Chapter 2
I stood frozen in place, utterly lost.
The doctor gave me an apologetic look before cold anesthesia flooded my veins.
As I collapsed onto the gurney, Jack’s voice softened unusually:
“Even with one eye, the Garcias will provide for you forever. You’re not losing out.”
Only overwhelming hatred and scalding tears filled my vision-no words could escape me.
Before darkness consumed me, a nurse gasped:
“We can’t draw more! She’ll die-she just had a termination…”
Jack cut her off impatiently:
“This blood’s insufficient. Keep drawing-excess beats shortage.”
Three days later, I awoke from the abyss.
The world tilted strangely through my single functioning eye.
Merely shifting caused vertigo.
In the adjacent hospital bed, Jack spoon-fed Deborah herbal tonic.
Spotting my consciousness, Deborah chirped:
“Jack! Emily’s awake! Go check on her!”
He glanced my way reluctantly:
“She’s visible enough. Sturdy as an ox-nothing’s wrong. Open up, finish your broth.”
Deborah playfully thumped his shoulder:
“Honestly! You’ll turn me and baby into little piggies!”
Turning, she deliberately jingled the family heirloom bracelet on her wrist, smiling sweetly:
“Don’t mind Jack, Emily. He’s just overly protective of us.”
“He
gave me the Garcia heirloom-said it safeguards our health.”
“And thank you for the cornea and blood transfusion! Though sadly, most blood got discarded.”
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Chapter 2
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I shut my exhausted eyes, swallowing back tears.
Only after ensuring Deborah’s fullness did Jack approach my bed, his tone flat:
“Call doctors if you feel unwell. Don’t suffer silently.”
“Up you go. Here’s leftover soup-manage a few bites.”
I turned from the congealed scraps:
“Not hungry. Move me to another room.”
The adjacent “green tea” whimpered softly:
“Jack… does Emily hate me?”
He slammed the food container onto the nightstand, scowling:
“Emily Lopez-threaten Deborah again, I’ll scatter your parents’ ashes!”
I drew a shuddering breath, voice desolate:
“Jack. I’ve lost an eye. For all my years complying with your demands… grant me privacy to process this reality?”
“Please?”
Jack faltered, guilt flickering in his eyes.
“F-fine then.”
He carried Deborah straight to the VIP suite.
I pressed the call button. A nurse returned my confiscated phone.
99+ missed calls glared back.
The call connected instantly, Aaron’s voice frantic:
“Emily?
What happened? Why ignore calls? I’m going crazy with worry!”
“You don’t need to worry, I… I’m at the hospital…”
“Which hospital?
What happened? Are you okay?
I’m coming right now!”
My nose stung as tears threatened to fall.
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“Aaron, I’ve gone blind…”
“What!
Was it that bastard Jack?”
“Don’t be sad. I’ll come get you right away. He won’t hurt you again.”
“No. Some things… I need to handle myself. Don’t worry, I’ll find you after it’s done.”
Just then, Jack pushed open the hospital door holding a bowl of plain congee, his brow furrowed.
“Who are you calling?
Where are you going?”
Jack’s fingers tightened unconsciously, a nameless dread gripping him.
I set down my phone. Thinking of finally leaving lifted the weight off my chest.
My voice stayed flat:
“Just my monthly check-in with Terry…”
Jack’s tense expression relaxed. He suddenly raised his voice:
“Emily, I’m warning you-don’t breathe a word about Deborah’s pregnancy!”
I watched him calmly:
“But Terry’s coming back. When he sees I lost the baby and went blind, he’ll investigate.”
Jack thought for a moment, then nodded.
“Go abroad. Lay low for a while.”
“Come back after Deborah gives birth. Say you got shot in a crossfire overseas. Terry won’t suspect a thing.”
Jack smiled, pleased with his own plan.
I lowered my gaze, voice detached:
“Fine. But first-return my parents’ urns.”
Jack didn’t hesitate:
“Deal.”
Only when I glanced at the congee did he remember to hand it over:
“Here. Deborah ordered this for you. After all you’ve done, she still worries you’re hungry. Only someone as kind as her would let you bully her like this.”
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Chapter 2
Bully her?
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I hadn’t known until after our engagement-back when Jack had amnesia-that he had an unapproved “true love.”
I felt guilty. Tried to compensate her. But at our first meeting, she slapped me twice, eyes blazing.
Called me a slut. A homewrecker.
Yet around Jack, she played the sweet angel, coaxing his memories back.
On our wedding day, Deborah slit her wrists. The bloodbath shocked Jack’s memories awake.
From that day, I lived in hell.
Jack poured all his devotion into her.
My pregnancy? An accident. He’d been drugged. Reporters swarmed downstairs.
With the Garcia Group expanding globally, he couldn’t risk a scandal. So he came to me.
Jack’s face hardened when I didn’t take the bowl:
“Don’t tell me you want me to feed you?
Keep dreaming!”
His voice snapped me back. I laughed coldly, took the bowl, and ate two bites.
Jack left, saying he’d visit when he had time.
I knew he wouldn’t.
Exactly as I expected. Every day of my hospital stay, Deborah privately sent me their intimate vacation photos.
“Emily, doesn’t it hurt? Watching Jack and me in love every day?”
“One little scheme cost you your baby, your parents, and nearly your life.”
“That title was never yours. Do us all a favor-disappear.”
I calmly replied:
“Aren’t you afraid I’ll screenshot this and send it to Jack?”
The other end stayed silent, only retracting messages one by one.
