The door of the villa was suddenly opened.
Giselle Murphy, slumped on the sofa, turned to the door. Her husband, Lucian Clifford, was finally back.
Half an hour earlier, she had received a call from Lucian. He informed her that his sweetheart, Erin Brooks, needed another blood transfusion and asked her to prepare.
Both women shared the rare HR-negative blood type. Erin was certain that Lucian would once again request Giselle to be her donor.
Seeing that Giselle had dressed appropriately, Lucian expressed his approval, "Let's go."
Giselle glanced at her husband. He was dressed in a sleek black suit, his chiseled face as handsome as ever.
This was the man she had adored for three years, yet he regarded her as little more than a portable blood supply.
She, too, suffered from anemia and he was well aware that she couldn't afford another donation at the moment. But he didn't care.
Giselle's heart seemed bleeding, but she managed to maintain a steady voice. "Normally, blood donations are limited to once a month. Yet, you've been forcing me to donate more frequently. It's only been half a month since the last one. Do you understand the toll this is taking on my body? Lucian, do you wish for me to die?"
Lucian scoffed, his gaze filled with palpable disdain. "What now? Didn't you promise me that as long as we remained married, you'd donate your blood whenever I asked? Are you backing out now?"
Giselle's fists tightened, her slender fingers turning slightly pale.
This was the first time she had refused him, and it was met with his irritation. He was blind to the agony she endured with each blood donation!
She had hoped for at least a shred of sympathy from him, but what did she receive?
Seeing the unwillingness on Giselle's face, Lucian's patience wore thin. He snapped, "Don't think that I don't know what you are thinking. If it weren't for your blood's value to Erin, I would've divorced you a long time ago."
Each word he spoke felt like a sharp blade piercing Giselle's heart.
In his eyes, Giselle was nothing but a petty, jealous woman, reluctant to help someone on death's doorstep. But wasn't her life of equal value?
"If you're unwilling to go, there's no point in preserving this marriage."
These chilling words snapped Giselle back to reality. At last, the inevitable day had arrived. A bitter smile curled on her lips.
Indeed, there was no point. Why should she sacrifice her promising future to play the role of a submissive wife to a man who tormented her physically and emotionally?
She inhaled deeply, pulling out a document from a drawer.
There were two big words on the top.
She had already signed her name on it.
Lucian's eyes widened in shock. Before he could utter a word, Giselle interjected nonchalantly, "As you wish, I renounce all marital assets. My health has been the price I've paid over these years. Lucian, I'm granting you your freedom. From this point forward, we owe nothing to each other."
An hour later, she exited the villa for the last time.
As she was gathering her belongings, Lucian looked on, offering her another chance. If she would only agree to another transfusion for Erin, he would act as if nothing had happened.
Giselle couldn't help sneering. Did he really believe she'd continue to selflessly sacrifice after he'd so heartlessly trampled on her?
After all, it became easier for her to let go of things she had previously considered indispensable after she had been hurt to such an extent.
The sudden buzz of her phone dragged Giselle back to reality. Seeing the caller ID, she hesitated before finally picking up.
"What's going on?"
The caller sighed, sounding helpless. "Miss Murphy, I understand it's not ideal to disturb you, but the situation has spiraled out of control. You have to show up in person."