Chapter One The notification sound pierced through the silence of the room, its blue glow illuminating Pervis's pale face in the darkness. His trembling fingers struggled to unlock the phone screen as another wave of fever washed over him.

Anna: Need you at the hospital. Noah requires another transfusion. Come immediately.

Pervis stared at the message, his lips curving into a bitter smile that held no warmth. The phone felt impossibly heavy in his hands as he scrolled through their conversation history—a monotonous record of identical requests stretching back months. Every message from his wife followed the same pattern: hospital, blood transfusion, Noah.

"Always the same," he whispered to himself, his voice hoarse from the fever that had been burning through him for days.

Pervis put down his phone. He no longer wanted to keep obeying Anna’s orders. However, the notification sound from his phone kept ringing.

However, it was not Anna. The sender's address was unfamiliar, but curiosity compelled him to open it despite his weakened state. The image that loaded made his blood run cold.

The sender's address was unfamiliar, but curiosity compelled him to open it despite his weakened state. The image that loaded made his blood run cold.

Anna lay on a hospital bed, her clothes disheveled, her hair scattered across the pillow. But it wasn't the state of her appearance that struck him—it was the intimate way another man's hand rested on her shoulder, just visible at the edge of the frame.

The accompanying message was brief but devastating: "How can a loser like you still have the face to stay by Anna’s side? Don’t you see? Her love for me far surpasses her love for you—you’re the most unnecessary one in this relationship!"

Pervis's hands shook as he set the phone down. The fever that had been consuming him for days suddenly felt insignificant compared to the chill spreading through his chest. Four years of marriage reduced to this—a series of blood donations and a photograph that shattered every illusion he'd carefully maintained.

"Four years," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "Four years of giving everything."

Pervis’s hands trembled. Over the years, he had given everything to Anna. When she said she wanted to take care of her best friend’s younger brother, Noah, he unhesitatingly donated blood for him—almost every month, Anna forced him to give blood.

And yet, this was the outcome he got?

Thinking of the feelings he had guarded so carefully, only to be met with Anna’s growing indifference, Pervis felt his heart turn completely cold.

He had given Anna his true heart, believing that as long as he gave enough, Anna would eventually love him.

But when his sincerity was trampled on again and again, the photos Noah sent became the last straw that broke the camel’s back.

So many years of marriage now seemed like a joke, and perhaps it was time to end this farce once and for all.

Despite his weakness, Pervis forced himself to stand. His legs wobbled beneath him, but determination carried him forward. He pulled on his jacket with mechanical precision and stepped out into the cold night air.

The taxi ride to the hospital passed in a blur of streetlights and silence.

The hospital's fluorescent lights were harsh against his fevered skin as Pervis made his way through the familiar corridors. He'd walked these halls so many times that his feet carried him automatically to the hematology wing.

Anna stood outside Noah's room, her posture rigid and her expression cold. She wore the same designer coat she'd bought last month—with his money, he realized with a bitter twist of irony.

"You're late," she said without looking up from her phone. Her tone carried the same indifference she might use with a delivery person. "I texted you an hour ago."

Pervis studied his wife's face, searching for any trace of the woman he'd fallen in love with. Her features remained as beautiful as ever, but there was something hollow in her eyes when she finally looked at him.

"I said you're late, Pervis. Noah's been waiting."

"I heard you the first time," he replied, his voice steady despite the fever coursing through him.

Anna's eyebrows rose slightly at his tone—it was unlike him to respond with anything other than immediate compliance.

"Are you feeling unwell? You look terrible."

"I'm fine," Pervis said, though they both knew it was a lie. "But I have something to discuss with you before I give blood."

"Discuss?" Anna's lips pressed into a thin line. "What could we possibly need to discuss? Noah needs a transfusion, and you're the only compatible donor we trust. It's simple."

"Is it?" Pervis reached into his jacket pocket, his fingers closing around the folded papers he'd prepared weeks ago but never had the courage to present. "I want to make a deal with you, Anna."

Anna's expression shifted from impatience to suspicion. She crossed her arms, the gesture creating an invisible barrier between them.

"A deal? What kind of deal?" Anna's expression shifted to one of weary annoyance. "How much money do you want this time, Pervis? I've already given you more than enough to live comfortably. Must you always be so greedy?"

“Stop with your endless jealousy and childish temper. I’m only taking care of my best friend’s younger brother. Even if you want to sulk, there should be a limit,” Anna said with a frown of helplessness.

"I don't need a single penny," Pervis said calmly, his voice steady despite the fever burning through him. "I only need you to sign this document."

Anna's frown deepened as she stared at the papers in his hands. The fluorescent hospital lights cast harsh shadows across her face, making her expression appear even colder than usual.

"What is this document?" she demanded, her tone sharp with irritation.

Before Pervis could respond, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the corridor. A doctor in white scrubs rushed out of Noah's room, his face etched with concern and frustration.

"Mrs. Anna!" the doctor called out breathlessly. "Noah is throwing a tantrum again. He's refusing all treatment and demanding to see you. If you don't go in there right now, he won't cooperate with the transfusion procedure."

Anna's entire demeanor transformed in an instant. The cold mask she wore around Pervis melted away, replaced by a warm, pampering smile that lit up her features. It was a smile Pervis had never seen her direct toward him—not once in their four years of marriage.

"Of course, I'll be right there," Anna said softly to the doctor, her voice filled with genuine concern and affection.

Without even glancing at the document properly, Anna grabbed a pen from her purse and scrawled her signature across the bottom of the page. She thrust the papers back at Pervis with careless indifference.

"Whatever you want to buy, just buy it," she said dismissively, already turning toward Noah's room. "A new car, electronics, clothes—I don't care. As long as you keep giving Noah blood, I can agree to any request you have."

She paused at the doorway, not bothering to look back at him. "Just make sure you're ready for the transfusion in ten minutes."

With that, Anna disappeared into Noah's room, leaving Pervis standing alone in the sterile corridor. Through the slightly open door, he could hear her voice become gentle and soothing as she spoke to Noah.

Pervis looked down at the signed divorce papers in his hands, his face remaining completely expressionless. The document felt both weightless and infinitely heavy at the same time. After four years of being treated like nothing more than a walking blood bank, it was finally over.

In the silence of his heart, one thought echoed clearly: There will be no next time.

Chapter Two The sound of Pervis's footsteps echoed through the empty corridors of Anna's villa as he climbed the stairs to their bedroom. The spacious house, once a symbol of their shared dreams, now felt like a mausoleum of broken promises. He pulled out a worn duffel bag from the closet and began methodically folding his clothes.

"Four years," he muttered, holding up a shirt Anna had bought him for their second anniversary. "Four years of pretending everything was fine."

Each item he packed carried a memory—some sweet, others bitter. The watch she'd given him when he'd first started donating blood for Noah. The books he'd never finished reading because he was always rushing to the hospital. The acceptance letter from top university he'd hidden away, the doctoral program he'd abandoned to stay with her.

Pervis held the letter for a moment longer than necessary, his fingers tracing the university seal. "Perhaps that was my first mistake," he whispered, a self-mocking smile playing at his lips. "Choosing love over my future."

The sound of the front door opening interrupted his thoughts. Voices drifted up from the entrance hall—Anna's measured tones and Noah's weaker responses. Pervis continued packing, his movements steady and deliberate.

Footsteps approached the bedroom, and Anna appeared in the doorway, her arm supporting Noah's slight frame. The young man looked pale but alert, his eyes immediately finding Pervis.

"What are you doing up here?" Anna asked, though her tone lacked its usual sharpness. She seemed almost uncertain, as if she'd expected him to be waiting downstairs like always.

"Packing," Pervis replied without looking up from his bag.

Anna frowned, guiding Noah to sit on the edge of the bed. "Noah didn't want to stay at the hospital tonight. He says it's too noisy there, too many machines beeping. I thought it would be better for him to rest here."

Pervis nodded, folding another shirt. "Alright."

The simple response seemed to catch Anna off guard. She'd clearly been preparing for an argument, for the familiar pattern of his jealousy and her defensive explanations.

"That's it?" she pressed. "You're not going to say anything?"

"What would you like me to say?" Pervis asked calmly, finally meeting her eyes.

Anna's frown deepened. Something flickered across her face—disappointment? Confusion? She turned to Noah, who was watching the exchange with keen interest.

"You need to understand," Anna continued, her voice taking on that patient tone she used when explaining things to difficult patients. "Noah's sister was my best friend in college. When she died, I promised her I would take care of him. He's like family to me."

"I understand," Pervis said simply.

"I don't want you getting jealous for no reason again," Anna added, her voice growing slightly sharper. "Your suspicions are becoming tiresome."

"I'm not jealous," Pervis replied, zipping up his bag.

Anna stared at him, clearly unsettled by his calm demeanor. Noah shifted uncomfortably on the bed, his eyes darting between them.

"What's in the bag?" Anna asked suddenly, noticing the duffel for the first time.

Pervis lifted it effortlessly. "Just some old things I'm throwing away."

"Throwing away?" Anna's voice rose slightly. "Why are you throwing things away now? It's nearly midnight."

"I have some errands to run," Pervis said, moving toward the door.

Anna stepped into his path, blocking his exit. "Wait. I haven't eaten all day, and neither has Noah. Cook something for us first."

Pervis paused, looking at her expectant face. "I'm afraid I can't tonight. I have other things to handle."

"Other things?" Anna's eyes flashed with familiar anger. "What could possibly be more important than taking care of Noah? Are you still upset about my bringing him here?"

Noah chose that moment to speak up, his voice weak and tremulous. "Anna, please don't fight because of me. I can go back to the hospital. I don't want to cause problems between you two."

Anna's expression softened immediately as she turned to Noah. "Nonsense. You're not going anywhere. You need rest and proper food."

She turned back to Pervis, her voice hardening. "Whatever you think you need to do can wait. I'm telling you to cook dinner for Noah. He's been through enough today."

"Anna—"

"I don't want to hear excuses," she interrupted coldly. "You will cook dinner, and then you can do whatever it is you're planning. Those are my terms. Otherwise, you're not leaving this house tonight."

Pervis stood quietly for a long moment, studying his wife's determined face. The old Pervis would have argued, would have pleaded for understanding. But the man holding the divorce papers in his jacket pocket simply nodded.

"Very well," he said, setting down his bag.

Anna's posture relaxed slightly, satisfaction replacing the tension in her shoulders. "Good. Noah, you rest here. I'm going to change out of these clothes and freshen up. I'll be down in a few minutes."

As Anna disappeared into the bathroom, Noah remained on the bed, his pale eyes following Pervis's movements. The moment they were alone, his expression changed completely.

"You know," Noah said conversationally, "I've been wondering something."

Pervis paused in the doorway but didn't respond.

"You're really something, aren't you?" Noah said, his voice dripping with contempt. "Still hanging around like a lost dog when it's obvious Anna can't stand the sight of you."

Pervis continued chopping vegetables, his expression unchanged.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" Noah pressed, stepping closer. "Or maybe you already know the truth—that you're nothing but a convenient blood donor. Anna doesn't need a husband, she needs a walking medical supply."

Still no response from Pervis, which only fueled Noah's anger.

"You disgust me," Noah hissed. "A real man would have some pride. But you? You just keep crawling back, begging for scraps of attention. Pathetic."

He looked at him, and at that moment Noah thought he would react, but instead he turned his gaze back to cooking, in a calm attitude.

Noah's smile faltered at the lack of reaction. "Doesn't that make you angry? Doesn't it hurt to know your wife would rather spend time with another man?"

"Should it?" Pervis asked.

The calm response seemed to infuriate Noah. His cheeks flushed with color as he struggled to sit up straighter.

"You really are pathetic," Noah spat. "No wonder Anna has given up on you."

The sound of Anna's footsteps on the stairs interrupted their exchange. Noah's expression immediately shifted back to one of innocent frailty.

"I should start cooking," Pervis said quietly, heading toward the kitchen.

Noah watched him go, frustration evident in his tight jaw. As Pervis reached the kitchen, he heard Noah call out softly:

"Anna's coming downstairs. Want to see something interesting?"

Pervis began pulling ingredients from the refrigerator, his movements methodical and precise. He could hear Anna's heels clicking on the hardwood floors as she approached the kitchen.

Noah appeared in the doorway, a cunning smile playing at his lips. "You know, Pervis," he said casually, "I think I should prove something to you right now."

"Prove what?" Pervis asked, not looking up from the vegetables he was washing.

"That Anna loves me more than she ever loved you."

Before Pervis could respond, Noah moved swiftly. He grabbed Pervis's hand—the one holding the kitchen knife—and in one quick motion, deliberately pressed the blade against his own palm.

"Ah!" Noah cried out loudly, shaking his hand away as blood welled up from the shallow cut. "Please don't hurt me! I was wrong!"

The sound of running footsteps filled the hallway as Anna rushed toward the kitchen, her face pale with alarm.

Chapter Three The kitchen knife clattered to the floor as Pervis stared in shock at Noah's bleeding hand. The young man's face was contorted in mock pain, tears streaming down his cheeks as he cradled his injured palm against his chest.

"I'm sorry!" Noah sobbed, his voice carrying through the house like a wounded animal's cry. "I was wrong! I won't try to destroy your relationship anymore!"

Pervis stood frozen, his mind struggling to process what had just happened. The shamelessness of it, the calculated cruelty—he hadn't expected Noah to go this far.

"What happened? What's wrong?" Anna's voice echoed from the hallway, panic evident in her tone.

Her heels clicked rapidly against the hardwood floor as she rushed toward the kitchen. She burst through the doorway, her eyes immediately finding Noah hunched over his bleeding hand.

"Noah! Your arm is bleeding!" Anna rushed to his side, her face pale with concern. "What happened here?"

Noah looked up at her with watery eyes, his lower lip trembling. "I... I just wanted to help in the kitchen," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I thought if I showed some goodwill, maybe Pervis wouldn't hate me so much."

"Help? What do you mean help?" Anna demanded, gently taking his injured hand to examine the cut.

"I saw him preparing dinner and thought I could assist with something simple," Noah continued, wincing as Anna touched his palm. "But when I approached, Pervis became angry. He said I had no right to be in his kitchen."

Anna's eyes snapped to Pervis, who remained standing by the counter, his face a mask of disbelief.

"You got angry at him for trying to help?" Anna's voice was low and dangerous.

"Anna, that's not—" Pervis began.

"I think it was an accident," Noah interrupted quickly, his voice taking on a considerate tone despite his obvious pain. "Pervis was cutting vegetables when I startled him. He probably didn't mean to... Please don't blame him for this. It's my fault for getting too close."

Anna's expression grew even darker as she processed Noah's words. Her eyes fixed on Pervis with an icy stare that could have frozen fire.

"An accident?" she repeated, her voice suppressed with barely controlled anger. "You're telling me this was an accident?"

"Anna, listen to me—" Pervis started, his own anger beginning to rise.

"You jealous, pathetic man," Anna cut him off, her voice trembling with fury. "You wanted to hurt Noah over something so trivial? Over him trying to help in the kitchen?"

Pervis's hands clenched into fists at his sides. "I didn't do anything! This is all Noah's self-directed performance!"

"A performance?" Anna's laugh was cold and bitter. "Are you saying Noah cut himself deliberately?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying," Pervis replied, his voice rising. "He grabbed my hand and—"

"No, no," Noah whispered quickly, shaking his head. "Pervis is right. It was my own carelessness. I shouldn't have gotten so close while he was working with a knife. This is all my fault."

The apparent humility in Noah's voice only served to fuel Anna's rage further. Her face flushed red as she turned back to Pervis.

"Even when you've hurt him, he's still defending you! How can you stand there and lie to my face?"

"I'm not lying!" Pervis shouted, his composure finally cracking. "There's surveillance in this kitchen, Anna. Check the cameras if you don't believe me. You'll see exactly what happened!"

Noah's face went pale, and for just a moment, genuine fear flickered in his eyes. He hadn't known about any security cameras.

"Surveillance?" he stammered, glancing nervously around the kitchen.

But Anna's cold voice cut through the air before Noah could process his mistake fully.

"Check what surveillance?" she said icily, not taking her eyes off Pervis. "I don't need to check anything. I saw everything with my own eyes when I walked in here."

"You saw nothing!" Pervis protested. "You arrived after he had already cut himself!"

"I saw you standing over him with a knife while he was bleeding and crying," Anna replied, her voice deadly calm. "I saw enough."

Pervis felt his heart sink as he realized the futility of his position. "Anna, please. You know me. You know I wouldn't—"

"I thought I knew you," Anna interrupted, her voice filled with disgust. "But I was wrong. I never imagined you were capable of being so vile, so cruel to someone who's already suffered so much."

She turned her attention back to Noah, her voice immediately softening. "Come on, let me get you to the hospital. That cut needs proper attention."

"I'm fine, really," Noah said weakly, though he made no move to resist as Anna helped him to his feet. "I don't want to cause any more trouble."

"You're not causing trouble," Anna assured him, shooting another venomous look at Pervis. "The only trouble here is standing right there, denying what he's done."

Anna guided Noah toward the kitchen door, then paused and called out loudly.

"Marcus! David! Come here immediately!"

Heavy footsteps echoed through the house as two large men appeared in the doorway—Anna's personal security team.

"Yes, Mrs. Morrison?" the taller one asked, his eyes taking in the scene.

"Lock him in the basement," Anna ordered, pointing at Pervis. "Make sure he can't leave."

"Anna, you can't be serious," Pervis said, his voice filled with disbelief.

"I'm taking Noah to the hospital now," she continued, ignoring her husband completely. "When I return, I'll decide how to deal with this... situation."

Marcus stepped forward, his expression apologetic but determined. "I'm sorry, Mr. Tyler. We have to follow Mrs. Morrison’s orders."

"This is insane," Pervis muttered, backing away from the approaching men. "Anna, at least let me explain—"

"Explain what?" Anna snapped. "How do you deliberately hurt an innocent man out of petty jealousy? How did you lie to my face about it afterward?"

"I didn't hurt anyone!" Pervis shouted one final time.

But Anna was already leading Noah out of the kitchen, her arm protectively around his shoulders. Noah glanced back once, and for just a split second, Pervis caught a glimpse of the satisfied smirk that flickered across his face before it was replaced by his mask of pain and innocence.

"Come on, sir," Marcus said, reaching for Pervis's arm. "Don't make this harder than it needs to be."

Chapter Four Marcus and David moved forward with practiced efficiency, their faces apologetic but resolute. The kitchen suddenly felt smaller as the two bodyguards approached Pervis from either side.

"Please don't resist, Mr. Tyler," Marcus said quietly. "We're just following orders."

Pervis backed against the counter, his eyes darting between the two men. "Wait, listen to me. I have claustrophobia—I can't be locked in enclosed spaces."

"I'm sorry, sir, but we have our instructions," David replied, reaching for Pervis's arm.

The moment their hands touched him, Pervis's composure cracked completely. "No, you don't understand! I have a medical condition—I can't be confined!"

His voice rose to a shout as both men grabbed him firmly, pinning his arms to his sides. Pervis struggled against their grip, panic already beginning to claw at the edges of his consciousness.

"Anna!" he called out tersely. "You know I can't handle confined spaces. This is a mistake."

Anna paused in the doorway, Noah still leaning against her for support. Her expression remained cold and unmoved as she looked back at her husband.

"I don't care what condition you think you have," she said icily. "You hurt an innocent person, and now you must pay the price for your actions."

"This won't solve anything, Anna," Pervis said through gritted teeth, his jaw clenched as he fought to maintain control. "You're making the wrong choice."

But Anna had already turned away, her attention focused entirely on Noah. "Come on, we need to get that wound properly treated."

"Thank you for protecting me," Noah whispered loud enough for Pervis to hear, his voice weak but carrying an undertone of satisfaction.

As Anna guided Noah toward the front door, the young man glanced back over his shoulder. The moment Anna's attention was elsewhere, his expression transformed. The mask of pain and innocence slipped away, replaced by a triumphant smile that was pure malice. His eyes locked with Pervis's for just a moment, and he mouthed a single word: "Goodbye."

"Anna," Pervis called out, his voice steady despite the fear building inside him. "Don't leave me here. This is wrong and you know it."

But the front door was already closing behind them, the sound echoing through the house like a death knell.

"Come on, Mr. Tyler," Marcus said gently, his voice genuinely sympathetic. "The sooner we get this over with, the better."

They dragged Pervis across the kitchen floor, his feet scrambling for purchase on the polished tiles. The basement door loomed ahead like the mouth of a tomb.

"This could kill me," Pervis said grimly, his voice low and controlled despite the tremor in his hands. "I'm not exaggerating about the claustrophobia."

"Mrs. Morrison will be back soon," David said uncomfortably. "I'm sure she'll let you out once she's calmed down."

The basement door creaked open, revealing a yawning black void below. The musty smell of the underground space hit Pervis like a physical blow, and his entire body began to shake uncontrollably.

"I won't forget this," he said quietly, his breathing becoming rapid and shallow despite his efforts to stay composed. "Either of you."

But the bodyguards were already guiding him down the wooden steps. Each creak of the boards beneath their feet sounded like a countdown to his doom.

"You're making a serious mistake," Pervis said, his voice tight with barely controlled panic. "When Anna comes to her senses, she'll regret this decision."

The basement was worse than he'd remembered—a cramped concrete space filled with forgotten furniture and storage boxes. A single bare bulb hung from the ceiling, casting harsh shadows in every corner.

"We're really sorry about this, Mr. Tyler," Marcus said as they reached the bottom of the stairs. "But we have our orders."

They released his arms and stepped back toward the stairs. Pervis immediately lunged forward, but David blocked his path.

"At least leave the light on," Pervis demanded, his voice steady despite the fear coursing through him.

"The light stays," Marcus nodded. "That much we can do."

They climbed the stairs quickly, and the door slammed shut above him with a sound like thunder. The click of the lock echoed through the small space, sealing Pervis's fate.

"This isn't over!" Pervis shouted, pounding his fists against the door once before stepping back, forcing himself to breathe slowly.

But the house above remained silent. Anna was gone, taking Noah to the hospital, and the bodyguards had probably retreated to their quarters to wait for her return.

The walls seemed to be closing in already. Despite his efforts to stay strong, Pervis's breathing became more labored as the familiar panic began to rise in his chest. Cold sweat broke out across his forehead and palms.

"Stay in control," he whispered to himself through clenched teeth. "Don't let them break you."

But the memories were already flooding back—being five years old, stuffed into a dark closet by strangers who had come to take him away from everything he'd ever known. The social workers had found him hours later, catatonic with fear, and that was the last time he'd seen his childhood home.

His legs gave out, and he collapsed to his knees on the cold concrete floor. The trembling spread through his entire body as his panic disorder took hold, his earlier resolve crumbling under the weight of his phobia.

"No..." he whispered brokenly, his tough facade finally breaking. "Anna... please come back."

But there was no answer, only the oppressive silence of his concrete tomb.

Time became meaningless in the darkness of his mind. Minutes felt like hours as Pervis fought against the waves of panic that threatened to drown him completely.

Then, suddenly, sounds erupted from above—shouting, running footsteps, what sounded like furniture being overturned.

"What's happening?" Pervis called weakly, though he could barely summon the strength to speak.

The sounds of conflict continued for several more minutes before an eerie silence fell over the house. Pervis strained his ears, trying to understand what had occurred.

Footsteps on the stairs above—but these were different. Lighter, more urgent.

"Hello?" a woman's voice called from behind the door. "Is someone down there?"

"Help me," Pervis managed to croak. "Please help me."

The lock clicked, and the door swung open. Light from the kitchen above poured down the stairs like salvation itself.

A beautiful woman appeared at the top of the stairs—tall, elegant, with long dark hair and worried eyes. She rushed down toward him without hesitation.

"Oh my God, what have they done to you?" she gasped, kneeling beside his trembling form.

"I can't... I can't breathe," Pervis whispered, his vision blurring at the edges.

The woman wrapped her arms around him, pulling him against her chest. Her voice was strong and commanding as she shouted up the stairs.

"Call an ambulance immediately! This man needs medical attention now!"

Those were the last words Pervis heard before consciousness slipped away from him entirely.

When awareness returned, it came slowly, like emerging from deep water. The first thing Pervis noticed was the softness of the bed beneath him, so different from the cold concrete of the basement floor.

"You're awake," a gentle voice said beside him.

Pervis turned his head to see the same beautiful woman sitting in a chair next to his hospital bed. Her face brightened with relief when she saw his eyes focus on her.

"Doctor!" she called toward the hallway. "He's conscious!"

A middle-aged man in a white coat appeared moments later, smiling warmly as he approached the bed.

"Well, well," the doctor said cheerfully, checking Pervis's pulse. "Welcome back to the land of the living, Mr. Tyler. How are you feeling?"

"Weak," Pervis admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But better."

"Everything looks normal now," the doctor continued, shining a small flashlight in Pervis's eyes. "Your vitals are stable, and your panic attack has completely subsided. You're going to be just fine."

The woman beside the bed let out a long sigh of relief, her shoulders sagging as tension left her body.

"Thank you," Pervis said weakly, looking between the doctor and his mysterious savior. "Both of you."

"Don't thank me yet," the doctor chuckled. "Thank this young lady here. She's the one who got you to the hospital in time."

As the doctor left to check on other patients, Pervis turned his full attention to the woman who had saved him.

"I don't understand," he said softly. "Who are you? Why did you help me?"

The woman smiled, and something familiar flickered in her eyes—something that reminded him of looking in a mirror.

"I'm your sister, Pervis," she said gently. "My name is Aria."

Pervis stared at her in shock. "My sister? But I don't have any family. I've been alone since I was five years old."

"Not anymore," Aria replied, taking his hand in hers. "I've been looking for you for years. And now that I've found you, I'm here to take you home."

Chapter Five Pervis's eyes widened in disbelief, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air. The word echoed in his mind, foreign and impossible.

"Sister?" he whispered, staring at Aria's familiar yet strange face. "But that can't be right. I'm an orphan. My grandmother found me at the orphanage when I was six years old."

Aria leaned forward in her chair, her expression gentle but serious. "Pervis, there's so much you don't know about your past. I've been searching for you for fifteen years, and—"

The shrill ring of Pervis's phone cut through her explanation like a blade. The device vibrated violently on the hospital bedside table, Anna's name flashing insistently on the screen.

Pervis hesitated, his hand hovering over the phone. "I should answer it."

"Are you sure?" Aria asked, concerned flickering in her eyes.

Pervis nodded grimly and accepted the call. "Hello, Anna."

Anna's voice came through the speaker like ice water, sharp and merciless. "Well, well. I didn't expect you to grow so bold, Pervis."

"What do you mean?" Pervis asked, though he could already sense the venom in her tone.

"Don't play innocent with me," Anna sneered. "Breaking into my villa, hooking up with some random woman. Did you think I wouldn't find out?"

Pervis's grip tightened on the phone. "I didn't break into anywhere. Your bodyguards locked me in the basement, remember?"

"And yet somehow you escaped," Anna continued coldly. "With your new girlfriend, no doubt. How romantic."

Aria watched Pervis's face grow paler with each word, her own expression hardening.

"Anna, listen to me—"

"No, you listen," Anna's voice cut him off. "Since you want to play games, I'll show you what happens to disobedient husbands. Consider your grandmother's medical expenses officially terminated. I'm having her thrown out of the hospital as we speak."

The blood drained from Pervis's face completely. "What did you say?"

"You heard me perfectly," Anna replied with satisfaction. "The old woman will be on the street within the hour. After all, why should I continue supporting the family of a man who deliberately attacks innocent people?"

"Anna, you can't do this!" Pervis shouted, his voice cracking with desperation. "My grandmother has nothing to do with what happened! Do you have any humanity left?"

Anna's laugh was like broken glass. "Humanity? Why should I show humanity to a useless man who deliberately hurts others?"

"I didn't hurt anyone!" Pervis protested.

"There is one way you can fix this," Anna continued as if he hadn't spoken. "Kneel before Noah and apologize for what you did. Beg his forgiveness like the pathetic man you are, and maybe I'll reconsider."

Rage boiled up in Pervis's chest, his entire body trembling with fury. "I will never—"

Before he could finish, Aria smoothly took the phone from his shaking hands.

"Who is this?" Anna's voice demanded through the speaker.

"This is someone you should be very careful about crossing," Aria replied, her voice even colder than Anna's had been. "Pervis belongs to me now. If you dare to threaten him or his family again, you should be prepared for the consequences."

Silence stretched across the line for several heartbeats.

"And who exactly do you think you are?" Anna finally asked, though her voice had lost some of its earlier confidence.

"Someone with far more power than you can imagine," Aria replied calmly. "Consider this your only warning."

Without another word, Aria ended the call and immediately blocked Anna's number, her fingers moving across the screen with practiced efficiency.

When she looked back at Pervis, her expression had softened considerably, though traces of pity lingered in her eyes.

"I've investigated everything about your marriage, Pervis," she said gently. "Anna Morrison isn't worthy of your love. She never was."

Pervis stared down at his hands, his voice barely audible. "I know. I've known for a long time, actually."

"Then why did you stay?"

"My grandmother," Pervis replied simply. "Anna controls her medical care, her housing, everything. I was preparing to leave quietly, to take Grandmother somewhere safe, but now..." He trailed off, despair evident in his voice.

"Now Anna's forcing your hand before you're ready," Aria finished for him.

"My grandmother is sick, Aria. Without proper medical care, she could die. I can't let that happen because of my mistakes."

Before Aria could respond, the sound of raised voices echoed from the hospital corridor outside their room. Pervis's head snapped up, his eyes widening with recognition.

"That's Grandmother's voice," he whispered.

The voices grew louder, accompanied by the sound of wheels squeaking and items being roughly handled.

Pervis jumped up from the hospital bed, ignoring the IV line still attached to his arm, and rushed to the door. When he pulled it open, his worst fears were confirmed.

Three nurses were wheeling his grandmother's bed down the corridor, their expressions hard and unsympathetic. The elderly woman looked frail and confused, her gray hair disheveled and her hospital gown askew.

"Where are you taking me?" his grandmother called out weakly. "I don't understand what's happening."

"Stop!" Pervis shouted, stepping into the hallway. "Stop right there!"

The lead nurse, a heavyset woman with bleached blonde hair and a perpetual scowl, barely glanced at him.

"Stay out of this," she snapped. "We're following direct orders from the bill payer. This patient's coverage has been terminated."

"You can't just throw a sick woman out on the street!" Pervis protested, starting toward them.

"Watch us," the nurse replied with a cruel smile. "The old lady should have raised a son who could actually afford her medical bills instead of relying on charity from others."

"How dare you speak about my grandmother that way!" Pervis's voice shook with rage as he took another step forward.

"Pervis, dear, is that you?" His grandmother's voice was weak but filled with relief. "What's happening? These people are being very rough with me."

"Don't worry, Grandmother," Pervis called to her. "I'll fix this."

The lead nurse laughed harshly. "Fix it? With what money? Face the reality, boy. Your sugar mama cut you off, and now grandma pays the price."

Pervis clenched his fists, ready to fight all three nurses if necessary, but a gentle hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Don't worry," Aria said calmly, stepping up beside him. Her voice carried a trace of coldness that hadn't been there moments before. "I'll take care of everything here."

Chapter Six Aria stepped forward with fluid grace, her heels clicking authoritatively against the hospital's polished floor. The three nurses continued wheeling Pervis's grandmother down the corridor, their faces set in stubborn determination.

"Put her down," Aria commanded, her voice carrying an unmistakable tone of authority.

The lead nurse turned around, her expression morphing from indifference to outright hostility when she saw Aria approaching.

"And who exactly do you think you are?" the nurse sneered. "Another one of his little girlfriends? This doesn't concern you, sweetheart."

"Put the patient down immediately," Aria repeated, her voice growing colder with each word.

The second nurse, a thin woman with sharp features, laughed mockingly. "Listen here, princess. We have direct orders from Anna Morrison herself to remove this old hag from the premises. She's no longer a patient here."

"Orders from Anna Morrison?" Aria's eyebrows rose slightly. "How interesting."

"That's right," the lead nurse said smugly. "Mrs. Morrison owns ten percent of this hospital and sits on the board of directors. When she gives orders, we follow them. So unless you want security to escort you out too, I suggest you mind your own business."

Pervis watched helplessly as his grandmother's confused eyes searched for him from the hospital bed. Her frail hand reached out toward him.

"Pervis? What's happening, dear? Why are these people being so rough?"

"It's going to be okay, Grandmother," Pervis called to her, though his voice shook with barely controlled emotion.

Aria remained perfectly calm, pulling out her phone with deliberate slowness. She pressed a single button and spoke clearly.

"Jackson, I need you at Metropolitan General Hospital immediately. Bring the team."

"Jackson?" the thin nurse scoffed. "Who's Jackson? Your bodyguard boyfriend?"

Before Aria could respond, the elevator doors at the end of the hallway opened with a soft chime. Six men in perfectly tailored black suits stepped out, their movements coordinated and purposeful.

"Ma'am," the lead man said respectfully, approaching Aria with measured steps.

"Handle this situation," Aria instructed simply, gesturing toward the three nurses.

The men in black moved forward without hesitation, their presence immediately changing the atmosphere in the corridor. The nurses' confident expressions faltered as they found themselves surrounded.

"What is this?" the lead nurse demanded, though her voice had lost much of its earlier bravado. "You can't intimidate us! We're hospital employees!"

"Release the patient," one of the men said calmly.

Pervis didn't wait for the nurses to comply. He rushed forward, gently taking his grandmother's hand in his.

"I'm here, Grandmother," he said softly. "Everything's going to be alright."

But even as he spoke, he could see that her condition had worsened. Her breathing was labored, and her skin had taken on a grayish pallor that filled him with dread.

"She needs immediate medical attention," Aria observed, her trained eye taking in the elderly woman's declining state. She turned to the nurses with steel in her voice. "Get a doctor here now."

"We can't!" the thin nurse protested. "Anna Morrison specifically ordered us to—"

"I don't care about Anna Morrison's orders," Aria interrupted. "This woman needs medical care."

The lead nurse straightened defiantly. "Mrs. Morrison is a board member of this hospital. She holds ten percent of the shares. We have to follow her directives, not yours."

Aria's expression grew thoughtful for a moment, then a slow smile spread across her lips—a smile that somehow managed to be both beautiful and terrifying.

"Ten percent?" she mused. "How... quaint."

She pulled out her phone again, this time scrolling through her contacts with deliberate care.

"What are you doing?" the thin nurse demanded.

"Buying the hospital," Aria replied casually, as if discussing the weather.

Everyone in the corridor froze. Pervis stared at his supposed sister in shock, while the nurses exchanged uncertain glances.

"You can't just buy a hospital!" the lead nurse sputtered.

"Can't I?" Aria asked, pressing a number on her phone. "Davidson? Yes, it's me. I need you to purchase Metropolitan General Hospital immediately. Full acquisition, controlling interest... Yes, right now."

She ended the call and looked at Pervis, whose face had gone white with amazement.

"Should I give the order to finalize the acquisition, brother?" Aria asked, her tone gentle but her eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

Pervis opened and closed his mouth several times before finding his voice. "I... I don't understand. How can you just..."

"You're the heir to our family now," Aria explained with a warm smile. "That means these people work for you. All you have to do is give the order."

The nurses, the bodyguards, even the patients who had gathered to watch the commotion—everyone stared at Pervis in stunned silence. They all knew him as Anna Morrison's useless husband, the man who existed solely to donate blood and endure humiliation. The transformation was incomprehensible.

Pervis looked down at his grandmother's weak form, then back at Aria's expectant face. He took a deep breath, straightening his shoulders.

"Buy the hospital," he declared loudly, his voice echoing off the corridor walls.

"Did you hear that?" Aria asked the nurses sweetly. "The new owner has spoken."

Before anyone could respond, a condescending laugh echoed from behind them. All heads turned to see a tall man in an expensive suit striding down the corridor, his silver hair perfectly styled and his face wearing an expression of supreme arrogance.

"Buy the hospital?" the man repeated, his voice dripping with mockery. "What is this, some kind of children's game?"

Pervis's stomach dropped as he recognized the speaker. "Charles Henderson," he muttered.

"Dr. Charles Henderson," the hospital director corrected with a sneer. "And you're still the same pathetic boy toy I've always known, aren't you, Pervis? Living off Anna Morrison's generosity while pretending to be something you're not."

Charles looked Aria up and down with obvious disdain. "And this must be your new sugar mama. Tell me, darling, how much are you paying for his services these days?"

Aria's expression remained perfectly composed, though her eyes had turned to ice. "How amusing."

"What's amusing," Charles continued, warming to his theme, "is watching two delusional people think they can intimidate their betters with ridiculous threats. Buy the hospital? Please. Do you have any idea how much this facility is worth?"

"Enlighten me," Aria said pleasantly.

Charles puffed out his chest proudly. "Two billion dollars, my dear. Not exactly pocket change for people like you."

"People like me?" Aria repeated, her smile growing sharper. "And what kind of person do you think I am, Dr. Henderson?"

"The kind who picks up desperate men from hospital beds and feeds them fantasies about power they'll never possess," Charles replied smugly.

Aria's laugh was soft but somehow more menacing than any shout. "We'll see about that. Perhaps you've heard of the Coleman family?"

The name hit the corridor like a thunderbolt. Everyone—nurses, bodyguards, even passing patients—went completely silent. Charles's confident expression wavered for just a moment before returning full force.

"The Coleman family?" he scoffed. "You expect me to believe you're connected to one of the wealthiest families in the country? That's utterly non-sense."

"Is it?" Aria asked, pulling out her phone once more. "Perhaps you'd like proof."

"This should be entertaining," Charles said, though his voice had lost some of its earlier conviction.

Aria pressed a single contact and held the phone to her ear. "It's me. I need you at Metropolitan General Hospital. Fifth floor, east wing. Immediately."

She ended the call and checked her watch with theatrical precision. "Thirty seconds should be sufficient."

Charles laughed nervously. "Thirty seconds? What kind of—"

The elevator chimed, and an elderly man in an impeccably tailored suit stepped out. His hair was silver-white, and his face bore the kind of smile that came from years of practiced diplomacy.

Charles's eyes lit up with vindication. "Perfect timing! Chairman Williams, thank goodness you're here. These people are causing a disturbance and making ridiculous claims about buying the hospital. I will surely teach them a lesson."

The chairman's gaze swept across the scene, taking in the nurses, the bodyguards, and finally settling on Aria. His face brightened immediately.

"Miss Coleman," he said respectfully, approaching her with obvious deference. "What an unexpected pleasure to see you here."

Charles stood frozen in the corridor, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly as his brain struggled to process what he was witnessing. His face had drained of all color, leaving him looking like a marble statue of confusion and terror.

"Chairman Williams?" Charles's voice came out as barely a whisper, trembling with disbelief. "You... you know these people?"

Chairman Williams bowed his head respectfully toward Aria, completely ignoring Charles's question. "Miss Coleman, I had no idea you were visiting our facility today. Had I known, I would have ensured you received our finest accommodations."

Aria's smile was sharp as a blade, beautiful and deadly in equal measure. "Oh, I'm not here for medical care, Chairman Williams. I'm here because your staff has been treating the grandmother of the Coleman family heir with shocking disrespect."

The chairman's face went ashen. "The Coleman family heir?"

"My brother," Aria said simply, gesturing toward Pervis.

Charles let out a strangled laugh that sounded more like a sob. "That's impossible! He's just... he's Anna Morrison's husband! He's nobody!"

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

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The notification sound pierced through the silence of the room, its blue glow illuminating Pervis's pale face in the darkness. His trembling fingers struggled to unlock the phone screen as another wave of fever washed over him.

Anna: Need you at the hospital. Noah requires another transfusion. Come immediately.

Pervis stared at the message, his lips curving into a bitter smile that held no warmth. The phone felt impossibly heavy in his hands as he scrolled through their conversation history—a monotonous record of identical requests stretching back months. Every message from his wife followed the same pattern: hospital, blood transfusion, Noah.

"Always the same," he whispered to himself, his voice hoarse from the fever that had been burning through him for days.

Then came another alert. Not from Anna. An unknown sender. Curiosity compelled him to open it despite his weakened state. The image that loaded made his blood run cold.

Anna lay on a hospital bed, clothes disheveled, hair scattered across the pillow. But it wasn't her appearance—it was the intimate way another man's hand rested on her shoulder, just visible at the edge of the frame.

The accompanying message cut deeper than any blade: "How can a loser like you still have the face to stay by Anna’s side? Don’t you see? Her love for me far surpasses her love for you—you’re the most unnecessary one in this relationship!"

Pervis set the phone down, hands shaking. Four years of marriage reduced to this—a series of blood donations and a photograph that shattered every illusion.

He reached into his jacket pocket, fingers closing around the folded divorce papers he'd prepared weeks ago but never had the courage to present.

Now, there was no turning back.

But before he could act, the front door slammed open downstairs. Footsteps echoed up the stairs. They were coming for him.