AFTER DIVORCE, I BECAME A POWERFUL HEIRESS AND HIS OBSESSION

"You are a match for Gabriella." Raphael uttered the words while looking dead into my eyes.

"What?" I stuttered.

"The kidney," he said. "You are a match for her. She needs it urgently. I hope you will cooperate and not overreact."

I sat on the edge of the leather sofa in his study and stared at him. This was the man I had loved for five years. This was the man I devoted my life to. He saved me from a car crash when I was eighteen, and I hoped every day that he would look at me with affection.

Hearing these words from him made my chest ache. He stood across the room with his hands in his pockets. He wore a tailored black suit. His posture was rigid, and his expression showed no sympathy.

"You want me to give her my kidney?" I asked. I needed to hear him say it again because my brain refused to process the request. I needed to know if I was misunderstanding him.

"The doctors ran the tests last week during your physical," Raphael explained. He did not blink. "Gabriella is out of time. Her condition worsened this morning, and the transplant list is too long. We do not have months to wait."

I looked down at my hands as my fingers trembled. Gabriella was his stepsister.

She moved into the estate three years ago, and she made it her mission to remind me of my place. She paraded around the house demanding Raphael's attention, and he always gave it to her.

He bought her designer clothes, funded her lavish parties, and sat by her side whenever she claimed she felt ill.

Meanwhile, I ate dinner alone. I slept in a separate bedroom down the hall. I spent my days waiting for a husband who only spoke to me when he required something.

"Raphael," I started, trying to keep my voice steady. "Surgery is dangerous. You are asking me to give up a part of my body for a woman who despises me."

"She does not despise you, Arabella," he replied. His voice was flat. "She is sick. I am asking you to do this because you are family. You live under my roof. I provide for you. I saved your life, and now I am asking you to save hers."

He brought up the debt. He always brought up the debt without saying the words. I owed him my life, and he wanted his payment.

"If I do this," I said, looking back up at him. "If I give her my kidney, what happens after?"

"I mean us," I said. I stood up from the sofa and took a step toward him. "Will you stay home? Will we eat dinner together? Will you look at me the way a husband should look at his wife?"

He looked away from me and stared out the large window. The city lights reflected in the glass. "I will make sure you are taken care of during your recovery. You will have the best doctors."

"That is not what I asked," I pressed. I stepped closer. "Raphael, look at me."

He turned his head and met my gaze. His eyes were dark and unreadable.

"I will agree to the surgery," I told him. My heart pounded against my ribs. "I will give her the kidney. But I am doing this for you. I am doing this so you will see me."

"Thank you," he said. He did not reach out to touch me. He did not offer comfort. He walked over to his desk, picked up a thick folder, and walked back to me. "These are the consent forms. The legal team drafted them an hour ago."

He already had the paperwork ready. He knew I would say yes. He knew I was too desperate for his validation to ever tell him no.

I took the folder from his hands. The paper felt heavy. I opened the cover and stared at the dense paragraphs of medical jargon.

Before I could read the first page, the heavy oak doors of the study opened.

Gabriella walked into the room. She wore a pale blue silk robe over her pajamas. Her hair was styled in loose waves, and she looked far too energized for someone who supposedly had failing kidneys.

"Raphael," she called out in a soft, musical voice. "The nurse said you were in here. I felt a little dizzy, and I wanted to see you."

Raphael bypassed me and walked over to her. He held her arm and guided her to the nearest chair. "You should be resting in bed. The doctors want your blood pressure stable."

"I know, but I was worried," Gabriella said. She looked over Raphael's shoulder and locked eyes with me.

A slow, deliberate smirk spread across her face. It only lasted a second before she morphed her expression into a mask of pure sorrow.

"Arabella," Gabriella whispered, her voice trembling. She placed a hand over her chest. "Raphael told me the news. He told me you agreed to the tests."

I tightened my grip on the folder. "Yes."

"I cannot believe you would do this for me," she continued. Tears pooled in her eyes, but none fell. "I know we have had our differences. I know I can be difficult sometimes. But you are giving me a second chance at life. You are an angel."

"I am doing what needs to be done," I said. I kept my voice neutral. I refused to play into her dramatic performance.

Gabriella reached out and grabbed Raphael's hand. She squeezed his fingers. "She is so brave, Raphael. We are so lucky to have her."

Raphael nodded. "The forms are being signed now. The medical team is prepping the private wing at the hospital. We will head over tonight."

"Tonight?" I asked. The timeline caught me off guard. "I thought you said the surgery would be scheduled."

"Her numbers dropped this afternoon," Raphael answered. He did not look at me. He kept his focus on Gabriella.

"The surgeon is on standby. We cannot risk waiting another day."