Chance suddenly ran over to grab my wrist and twisted it hard.

The edge of my ring dug into my flesh, but I kept my hand clenched, refusing to let go.

"Nora, are you done making a scene?" he scolded.

The veins of his temple bulged as he shoved my head down toward the floor.

"If my family hadn't paid for your mother's debts, you wouldn't even be qualified to work as a servant here!" he yelled.

His words cut through me. It reopened an old wound I had buried for eight years.

I pushed him away and laughed abruptly.

He froze; he did not expect me to fight back.

I threw the ring into the pile of broken porcelain by the time he let go.

The shards cut the band. The diamonds were streaked with blood as they rolled to Jenny.

She screamed and stumbled back, and it revealed a ruby anklet.

Last year on my birthday, Chance claimed that he was too busy to get me a birthday gift, but he had arranged for someone to bid for that precious anklet.

They had been in contact even then.

I had been a fool waiting for a gift that was never mine.

…

Three days later, I got a call from the hospital while I was cleaning the kitchen.

"Ms. Nora Song, you have an urgent medical report to collect in person."

I was puzzled. Last week, Jenny told me it was time for a 'servant check-up' and had the household doctor draw my blood.

I thought it was a routine check-up. I never imagined it would end up in a major hospital.

I wanted to ask questions, but I heard a loud crash.

Jenny had collapsed at my feet.

"Jenny!" yelled Chance.

He came running and glared at me.

"Nora! I told you I'd remarry you after fulfilling Jenny's wishes. Are you that eager to see her dead? I can't believe you're so vicious!" he yelled.

He carried Jenny away without letting me explain.

I felt drained.

I had promised Mr. Hart that I would take care of Chance forever.

We had been in love once, but I still lost to his so-called first love.

I felt hopeless, and the debt I owed Mr. Hart was crushing me.

He did not give me the chance to explain, dead certain that I pushed Jenny.

The soup I had made for her was still simmering on the stove.

I opened the hospital app almost without thinking.

The spoon slipped from my hand and landed on my foot when I saw the words 'Human Leukocyte Antigen Typing Report'.

Type B blood. HLA-DRB1*1501… A perfect match.

Jenny had secretly sent my blood for a compatibility test after the household doctor drew my blood.

The so-called 'servant check-up' was a ruse to get my blood.

All those nights when she had coughed so hard in front of us, she knew she could receive a new heart.

Perhaps I still held a shred of hope for Chance, so I called him.

"Jenny Young doesn't love you at all. She only came back for my heart," I said.

"Enough, Nora! How many times are you going to slander her? I always thought you weren't very smart, but at least you knew your place. Now, I see you're nothing but a malicious and unreasonable woman," he said.

I had to let out a cold laugh when he hung up.

I asked myself–what was I expecting?

I stared at the name 'Chance Hart' on my screen, and my nails dug deep into my palm.

The man who once swore to protect me from all harm would not even spare me five minutes to explain.

I stared at the massive wedding portrait in the living room before taking it down.

It was a portrait of Chance holding me tenderly.

Tears streamed down my face. I could not believe how unworthy all those years of love had been.

I smashed it with a hammer, strike after strike. It tore and vanished slowly like fragments of my memory.

"Nora, you're the one I love most in this world. I'll only ever love you. We'll be together, till death do us part," he had vowed.

What a laughable vow.

What a laughable love.

All of it, nothing but empty words.

Chance looked angry when he came back.

He grabbed my hand without warning and dragged me to the door. He said, "You're coming with me to the hospital."

"For what?" I asked.

I struggled to pull away, but he slammed me against the entryway cabinet.

"Jenny needs surgery. Your heart is a compatible match."

I froze, unable to register the fact that he wanted my heart.

"Are you out of your mind, Chance? I am your wife!"

"Ex-wife."

He pushed me away and took out a document from his suit.

"You'll do the paperwork tomorrow, and sign the organ donation agreement while you're at it," he said.

The words were printed in bold on the cover, 'Voluntary Heart Donation Application.'

The signature space for the first party was filled with Jenny Young's name. The signature space for the second party was left blank, waiting for me to take the bait.

My reflection in the glass showed how pale I was, like I was a corpse.

We had been married for eight years. I had spent the best years of my life in the Hart household to repay what I owed.

The day I carried my suitcase into the villa, I had learned how to take care of him, leaving a night-light on when he came home late from social dinners.

The fingers that had once been able to play world-class music were coated with kitchen grease.

I had done all of that.

It seemed that to Chance, I was not only a toll to repay debts, but also a 'living warehouse' from which organs could be harvested at will.

He knew that Jenny did not come back because she loved him, but he still wanted to give her my heart?

"And if I don't sign?" I asked.

He scoffed and took out his phone to play a video.

I then saw it: my parents pinned to the ground by several men in black. My mother had hair matted with blood, and my father's glasses lay shattered at his feet.

"I can make them stop anytime for the money they owe," he said.

He grabbed my chin and forced me to look at the brutal scenes.

"You don't have a choice, Nora," he said.

My body trembled with rage.

My parents were finally able to live a normal life after so many years, yet they were dragged into this nightmare!

"Chance Hart, you brute! It was your grandfather who saved me back then! How could you do this to them?!" I yelled.

He looked at me coldly, his gaze indifferent.

He knew where my softest weakness lay the whole time.

Mr. Hart had used that debt to bind me to his side back then, and Chance had used my parents' lives to force me to give up my heart.

"Alright," I said with an abrupt laugh, my tears spilling, "I'll sign."

I added, "But I want to see my parents first."

Chance squinted and stepped closer to kiss my forehead.

"That's better. I'll remarry you once Jenny's recovered," he said.

He took out his car keys and said, "Be back in half an hour, and don't try anything."

The rain grew heavier. I sat in the back seat and looked at the side of his face.

The man I had spent my youth loving was as cold as ice at that moment.

The car passed through an intersection. I suddenly lunged forward and grabbed the steering wheel.

"You're so dead!" he yelled.

He slammed on the brakes. The tires skidded across the rain-soaked street before the car slammed into the roadside barrier.

I took the chance to open the door and bolt into the rain. His furious yells echoed behind me.

The rain and my tears blurred my vision as I stumbled through three blocks, until the flashing red-and-blue police lights came into view.

"Officer, I want to make a report…"

Before I could finish, I felt a sharp pain from the back of my neck.

The last thing I saw before I blacked out was Jenny Young standing there, bloodied wrench in hand. She had a cold and sinister smile.

"Sorry, Nora," her voice was sinister, "but your heart is mine."

…

The scent of disinfectant hurt my nostrils.

I found myself lying on an operating table when I opened my eyes. My wrists were strapped with leather restraints.

The overhead light blazed on me.

"Are you awake?"

I heard her voice from behind me. Jenny wore pale blue scrubs, she had a syringe in her hand.

"I was going to wait until you signed before giving you anesthesia, but you just wouldn't behave," she said.

I kept struggling, and my face was pale as panic surged through me.

"Where's Chance? He promised I could see my parents!" I yelled.

"Oh, him?"

Jenny pushed the syringe into the IV line, her smile laced with mockery.

"He's downstairs, saying goodbye to your parents' bodies," she said.

I froze.

"What did you say?" I asked.

The door swung open.

Chance stepped inside, his white shirt was splattered with dark red stains, and his blood-streaked phone clutched in his hand. There was a photo on his phone screen of my parents lying lifelessly in a pool of blood.

"They tried to run. The debt collectors beat them to death," he explained, tone so casual as if he were talking about the weather.

"Don't worry. I'll make sure they have a fine headstone after you donate your heart to Jenny," he said.

The world went black for a moment, and I nearly passed out.

"Let's begin," said Jenny.

She put on surgical gloves, and tapped against the scar beneath my collarbone.

"I heard this scar came from a surgery to save Chance. How touching, but this heart will belong to me now," she said.

Pain ripped through my chest when I woke up again.

"Nora?"

I could hear his voice from my bedside, softer than I had heard in years.

"The doctor says a mechanical heart takes time to adjust to, that's why it hurts. Your life is not in any danger, so don't worry," he said.

I turned my head to see him in an immaculate suit. His tie had swapped for the navy blue one I had given him.

His fingers brushed the back of my hand as if we were still the loving couple from eight years ago.

"Where are my parents?" I asked.

Whatever patience and tenderness I had been clinging to were gone the moment I heard my parents were dead.

He hesitated.

"The funeral is over. I bought the highest-grade grave plot for them…" he said.

"So they are dead?" I asked.

I sat up quickly, the searing pain from the mechanical heart shot from my chest to my limbs.

A flicker of panic crossed his eyes.

"I didn't mean for it to happen. I didn't think they would try to run after hearing about your transplant," he replied.

Perhaps he did not intend to kill them, but they were dead all the same.

"Don't get worked up. Your heart…" he said.

He tried to press me back down, but I shoved him off.

The red glow from the monitor reflected on his face, and I suddenly laughed.

"Chance Hart, do you think you can erase everything you've done by giving me a new heart?" I sneered.

His lips pressed tightly as he reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a check.

"Jenny's doing much better now," he said.