Chapter 3Caught Husband Getting Cozy with Secretary: When I Asked for Divorce, He Forced Me to Drink Hard Liquor

Lucas was the poor student I sponsored in high school.

He had excellent grades, standing tall among a bunch of misfits like a young white poplar.

I liked him, but he was so poor he couldn't even afford a meal.

Because of a love letter someone gave him, he was bullied by the school thugs. In the bathroom, a group of people deliberately peed on his shoes, soaking them through.

That day, the usually well-behaved Lucas got into a fight. When he came back to class with a bruised face, he was barefoot.

In the sub-zero weather, his feet were red and swollen from the cold.

My heart ached for him, and I immediately called my driver to bring a pair of socks and shoes.

That was the first time I spoke to him. My throat tightened as I handed him the shoes: "Lucas, these are for you."

He looked up, his eyes red.

I was still in a daze when I was woken up by the ringtone. Getting something and then having to give it up is really painful.

The call was from Lucas's assistant.

I didn't want to answer at first, but he kept calling, over and over.

I tiredly sat up, took some painkillers, and just as I answered, his anxious voice came through: "The boss has been stabbed, come quickly!"

My mind went blank, and I felt the world spinning. Was Lucas going to die?

Without thinking further, I quickly threw on some clothes and rushed to the Carter family's private hospital.

Lucas was standing at the door of the operating room, his whole body tense. There was red blood on the cuff of his suit, but his eyes were fixed straight ahead.

He was very nervous and worried.

I remembered the year I had appendicitis surgery, he was so worried he almost cried. He was afraid I would be in pain, afraid I would be uncomfortable. He didn't sleep all night and even slapped himself twice, blaming himself for letting me eat such a messy diet.

My feet slowly came to a stop. Lucas turned his head, saw me, and walked over with big steps. His hand raised high but then fell back down with restraint. His eyes were all red as he shouted at me: "Aria, why did you do this?!"

"You hired those people, didn't you!"

I stared at him blankly. His eyes were filled with hatred, not a trace of tenderness.

My heart felt so tight I could barely breathe.

I lowered my head to hide my pain, trying hard not to cry: "I don't know what you're talking about... it wasn't me."

"Stop pretending!" Lucas looked at me, grinding his teeth, his chest heaving violently, his fists clenched.

"They all pointed you out."

It felt like a piece of my heart was being violently torn out. I had taken painkillers before coming, so why did it still hurt so much?

His voice was hoarse: "Since you hired people to do this, there's not enough blood in the blood bank. You and Claire have the same RH negative blood type, go donate blood for her!"

I looked at him, hardly believing my ears.

The Lucas from before would gently cover my eyes even when I went for a routine blood test.

Perhaps my gaze was too obvious, Lucas couldn't look at me. He just turned to the doctor and said: "Take her to donate blood!"

It turns out you can still laugh when your heart is shattered to the extreme.

I curled my lips: "Sign the divorce papers, and I'll go."

"Stop messing around, Aria." He looked at me tiredly: "Malicious injury can land you in jail, you know."

"Will you sign or not?" I said coldly.

Lucas's face turned white, then he compromised as if he had lost a negotiation: "How much money do you want this time?"

My heart hurt so much I could barely breathe. I laughed coldly: "One million dollars."

Enough for me to die properly.

"Your blood sure is precious," Lucas said sarcastically.

How could the blood not be precious when the liver that produces it is full of tumors?