"And if I refuse?"

She frowned, panic creeping back into her voice. "Do you have any idea how hard it was to secure this matching marrow for you?! Stop acting like a child! We need to fix your health first—everything else can wait!"

The hypocrisy was sickening.

On the surface, she pretended to care about my life, while beneath it all, every breath she took was dedicated to saving her first love.

"Do you really think I don't know what you're planning?" I asked quietly.

Scarlett's eyes flashed with brief panic before she snapped, raising her voice to drown out her guilt. "What is there to know?! Stop talking nonsense and get back to your room!"

She grabbed my arm to drag me forward.

I wrenched my arm away from her grip, my voice cutting through the wind. "I said, I'm not doing the surgery!"

"Now get out of my way."

Rage overtook her face. She gritted her teeth. "Julian Vance, you don't get a choice today. You are having this procedure whether you want it or not!"

She turned toward the stairwell and shouted, "What are you standing there for?! Get over here and bring him to the prep room!"

At her command, a team of medical staff swarmed onto the roof, tackling me to the ground.

"Scarlett Harris! This is assault and medical malpractice! You'll go to prison!"

The nurses hesitated, but Scarlett yelled coldly, "I signed the consent forms as his legal guardian and spouse! I take full responsibility!"

She flicked her hand dismissively, treating me like an annoying fly, ordering them to drag me away.

Then, without looking back once, she hurried to help Hans down the stairs, as though a minor scrape on his knee might end his life.

She didn't spare me a single glance.

I should have known. Why had I ever held onto hope?

"Sedate him. Get him prepped for marrow aspiration."

As the harsh voice rang in my ears, the cold needle pierced my skin, and the world faded to black.

When I woke up, agony ripped through every nerve in my body. Every tiny twitch of my fingers felt like being stabbed with hot needles.

I looked down under my hospital gown. Puncture wounds covered my pelvis and spine, angry and bruised.

Just like three years ago. Except this time, the room was dead silent.

I grabbed my phone from the bedside table. It was time. The agent from the identity relocation service was calling.

"Mr. Vance, what scenario would you like for your departure?"

I let out a weak, lifeless laugh. "Stage a fatal postoperative complication. Make it look like my body gave out."

"Understood."

Shortly after hanging up, several suited operatives silently entered the room to carry out the extraction of my life.

Looking at them, all lingering attachments in my heart vanished.

*Goodbye, Scarlett.*

For the next twenty-four hours, my wife never once checked on me. She stayed entirely focused on nursing Hans Parker back to health after his successful transplant.

She sat by his bed, using forks to feed him fresh fruit.

Chloe Miller watched from the doorway and sighed. "Scarlett, is this really right? Julian is in critical condition after the extraction, and you're here babying Hans."

"Julian has loved you with everything he has for three years. Did you really never feel anything for him?"