My son and I had been nothing more than pawns in her petty war with Laurence.

In this cruel game where I had traded heart for heart, it turned out that only my son and I had lost everything.

If that was the case, then we no longer needed her.

I wiped away the tears clinging to my lashes and pushed open the hospital room door.

The moment my son saw the chicken sandwiches I had brought, his face lit up with a bright smile.

But that joy lasted only seconds; just two bites in, his expression twisted in pain and he suddenly began to retch.

At first, I thought he had burned his mouth, but he weakly waved his tiny hand.

“Dad, I think I’m still sick. I feel nauseous and my stomach hurts.”

I quickly tucked the blanket tighter around him and turned to get the doctor.

But as I stepped into the pediatric wing, what I saw froze me in place.

Amara and Laurence were rushing in, faces pale with panic.

And trailing behind them was her father, supposedly long dead.

The three of them looked visibly shaken. Amara’s voice trembled as she clutched the doctor’s arm.

“Doctor, please, you have to save my son! He’s only five! How could he have such a disease?!”

I stood frozen as she brushed past me without a glance like I was nothing more than thin air.

The three of them stormed into a luxury VIP ward, dragging doctors along in a flurry of panic and urgency.

I returned to my son’s room in a daze. He gave me a fragile smile, trying to soothe my aching heart.

“Don’t worry, Dad. I’ll be better tomorrow!”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and gently touched his forehead; thankfully, the fever had faded.

“Okay. Then close your eyes now. Daddy’s staying right here with you.”

But barely moments after he drifted off to sleep, the door burst open with a loud bang.

“Our President Lancaster is offering a high reward to anyone at the hospital willing to take a bone marrow match test! Anyone who participates will be generously compensated!”

Worried the noise would wake my son, I shot the man a glare and pushed him out into the hallway.

There stood a man in a crisp suit; he had the polished air of Amara’s assistant.

He spoke in a hurry, voice breathless with urgency.

Amara and Laurence’s son had suddenly been diagnosed with acute leukemia.

They were pouring in money and calling in favors, desperately urging everyone in the hospital to join the bone marrow testing, hoping to find a match before time ran out.

The entire hospital was buzzing with activity and patients and families were all stirred up.

Word spread quickly that simply taking the test would earn fifty thousand dollars and everyone jumped at the chance to volunteer.

Amara even dangled a sky-high offer: five million for a matching donor.

For everyone else, it was a golden opportunity: save a life and get rich.

But I simply shook my head.

“My son’s health has always been fragile. He won’t be participating.”

Besides, I had no obligation to help her child, her son, with Laurence.

She could go to such lengths for theirs, yet she couldn’t even spare a thought for the child lying sick in a hospital bed, my son.

The thought of how we had scraped by, living humbly with barely enough to get by, made my chest ache.

Amara, perhaps this was heaven’s way of punishing you for your lies and cruelty.

The assistant’s face darkened, clearly not expecting my refusal. His eyes shifted, growing cold and threatening.

“Don’t refuse a toast only to drink a forfeit. You’re just a pathetic delivery guy. Offend President Lancaster and we’ll make sure you can’t survive in this city.”

With that, he gave a signal to the two bodyguards behind him.

They grabbed me and forced me toward the examination room.

Even my unconscious son was carried out against his will.

My eyes burned with rage as I struggled to save him, but pain suddenly exploded in the back of my leg.

The assistant had kicked the hollow of my knee and I collapsed to the floor.

He yanked my hair and sneered coldly.

“You and your bastard son, how could your lives ever compare to President Lancaster’s beloved husband and child?”

“I advise you not to make a scene, or you’ll alert them. After that, things won’t be so simple!”

I couldn’t help but let out a cold laugh. “What do their lives have to do with me? If they die, even better...”

Before I could finish, a searing pain exploded in my mouth; he had lit a lighter and shoved it straight in.

I tried to dodge, my body wracked with agony, but the two burly men behind me held me down so tightly that I couldn’t move.

The taste of burnt blood filled my mouth and the pain was so intense I nearly lost consciousness.

“That’s what you get for talking shit!”

“Daddy! Don’t hit my daddy...”

Just as I felt myself slipping into darkness, my son’s cries yanked me back to reality.

I struggled to get up and protect him, but dizziness slammed into me like a hammer.

The assistant raised his metal hip flask, bringing it down hard on my skull. A stream of warm blood poured down my face.

At that moment, his phone rang. As he answered, I heard Amara’s voice crackle through.

“Julian, how’s it going?”

Enduring the burning pain in my mouth, I gritted my teeth and roared her name.

“Amara—”

I barely managed to let out a syllable before a savage kick landed squarely on my mouth, sending me crashing to the floor, unable to say another word.

The assistant quickly reported to Amara, “Rest assured, Miss Lancaster. Everyone in the hospital is already lining up for testing. I believe the young master is blessed and will find a match very soon!”

The call ended, leaving only despair in my eyes.

Without a word, he coldly ordered the two bodyguards to drag me away.

Meanwhile, my son was hauled into the testing room.

The results came back fast; my son’s bone marrow was a match for Harrison’s and qualified for donation.

Seeing how thrilled they were to take him away, I struggled with every ounce of my strength to stop them.

“Even if it’s a match, you can’t just go straight into donation like this. You’re putting him in danger…”

Before I could finish, the assistant kicked me to the ground and the two guards began to beat me mercilessly with fists and feet.

I hadn’t eaten in two days; my body was weak and unable to resist.

My son cried helplessly as they wheeled him into the operating room. In a rush, Amara and Laurence arrived, not even asking who the donor was, only ordering the doctors to push Harrison into the room.

A doctor spoke hesitantly, “Miss Lancaster, the donor’s condition isn’t stable. Should we wait a bit…?”

Laurence interrupted sharply, “Wait? If anything happens to my son while you’re waiting, will you take responsibility for your life?”

My father-in-law added, “It’s just a bone marrow donation, not like he’s dying. Give him a bit more compensation afterward and it’s settled!”

“But we haven’t fully assessed the donor’s condition yet. I’m afraid…”

“You already did the blood test, didn’t you? That means it’s fine! Hurry up and do the surgery; my son can’t stand the pain. The sooner he recovers, the better!” Laurence’s voice cracked with emotion.

Amara wrapped her arms around him, her face a mask of pain and instructed the doctors to proceed immediately.

Under their relentless pressure and bribes, the doctor sighed deeply and entered the operating room.

Less than half an hour later, the light outside the OR flickered off.

Amara anxiously grabbed Laurence and her father’s hands, her body trembling with fear. A nurse burst through the door, panic etched across her face.

“Is there any Maximilian Prescott family member here? He passed out during the bone marrow extraction and urgently needs resuscitation!”

At the sound of the name, Amara’s face twisted in shock.

She seized the nurse by the shoulders, her grip tight and hissed, “Who did you just say?”

Following the nurse’s terrified gaze, she finally saw me, bloodied and pinned to the floor by the bodyguards.

“Miss Lancaster, it’s his son. He refused to cooperate, but in the heat of the moment, we had no choice but to use force!”