Chapter 2

Hearing those words, my heart shattered. My body couldn't stop shaking.

Just then, the doctor walked up to Tristan Vance respectfully and reported:

"Mr. Vance, as you requested, we have successfully transplanted Clara Davis's kidney to Miss Blair Montgomery. The surgery was a complete success."

Tristan couldn't hide his joy. This man, usually so composed, actually ran down the hallway toward Blair’s private room.

The loan shark watched him leave, cast a contemptuous glance at my ward, and spoke to his thug.

"Mr. Vance really loves Miss Montgomery. Normally, if she just gets a scratch, he loses his mind. A major surgery like a kidney transplant must have worried him sick. But his little hostess girlfriend is miserable. She gave up a kidney for absolutely nothing."

"Exactly, Leo. The girl is pregnant. But Mr. Vance was so cold. He ordered us to make sure she didn't die before the surgery, but that was it. No mercy at all."

"For a rich heir like Mr. Vance, women are disposable. Why would he care about a club hostess?"

Their words pierced through the thin wall, entering my ears with brutal clarity. I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms. I forced myself to stay conscious through the searing pain.

Once the hallway went quiet, I dragged my weak, aching body toward the room Tristan had run into.

A small, pathetic part of me was still hoping. Hoping that what I just heard was a nightmare.

I peered through the small window of the private suite. The reality slapped me in the face.

We had the surgery on the same day. Blair was in a luxurious, private suite. I was in a crowded, noisy six-person ward. It was painfully clear who mattered to him.

Inside, Tristan was holding Blair, who was whimpering about the pain. He gently wiped the sweat from her forehead, his eyes filled with pure heartache.

"What are those doctors doing? I told them to use the best painkillers. Useless bastards. Don't worry, Blair. I know how much you care about your looks. I won't let this surgery leave a scar. Come on, let's eat something first, okay?"

I subconsciously touched my own face. All I felt were thick, rough bandages covering my wounds. Since childhood, everyone had praised my beauty. When Tristan first met me, he said I was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

Did he still remember that? Did he remember that I also cared about my looks?

Tristan gently blew on a spoonful of warm oatmeal, coaxing the picky Blair to eat, carefully wiping her lips.

I suddenly remembered a time when I had a high fever. I hadn't had a drop of water all day. When I called Tristan, he simply said he was working late and ordered me takeout. Back then, I felt so bad for making him worry during his busy work hours. I was so happy just to get that cheap takeout.

It turned out he knew how to take care of someone. He just didn't want to waste it on me.

Their intimacy burned my eyes. As I turned to leave, the door suddenly swung open.