After I refused to donate my uterus to my older sister, Madeline Holloway, my childhood sweetheart grew to hate me. He plotted to send me into the bed of the top heir of Highcrest's elite circle.

The heir's desires were intense, but he despised women who threw themselves at him.

Everyone waited to see my downfall. Instead, he spoiled me beyond measure.

Three years into our marriage, he loved getting his hands on me whenever he could—the balcony, the kitchen, the car, even at glamorous banquets.

I could barely step into the restroom before he'd follow, pinning me against the sink.

We never used contraception. Alas, I never got pregnant.

It wasn't until the day I went to the hospital, thinking I might be expecting, that I overheard his conversation with the doctor.

"Winston, you had me secretly transplant Madison's uterus into her sister three years ago. Now you want me to lie and tell her she's infertile? How can you be so cruel to a woman who loves you?"

"I had no choice. Madeline's marriage will be on the rocks if she can't bear children. Madison's uterus was the only match."

The familiar male voice sounded so icy and unrecognizable just then. That was when I realized the love and salvation I trusted without question were nothing but another lie.

If that was the case… it was time for me to make my exit.

A Marriage Built on a Lie

At the far end of the hospital corridor, the doctor who had just coldly pronounced my infertility continued, his expression conflicted, "Madison still thinks she's pregnant. In truth, it's just an adverse reaction to the hormone-regulating medication I prescribed.

"That's what's causing her constant vomiting."

Winston Holt frowned slightly. "In that case, switch her to something with the mildest side effects. I don't want anything to happen to her health. Madeline may still need her in the future."

"Aren't you afraid she'll hate you if she learns the truth?" the doctor asked, his voice tinged with pity. "She's always wanted to give you a child. She has no idea she'll never be a mother in this lifetime."

"Madison can hate me if she wants. I can't stand watching Madeline suffer," Winston said impatiently. "As for what she thinks? She’s already Mrs. Holt. Isn't that enough?"

…

I stood frozen at the corner, my body trembling uncontrollably.

So… that was how he saw it. My status as Mrs. Holt was enough of a compensation.

Everything I had now was never given out of love. It was bought with my womb.

My strength drained away in an instant, and I collapsed heavily to the floor.

I hit the ground in utter disgrace, pain ripping through my body as if my organs had shifted. I couldn't even summon the strength to stand.

Winston caught sight of me and strode over, pulling me up. His deep, dark eyes fell on my face. "Why are you on the ground? When did you get here?"

I hid my fingers under my sleeves, clenching them until they ached. I knew exposing the truth now would do me no good. So, I forced myself to be obedient and buried myself in his arms. "I just got here. The heels were too high. I twisted my ankle."

The tension in his face finally eased. He lifted me in his arms and carried me outside.

"Don't ever wear heels this high again," he murmured lowly.

I stared at the face I had once loved so deeply, and a bone-chilling cold spread through my heart.

When had he ordered the doctor to remove my uterus?

Was it two years ago? Did he do it during my appendectomy?

Back then, I had only felt a slight discomfort. Yet, the doctor insisted it was acute appendicitis and said that I needed the surgery.

Winston had panicked, renting out an entire hospital floor and assembling a top-tier medical team to operate on me.

At the time, I believed he loved me beyond measure—so much that he couldn't bear for me to suffer even the smallest harm.

Now, I finally understood.

I was nothing more than a lamb he kept in captivity. He cared for me so meticulously only so that he could one day carve out my flesh and offer it to my sister like some twisted sacrificial offering.

The Pregnancy That Was Never Mine

Winston insisted on making me eat a full meal for dinner that night.

He looked at me so lovingly as he held up a fork and tried to feed me himself. "How will your body ever recover if you don't eat well?"

I knew what he really meant.

I wouldn't be able to provide healthy organs for his darling Madeline if my health failed.

I couldn't help but stare at the handsome face before me. I scrutinized the mild look on his face and soon felt a wave of nausea surge up once more.

I rushed into the bathroom, locked the door, and ignored his worried questions as I threw up everything I had just eaten.

The phone in my pocket vibrated.

'Have you really made up your mind to leave this place?'

I gripped the phone. Winston's cold, heartless words from earlier echoed in my mind.

'Yes. The sooner, the better.'

…

Not long after, Winston had the maid unlock the door. He frowned at me. "Did you throw up again? Stop taking the tonic the doctor prescribed. Switch to the new one."

He had been lying to me since day one. What he gave me were hormone drugs. Yet, he told me they were supplements.

There was a time when I desperately wanted to bear him a child. At the time, I didn't care how bitter the medicine was. I endured it all, swallowing it with a hopeful smile on my face.

Now that I thought about it, I had been unbelievably foolish.

I raised my head to look at him dully. "Am I dying? Tell me the truth. How much longer do I have?"

A flicker of panic crossed his usually steady face. He suddenly pulled me into his arms and spoke in a tense voice. "Don't say that. You still have a long, long life ahead of you—with me."

His sweet words had always been so convincing.

After all, he would tell me over and over that he couldn't bear to see me suffer whenever I brought up having kids with him over the past two years.

In truth, he had long known that I was barren. Yet, he still watched me endure endless IVF treatments without making a peep.

He kept watching me like I was some court jester as I swallowed all kinds of bitter, foul-tasting pills. He did all that fully aware that I was dreaming of a happy future where we had a baby of our own.

Then again, I suppose it was for the best.

Since we didn't have a child, there was nothing left between us. I could leave him without hesitation.

…

That night, Winston's embrace felt desperate somehow. It was as if he were afraid to let go. He even warned me to never speak of death again.

I endured it numbly, waiting for it to be over. Once he'd fallen asleep, I picked up the phone he had left on the nightstand and went into the bathroom.

His lock-screen password was my birthday. Because of that, I had never once checked his phone. Only now did I realize he had taken full advantage of that trust.

When I opened WhatsApp, I discovered his nickname for my sister was "Maddie."

Maddie—the very name he whispered in moments of passion, his breath warm against my ear in bed.

I finally understood that he had never been calling my name at all. I was only a stand-in for Madeline, a way for him to ease his own guilt.

How ridiculous.

I opened their chat history with shaky hands.

Only then did I discover that while I was suffering daily nausea from the side effects of hormone drugs, he had established the Maddie Charity Foundation for Madeline, hoping that good deeds would earn her lifelong health.

He was doing all this to secure her future, but what about the wrongs they'd done to me?

Tears rolled down my cheeks. I bit down hard on my lip and screenshot their conversations one by one. My heart felt numb from the pain with each snap.

I immediately went to a hospital for a full medical examination.

The doctor stared at my report, his brows knitted tightly. "How many surgeries have you had? You're missing a kidney and a uterus. There's also damage to your liver."

I gave a bitter smile. "Too many. I can't even remember. How long do I have left?"

The doctor refused to give a definite answer. He sighed and advised me to stay calm and not dwell on it too much.

I went straight to Winston's company after my appointment at the hospital. I wanted to ask him for a divorce.

The receptionist stopped me. I said I was Winston's wife.

She looked at me with open disdain. "There are plenty of women who want to be Mrs. Holt. Why don't you look in a mirror? How dare you impersonate her? The real Mrs. Holt is upstairs right now."

My chest tightened. I could only call Winston on the spot, but no one answered.

The mockery on the receptionist's face deepened.

I stayed quietly downstairs, waiting long into the evening. Eventually, I saw Winston step out of the elevator with Madeline cradled in his arms.

His face stiffened the moment our eyes met. "Why are you here? Um, Madeline twisted her ankle. She's pregnant, so it's hard for her to move around. I was just helping her."

Madeline leaned against him, a gentle smile on her face. "Madison, Sebastian's out of town on a business trip. I'm borrowing your husband to take care of me for a while, alright?"

All I could hear was one word.

Pregnant.

Madeline was pregnant with my uterus.

It felt as if something sharp rolled violently through my chest, leaving me unable to breathe. "Winston, I need to talk to you."

"Whatever it is, we'll talk later," Winston replied impatiently. "Madeline's hungry. We're going back to your mother's place for dinner."

The Price of Blood

My mother had prepared a full table of Madeline's favorite dishes to celebrate her pregnancy.

Madeline covered her nose and complained that she had no appetite. Winston immediately suggested sending the caregiver who looked after me to cook for her instead.

The corner of Madeline's lips curved upward as she pointed at me. "Don't bother. Madison doesn't look very happy. I wouldn't want you two arguing because of me."

My mother shot me a sharp glare and snapped, "You're not pregnant, and you can handle yourself just fine. So, why can't you take care of yourself? You've always been a selfish brat, always complaining when I ask you to do anything."

She had given birth to me only to use my umbilical cord blood to treat my sister. In her eyes, I was nothing more than a medical resource for Madeline. Therefore, what right did I have to defy her? None.

I didn't want to argue. So, I set down my cutlery and went to the bedroom I used to have, hoping to calm down. Instead, I found it had been turned into a storage room.

My tears suddenly spilled over. I wiped them away clumsily.

"Are you upset with Winston?" Madeline followed me, sounding insufferably smug. In fact, she sounded like a matriarch lecturing her husband's mistress. "It looks like you still don't know your place. Winston and I have shared years of history. That's not something you can intrude on."

I sneered. "Then, why didn't you marry him?"

Her smile deepened, dark and satisfied. "What you can't have is always the most precious. I want him to keep thinking of me, to be my lifelong support."

I fell silent, my gaze drifting to her belly. My hand unconsciously reached out to touch it.

Madeline's smile deepened. She leaned close and whispered into my ear, "Jealous? It's too bad you'll never have children again. Your uterus is mine now.

"I heard not having a uterus is a miserable life to have. You'll be on hormone pills with awful side effects for the rest of your life. When I told Winston that, he was terrified I'd suffer. He immediately offered to rectify the situation.

"That's why he married you. It was to placate you. Oh, and he said my health has always been fragile. You had to be kept in good condition, just in case. You should be thanking me. Your only value is being my medical resource. No one in this world has ever loved you."

My fingers dug into my flesh as I raised my hand to slap her. Just then, the door was shoved open.

Winston stood there, fury written all over his face. He rushed forward and grabbed my wrist hard. "What are you doing? How could you hit your sister?"

I sneered. "What's this? Are you feeling sorry for her? If you care so much, why don't you marry her and put her on a pedestal instead?"

I had never spoken to him so sharply. He froze before parting his lips to respond.

Suddenly, Madeline clutched her stomach and cried out in pain, "Please don't fight because of me. This is all my fault. I made Madison unhappy. I deserve her anger. I don't want a caregiver anymore. Madison, please don't hit me again."

Winston's expression darkened instantly. He turned to me and said coldly, "Madison, apologize."

I clenched my fists so tightly my nails nearly broke my skin. I fought the tremor running through my body.

"You want me to apologize? Winston, do you even know what just happened?"

"That's enough!" He cut me off. "Madison, you've really disappointed me. When did you become like this? Madeline is your sister. You have no right to lay a hand on her, even if you're jealous."

He didn't spare me another glance. He bent down, scooped Madeline into his arms, and sauntered away.

I saw Madeline bury her face in his shoulder, wearing the triumphant smile of a victor as she shot me a smug look.

Sadly for her, she could no longer hurt me.

I would never care about this man again.

…

I took a cab home to pack my things, only to receive a sudden WhatsApp message from Winston.

'Madeline is very upset. I'll give you one more chance. Apologize to her by tonight. Don't make me send someone to get you.'

His tone was absolute. To him, it was clear that there was no doubt that I was guilty.

He even reminded me to buy a gift for Madeline as an apology.

What he didn't know was that I had already packed my things.

I took a cab straight to the airport.

On the way, I sent him one last WhatsApp message. 'Fine. I'll send a big gift.'

After that, I pulled out my SIM card, snapped it in half, rolled down the window, and tossed it out. I watched as everything scattered into the wind.

Early the next morning, an express package was delivered to the CEO's office at Holt Group.

Winston opened it. A single, flimsy sheet of paper slipped out.

He glanced at it once, and his face was instantly drained of color. His hands shook as he blindly reached for his phone and dialed a number.

Alas, no one picked up the phone.