Chapter 2The Book of Life and Death

My marriage to Adrian Lowe was born from a debt.

My family, the Greys, had saved the Lowes from ruin during their darkest hour. To seal the bond between our families, we were betrothed as children.

I was naive enough to believe that a childhood friendship could, with time, blossom into love.

I was wrong.

On our wedding night, there was no celebration, no tender words. Adrian took me to the cold, sterile blood-drawing room of his private hospital.

I remember the way he gripped my chin, his eyes colder than a scalpel. “Nora Grey, since you schemed your way into this marriage, you will fulfill your duties as Mrs. Lowe.”

“Your duty,” he continued, his voice a blade of ice, “is to use your blood to keep Sierra alive.”

That night, I learned the truth. Sierra Xia, the woman he adored, suffered from a severe blood disorder. She needed regular transfusions to survive.

And I, I possessed the extremely rare P-type blood that was a perfect match for hers.

From that day forward, I was no longer Nora Grey. I was no longer Mrs. Lowe.

I was a walking, breathing, warm-blooded IV bag.

The weekly forced blood draws became my living nightmare. My body grew weaker, my face paler with each passing day. I watched, week after week, as my blood was siphoned from my body, bag by precious bag, and slowly dripped into Sierra Xia’s veins.

She would hold my hand, her face a mask of innocent sweetness, and say, “Oh, Nora, your blood is just wonderful. Look, my cheeks are all rosy now. Adrian says you’re my lifesaver.”

And Adrian would stand by, watching her with eyes full of adoration, as if gazing upon a masterpiece. In his masterpiece, she was the beloved subject. And I? I was merely the paint.

One day, after a transfusion, Sierra, resting in her hospital bed, began to cough violently, her face turning deathly pale. She clutched at Adrian’s sleeve as he rushed to her side, her voice as fragile as spun glass. “Adrian… I… I don’t know what’s wrong. After the transfusion today, my chest feels so tight, I can’t seem to catch my breath.”

The doctors examined her immediately, but all the tests came back normal.

She looked at me, her eyes filled with a kind of wounded accusation, before shaking her head at Adrian. “It’s nothing, really. It’s probably just me.”

Her performance only made Adrian’s heart ache for her more.

“Adrian,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, “do you think… maybe… could it be that Nora has been in a bad mood lately? And so her blood… isn’t as clean?”

Adrian’s head snapped towards me, his eyes filled with a chilling disgust. He ripped the needle from my arm, heedless of the blood that welled up, and ordered his men to hold me down on the bed.

“Take another two hundred ccs!” he barked at the nurse.

Then he leaned over me, his face close to my pale, weakened one, and spat out each word with venom. “Nora Grey, I don’t care what you’re thinking. You will get rid of that disgusting resentment and jealousy.”

“Your life is worthless, but your blood must be pure. Sierra’s health is a million times more important than your life.”

“If Sierra feels the slightest bit unwell again, I will have the doctors double the amount. We will drain every last drop of your filthy emotions from your body!”

I went into shock from blood loss that day.

When I woke up, the first thing I saw was the two of them on the sofa in my hospital room, wrapped in a passionate embrace, oblivious to the world.

In Adrian’s hand was a jade bracelet I knew all too well. It was the only thing my mother had left me, a family heirloom passed down from mother to daughter. Adrian had often mocked it, calling it old-fashioned and unworthy of the mistress of the Lowe family, telling me to hide it away so it wouldn’t embarrass him.

Now, he completely ignored my frail form on the bed. He took Sierra’s hand and gently slipped the bracelet onto her wrist. Her wrist was slender and pale, and the jade did indeed look radiant against her skin.

She feigned reluctance, but her eyes, sharp and venomous, darted towards me in triumph. “Adrian, I don’t know… this is Nora’s mother’s, after all…”

“Silly girl,” Adrian interrupted, his voice dripping with affection. “What’s hers? What’s mine is yours. Besides…”

He finally turned to look at me, his gaze imperious, as if savoring the look of numb despair on my face. He held up Sierra’s wrist, adorned with my mother’s bracelet.

“Nora, open your eyes and look. This bracelet… it truly shines on the wrist of someone as pure and graceful as Sierra.”

“On you, it just looked gaudy. It was an insult to the jade. Don’t you agree?”

I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood, refusing to make a sound.

In that moment, I finally understood.

I wasn’t just her blood bag.

I didn’t even have the right to own my mother’s legacy.

They laughed, admiring the bracelet on her wrist, and left the room.

And I lay on the bed, my eyes closed, my body cold as ice, a corpse without a soul.

My soul was shackled to this house of horrors, forced to relive the agony of my stolen life. Was this my eternal damnation? Or was the arrival of this mysterious Julian Shen a sign? A chance, not just for resurrection, but for retribution?