Chapter 3

Vivian POV

After visiting Grandma at the hospital, I pushed open the door to the villa.

In the foyer, there was an extra pair of women's high heels.

In the living room, Stella was lounging on the sofa in my silk pajamas, casually drinking coffee.

"What are you doing here? Get out!"

My voice was cold.

Stella put down her coffee cup, smiling cheerfully.

"Ethan said I was traumatized and needed someone to take care of me, so he told me to move in. What's wrong, Vivian? Don't you understand yet? It's time for you to give up your position as Mrs. Sinclair."

"As long as I don't sign divorce papers, you're nothing but a homewrecker who can't show her face."

I walked over and snatched the cup from her hand.

It was a mug Ethan had handmade for me, with our initials carved on the bottom.

Stella's eyes flashed. She suddenly cried out, falling backward and sweeping the nearby floor vase down with her.

A loud crash. Shards flew everywhere.

"What happened?"

The door burst open and Ethan strode in.

"Ethan..."

Stella sat on the floor, pale-faced, clutching her wrist with tears barely contained.

"I just wanted some water. Vivian might be in a bad mood and pushed me... I don't blame her. After all, with Derek's situation..."

"Vivian!"

Ethan cut her off sharply, striding over to scoop Stella into his arms. He turned to glare at me.

"What's wrong with you? Haven't you caused enough trouble in court?"

I looked at his anxious expression and found it absurd.

"I pushed her? Ethan, there are cameras here. Check them yourself!"

"Enough!"

Ethan wouldn't listen.

"Stella's health is already fragile. Do you have to push her to death before you're satisfied?"

Just then, Stella clutched her chest, her face turning deathly pale as she fainted.

"Stella!"

Ethan's expression changed dramatically. He immediately carried her out to the car.

Half an hour later, at the private hospital.

The doctor came out holding a report, his expression urgent.

"Mr. Sinclair, Stella fainted from severe anemia. Combined with her blood clotting disorder, she urgently needs a transfusion. But she has RH negative blood, and our blood bank is critically low. Getting blood from other hospitals will take at least two hours. She can't wait that long!"

Ethan's head snapped around, his gaze piercing straight at me.

I instinctively took a step back.

My blood type was compatible.

Ethan knew.

"Take hers."

Ethan pointed at me, his tone utterly flat, as if discussing an object.

"Ethan, have you lost your mind? I haven't rested properly in days. Drawing blood could kill me!"

I looked at him in disbelief.

"It won't kill you."

Ethan grabbed my wrist and dragged me toward the blood draw room.

"Stella got sick saving my life. You owe her. Today you must repay it!"

"I don't owe her anything! Who's going to repay my brother's life?!"

I struggled desperately, but couldn't match a man's strength.

I was forcibly strapped to the blood draw chair. The cold needle pierced my vein.

Bright red blood flowed through the tube. I looked at Ethan's cold profile, a chill spreading from my heart through my entire body.

They drew a full 400cc. My vision darkened repeatedly, cold sweat covering me.

When the nurse removed the needle, I didn't even have the strength to stand. I slumped to the floor.

Ethan didn't even glance at me. He took the blood bag and strode toward the emergency room.

I leaned against the cold wall, watching his anxious retreating figure, and laughed.

Ethan, what is your heart made of?