Chapter 3

The world, at that moment, seemed to hit a mute button.

The corridor, filled with euphoria a second ago, instantly fell silent.

Arthur Valerius pushed past the nurse and stormed into the room.

My dear mother collapsed to the floor, her gaze vacant.

"No… it can't be… it was successful…"

Inside the room, Dr. Wyatt and his team were frantically trying to revive Caleb.

"Adrenaline!"

"Prepare for defibrillation!"

"No heart rate response! The failure is too rapid! This is not scientific!"

Dr. Wyatt's shouts bordered on hysteria.

How could a heart that was considered an "artwork" just hours ago wither and necrotize like a sponge instantly drained of water?

Arthur Valerius's eyes were bloodshot. He grabbed Dr. Wyatt by the collar.

"You said it was perfect! Why is this happening?!"

"I don't know!"

Dr. Wyatt's voice choked, shaking his head repeatedly.

"This must be some unknown, acute rejection! Yes, it's rejection, don't blame me!"

"Rejection?"

Arthur Valerius's eyes were wild. He threw Dr. Wyatt to the floor.

"Then replace it again! Use mine!"

Dr. Wyatt shook his head despairingly.

"It's too late, Mr. Valerius. This heart is necrotizing inside him, and the toxins will rapidly destroy his immune system…"

"Useless!"

Arthur Valerius punched the wall, blood instantly seeping from his knuckles.

Hope had plummeted from the clouds, shattering into a million pieces.

This feeling, it must be exquisite, wouldn't it?

I "floated" in the air, calmly observing the farce.

At this moment, my eyes held only the thrill of vengeance served.

Father, Mother, Brother.

Your family, at last, was "reunited" in another way.

Half an hour later, the resuscitation attempt ended.

Dr. Wyatt wearily removed his mask, shaking his head helplessly.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Valerius, we did everything we could."

Caleb Valerius, the Valerius family's only heir, was dead.

Killed by my "loving" heart.

Eleanor let out a guttural scream and fainted.

Arthur Valerius, a man always so cold, instantly aged ten years.

His gaze, piercing through the crowd, landed on the gurney covered with a white sheet.

My "body" lay there quietly.

For the first time, his eyes held something other than calculation.

Was it bewilderment, regret, or even a hint of fear?

Whatever it was, I saw no remorse.

He slowly walked over and pulled back the white sheet.

My sallow, emaciated face lay there peacefully.

"Heart failure… wouldn't live three months…"

He muttered the words from my letter over and over, as if hypnotizing himself, or perhaps denying everything.

"Right, she was going to die anyway. It was her choice… it's not my fault…"

He sought some shred of comfort within himself.

But how could these things be erased with a single phrase?

The "fruit" on this tree, he had planted all the "seeds" himself.

But Dr. Wyatt's next words ripped away his last pretense.

He rushed forward with a certificate, holding it out to Arthur Valerius, his expression agitated.

"No! This isn't right!"

Dr. Wyatt frantically rushed to the nurses' station and pulled up my pre-surgery blood report.

He pointed to one of the indicators, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"Impossible! This cellular activity indicates that this heart was stronger than any athlete's heart before transplant! It wasn't diseased at all!"

Arthur Valerius's whole body jolted. He immediately grabbed Dr. Wyatt's shoulders.

"What did you say?"

"I said."

Dr. Wyatt's voice trembled.

"Her heart was healthy! Perfectly healthy! What the letter said was a lie!"

He paused, a terrifying thought dawning on him.

"Unless… she did it on purpose!"

"She must have used some kind of drug to make her heart appear in its most perfect state, deceiving all of us!"

Dr. Wyatt grew more agitated, as if trying to clear himself of responsibility through his words.

"Once the drug wore off, the heart would immediately collapse! My God, this… this was a deliberate, mutually assured murder!"

The word "murder" exploded like thunder in Arthur Valerius's ears.

His vision swam, and he staggered backward.

Not fate, not an accident.

It was her, this daughter he had never truly looked at, who had gambled her own life, a calculated murder of his only son.

She hated them.

Hated them enough to use her own heart as the weapon.

Arthur Valerius's throat made a gurgling sound, the blood vessels in his eyes tearing open inch by inch.

He finally understood.

He wasn't the hunter.

He, and his family, were merely prey in my trap, awaiting judgment.

"Ah—!"

He let out a strangled roar, rushing to my gurney, violently shaking my cold body.

"Why! Why would you do this! I'm your father!"

I really wanted to laugh.

Father?

Where were you during the eighteen years I was trafficked?

Where were you when I was treated as a walking organ bank?

Now, you ask me why.

How ridiculous.

Just then, Serena Valerius, who had been hiding in the corner, suddenly shrieked.

"Dad… Dad… your phone… it's ringing…"

Arthur Valerius numbly pulled out his phone.

On the screen was a newly received email.

Sender: Your Abandoned Daughter.

Email Subject: *Dad, My Final Gift For You*

Arthur Valerius's fingers trembled violently as he clicked open the email.

Inside, there was only one video.

He pressed play.

My face appeared on the screen.

It was recorded the night before the surgery.

Video me, wearing a hospital gown, my face pale, but my eyes unusually calm.

"Dad, Mom, by the time you see this video, I imagine Caleb has already received the 'gift' I gave him."

I smiled, showing a flash of white teeth.

But that smile, in their eyes, was chillingly sinister.

"You must be wondering why I hate you so much."

"After all, you gave me life, didn't you?"

My voice was soft, but every word felt like a poisoned steel needle.

"Don't worry, I'll soon…"

"Tell you the answer."