Chapter 1A Lifetime Debt

To pay off my brother’s gambling debts, I sold myself to Damian Wren.

For three years, I was at his beck and call, utterly without dignity.

He hated nothing more than my “cheap bone” — my willingness to endure anything for money.

On the third day of my kidnapping, the abductors discovered I was Damian Wren’s secret wife.

When they called him, he was lavishly spending on his childhood sweetheart.

The abductor spoke teasingly, “Mr. Wren, your wife is in my hands. No need for a hundred million, just ten dollars for shipping, and I’ll let her go. What do you say?”

The entire room fell silent, broken only by Damian’s nonchalant chuckle.

“Ten dollars? She’s not even worth that.”

“Go ahead and kill her. It’ll save me the trouble of a divorce.”

The call ended. The abductor looked at me with pity.

I wiped the blood from my eyes, a serene smile on my face.

“Boss, I have ten dollars. Can I have a knife? I’ll do it myself. Consider it the debt I owe Damian.”

* * *

The abductor froze, probably never having encountered a hostage requesting to end their own life. The rusty spring knife in his hand glinted coldly in the dim light.

“Look, kid, don’t do anything crazy. That guy’s a jerk, sure, but your life is your own.” The abductor even began to plead with me.

I stared at the knife, my gaze colder than its blade. “Give it to me.” I extended my hand, palm covered in dried blood and dust. The abductor hesitated for a moment, perhaps unnerved by the deadness in my eyes, and instinctively handed over the knife.

The hilt was icy cold. The moment I grasped it, the thought that flashed through my mind wasn’t fear of death. It was Damian’s nonchalant comment: “She’s not even worth that.”

Three years. For three years, I had wagged my tail like a dog beside him, swallowing every humiliation and grievance. Even when stomach pain left me drenched in cold sweat, a single call from him meant I had to crawl out of bed to make him hangover soup. Even when he equated me with the club dancers, I could only smile and nod. Because I needed the money. I had to save my gambling-addict brother, I had to keep this crumbling family from falling apart.

But now, I didn't want to endure it anymore. Ten dollars. So, I, Eliza Blackwell, was worth less than ten dollars in Damian Wren’s eyes.

“Damian, the debt is paid.” I whispered, my wrist twisting with sudden force.

Thud.

The sound of the blade piercing my abdomen was surprisingly dull. Excruciating pain exploded instantly, and warm liquid gushed out, staining my clothes. The abductor screamed, horrified, “Holy hell, you actually stabbed yourself! Call an ambulance! Don’t die here!”

Before my consciousness faded, I heard police sirens.

I awoke again to the sterile smell of disinfectant in a hospital room. The wound in my abdomen burned fiercely, a cruel reminder that I hadn’t died.

The door to my room burst open. Damian Wren, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, his face grim, was flanked by several bodyguards. He strode to my bedside, looking down at me. There wasn't a trace of pity in his eyes, only profound disgust.

“Eliza Blackwell, you’ve grown bold, haven’t you?” He reached out and gripped my chin, his fingers clenching with enough force to shatter bone. “Playing at suicide? A pity ploy? You really went for it to force my hand.”

I was forced to tilt my head back, gazing at the man I had loved for seven long years. At this moment, my heart was eerily still, like a stagnant pool.

“You misunderstand, Mr. Wren.” I managed a strained smile, my voice hoarse and broken. “I just wanted to save that ten-dollar shipping fee. Didn’t want to bother you.”

Damian’s pupils constricted. Then, as if he’d heard a hilarious joke, he let out a cold laugh. “Save money? A woman like you, who’d sell her dignity for cash, would actually be willing to die?” He flung my face away, wiping his fingers with a handkerchief in disgust. “Since you didn’t die, stop lying around in the hospital playing dead. Julian was startled by the kidnapping news; her heart isn’t feeling well. Go donate 400cc of blood to her, to help calm her nerves.”

I stared at him in disbelief. My abdomen was still heavily bandaged; I had just come out of surgery. And he wanted to draw my blood to appease his darling?

“Damian, I just had surgery.”

“So what?” Damian cut me off, his gaze icy and piercing. “Your life is mine; I bought it. As long as you’re not dead, you obey me.” He turned to leave, his command utterly devoid of warmth. “In ten minutes, I expect to see you in the blood donation room. Otherwise, your gambling addict brother’s hand, you can forget about it.”