Chapter 1 He Chose The Mistress Over His Wife.

"Stage II heart cancer. Less than three months to live."

Bellatrix walked out of the hospital, the doctor’s words echoing in her head. She sank weakly onto the steps. All week she’d been battling nausea, thinking maybe she was pregnant—that’s why she’d taken off work for the doctor’s appointment.

Tears fell without warning. Why was fate so cruel to her? She wanted to call her husband, but couldn’t bring herself to dial. She wasn’t ready to face that familiar cold indifference.

No doubt about it: the person who hated her most was her own husband—Cillian Alexander Laurente.

Twenty-four-year-old Bellatrix Laurente had carried a torch for Cillian since they were kids. He’d always been unreadable, mysterious. After his parents died, he’d been hit with recurring fevers. She’d stayed by his side nursing him back to health, believing her kindness would eventually make him love her.

But everything changed after he recovered. Cillian suddenly declared Regina was the one—the love of his life. When Regina vanished soon after, Bellatrix was forced into marrying Cillian to seal a merger between their powerful families. He hadn’t objected.

She’d been naive enough to think his heart might finally turn toward her. That someday he’d return her feelings—that their marriage could be like the sweeping romances in her favorite shows.

Instead, the past four years were a lonely icebox. Except when he’d drunkenly sleep with her, they barely interacted. He wouldn’t even share meals. To him, she was just a transactional tool. His heart never stopped yearning for Regina.

And now? Heart cancer. Three months left. If Cillian heard the news, he’d probably be thrilled.

"The surgery requires your husband’s consent." The doctor’s words echoed again. She had to reach him. Three calls went straight to voicemail. Maybe he’s in a meeting, she told herself. She was only one of his assistants—she only knew fragments of his schedule.

She needed to go home. Every step felt like a fight as she staggered to her feet, her body threatening to buckle. As she reached for the stair railing, commotion at the entrance caught her eye.

She froze.

A man stepped out of a luxury sedan idling by the hospital doors—tall, powerfully built, draped in a designer suit that screamed old money. Her husband. Cillian.

What…what’s he doing here? Did he know she was sick? Was he here…for her?

She took an unsteady step forward, but Cillian immediately turned and bent into the car—scooping a woman into his arms.

Bellatrix’s breath hitched. Her gaze locked onto the woman in his embrace. The longer she looked, the colder the dread spreading through her veins became. She recognized that face instantly.

Warm brown hair. Delicate features. Honey-colored eyes. And that unmistakable aura of wounded innocence she always wore to get her way.

Regina Lancaster. Her half-sister.

How could she forget? The shadow over her marriage. The woman poisoning her life. Cillian’s real love.

She shouldn’t feel this stab of pain. She knew Regina was carved into her husband’s heart. But seeing it… her whole body trembled. No—this wasn’t pain. It was rage.

He was her husband. This marriage wasn’t some favor she’d begged for. So why did he get to stomp on her dignity like this? She had every right to stand up for herself. She walked straight toward them.

“Bella?” Regina called out first, but Bellatrix didn’t miss the triumphant gleam in her eyes. Blinding, on Regina’s fragile face.

Cillian’s gaze finally left Regina and landed on Bellatrix. The tenderness vanished, replaced by that ice-cold stare she knew all too well.

“Bellatrix,” he said, his brow furrowing. “Why are you here?”

“I—” Bella started to explain about her diagnosis, but Regina cut in.

Turning tear-filled eyes to Cillian, Regina whispered, “Her kidney’s a match. That’s why I came back. But I could never ask her to do that… even after she took my place marrying you.”

“What?! No, I won’t—” Bella refused. She had cancer. Another surgery was impossible.

Cillian’s voice cut through hers like frost. “You will.”

She glared. “Why should I? To you two, I’m just some scheming villain. No!” She turned to leave before the tears fell.

His hand clamped onto her wrist.

“You did this to Gina. You owe her,” Cillian snapped. “You will fix what you broke.”

“Me?” She stared at him, stunned. “What… what are you talking about?”

“Drop the innocent act. You drove Regina away. Made her leave Miami, cut her off from me, forced her into that life. You owe her. You’re going to repay every bit of it—or I’ll ruin your father’s company.” Rage and resentment dripped from every word.

None of it was true.

But right now, she needed just one answer. She forced the words out, each one fragile. “What if… what if I’m sick? What if I’m dying?”

A pointless question, but she had to hear it.

Cillian’s silence was colder than a winter wind. When he finally spoke, it was a dagger. “I don’t care. Sick, dying—it changes nothing. You will give Gina that kidney.” His voice hardened. “Even if I have to cut it out of your corpse.”

It shouldn’t have hurt, yet a hole opened inside her. She opened her mouth to speak—but erupted into violent coughs instead. A trace of blood smeared her lips.

Regina gasped, recoiling into Cillian’s arms. “Oh god! I can’t get sick now! Cillian, get me out of here! This air is disgusting.”

Damn them. They were leaving. Sick or not, Bellatrix wanted to throw something at their retreating backs.

But Cillian paused. “Take care of yourself.” Both women looked at him. He met Bellatrix’s stare coldly. “A healthy kidney serves Regina better.”

Bellatrix felt like the ground vanished.

Regina offered a fake pout. “Cillian, that’s too harsh. She’s still your wife.”

“I only care about you, Regina,” he murmured softly as they walked away.

Bellatrix watched them go. Her fists clenched so tight her nails bit into her palms. The tears she’d held back finally spilled over.

Even now. He didn’t care. He never had.

But foolishly—maybe because death felt so close—she’d hoped today would be different. As her husband, shouldn’t he show some concern?

Instead, he’d chosen her half-sister over his dying wife.

Another wave of pain racked her body. The coughs returned, harsher this time. She couldn’t let them keep stomping on her dignity. She was going to file for divorce.

Suddenly, her vision swam. Before she could steady herself, her knees buckled. She collapsed to the ground. Darkness swallowed everything.