Chapter 1

I was struck down by Julian’s kept woman, leaving me paralyzed and stuck in a perpetual twilight.

Julian, seemingly consumed by guilt, visited my hospital room daily to massage me.

His apparent kindness moved me, and I fought against the agony, hoping to surprise him with my recovery.

But one day, while feigning sleep, I overheard my attending doctor ask him:

“Mr. Hayes, the muscle tissue samples from your wife are too frequent. At this rate, she’ll be permanently disabled.”

Julian’s voice was cool, detached. “Tiffany’s Immortal Bloom is dying. Scarlett has longevity genes; her flesh and blood can bring the flower back to life.”

Only then did the chilling truth dawn on me.

His gentle massages weren't acts of care. They were him, meticulously carving off the freshest flesh from my numb legs, slice by agonizing slice.

But he didn't know.

The secret to my longevity was this: my blood carried a deadly poison.

I lay in the hospital bed, tubes snaking into my body, every breath feeling like a dull blade scraping my throat.

After the car crash, Dr. Reed said my spinal cord was damaged. The paralysis was temporary, and with consistent physical therapy, I might walk again.

But Julian didn't care about any of that.

He sat by my bed, gently stroking my numb legs, his voice soft, like he was comforting a child.

“Scarlett, don’t be scared. The pain will be gone soon.”

I tried desperately to wiggle my toes, but they were nailed to the bed, utterly motionless.

Dr. Reed stood by, frowning as he flipped through my medical chart.

“Mr. Hayes, she just experienced a major hemorrhage. The risk of amputation right now is too great; it could lead to…”

“To her death?”

Julian chuckled softly, his fingertips tracing my knee, as if measuring something.

“It’s fine. I trust your medical skills.”

The doctor paused, then couldn't help but ask, “Why does it have to be now?”

Julian lifted his gaze, the tenderness in his eyes vanishing instantly, replaced by cold calculation.

“Tiffany’s Immortal Bloom is dying.”

The Immortal Bloom.

My heart lurched.

That was the flowerpot I’d accidentally shattered when I walked in on him and Tiffany.

He’d gripped my throat then, his words slow and deliberate.

“Do you know how precious this flower is? If it dies, you’ll pay for it.”

So, this was what he meant by "pay."

Using my flesh and blood to nurture a flower Tiffany had cultivated!

“Don’t worry. As soon as the flower comes back to life, I’ll bring her home.”

He leaned in, whispering into my ear as if sharing a secret endearment, “Be a good girl, Scarlett. Just bear with it a little longer.”

I struggled to open my mouth, wanting to scream, to ask him why he was so cruel to me!

But at that moment, I couldn’t even summon the strength to cry.

Julian suddenly noticed my gaze and froze slightly.

“Scarlett, are you awake? Do you still recognize me?”

I stared at him, unable to utter a sound.

A flicker of panic crossed his eyes, but he quickly put on that mask of deep affection, urging Dr. Reed to examine me.

The doctor pulled open my eyelids, and a blinding white light seared into my eyes.

I held my nerves taut, forcing my eyes to remain still, suppressing even the slightest twitch.

Dr. Reed frowned, putting down his penlight, his voice flat.

“No pupil reaction. Just physiological eye-opening. Her consciousness hasn’t returned.”

Julian’s tense shoulders subtly relaxed. Then, he leaned down and pulled me into his arms.

His chest pressed against mine, his heartbeat a calm rhythm, his breath warm and steady. He seemed genuinely worried. Seemed.

But I knew this deep, loving embrace was laced with deadly poison.

Julian held me, his voice trembling, even squeezing out a single tear.

“Scarlett, Dr. Reed said your leg is deteriorating rapidly. If we don’t amputate soon, you might not even make it…”

Liar!

I shook my head violently, but my body felt nailed down, only managing weak tremors.

He choked back a sob, his thumb gently stroking my face, as if comforting a foolish child.

“Don’t be afraid. I’m here. I’ll take care of you for the rest of your life.”

Then, feigning reluctance, he turned to Dr. Reed and nodded.

“Go ahead.”

I was forcibly wheeled into the operating room. The moment the surgical knife cut through my skin, my pain receptors felt sluggish, delayed.

But I could hear.

I could hear the grinding sound of the saw cutting through bone.

I could hear Julian standing nearby, quietly telling the doctor.

“Take the freshest segment. Tiffany’s flower can’t wait.”

I lay there, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling, remembering the first time he kissed me, when he’d smiled and said.

“Scarlett, is your blood sweet? Why am I so addicted to it?”

Yes, Julian.

My blood is sweet.

Sweet enough… to kill you.