Chapter 2

I had no idea for how long I was out but when I awoke, I was still bleeding on the villa's steps, with the doors shut in my face. I painfully picked myself and my dignity up. Abandoning the broken shoes drenched in my blood, I grabbed my suitcase and staggered towards the gate. Hopefully, I had not been out long enough to disrupt my plans to leave James for good.

Near the gate, there was a suspicious looking black sedan and none of the gatemen were in sight. I quickened my pace and tried to ignore. How far would James really go to hold me back? The gate was locked with a new and bigger padlock. In my own marital home, I was no longer mistress. Two able-bodied men who I recognised as James' cronies pulled me roughly back into the villa. My struggles were no match for them as they bound me tightly to a chair in James' study. James glared at me coldly.

"What is the meaning of this?" I demanded.

With no ceremony or explanation, the family doctor drove a huge needle into my veins and started drawing copiously large amounts of my blood. My mind fogged as the doctor carried three pints of my blood out of the room.

"Mona's blood type is rare and you're the only one so far who has it. Before you leave, I need your blood just in case Mona ever needs a transfusion. That reminds me, you don't have to act like you're leaving just to get my sympathy. It only makes you pathetic. You aren't a child, so reason like an adult."

James cold eyes flashed as he left me for his mistress. I truly was nothing to him more than a blood bank for Mona.

***

Two days later, I woke up in a hospital room, extremely weak from the massive blood loss. My feet were bandaged and James was surprisingly by my bedside reading a magazine. I could not fathom why he was here instead of with Mona. There were countless scenarios in the past when he chose Mona over me. Very recently, while I was suffering from an allergic reaction, James has literally stepped over me because he had a date with Mona. He did not even alert the maids. My life flashed before my eyes as I grapled in agony, trying to find my EpiPen. When James returned, he acted like nothing happened. Like it wasn't a sheer miracle that I was still alive.

He mechanically handed me a cup of water. I accepted it to soothe my dry throat. James folded his hands and coldly surveyed me. "You must be well enough to be discharged now. Two whole days in the hospital as if money is plucked from trees."

I ignored his jab and calmly requested for my phone. A nurse brought it to me and I powered it on to see several missed calls all from one number. I didn't know James was peering. "Who's been calling you?" he asked like the entitled prick he was. For cheating on me over and over again, he logically had no right to inquire about my affairs. Just like he did not know that I was planning to leave him before he had my body hijacked and my blood stolen.

"None of your business," I flatly said, turning the phone screen away from him.

"Are you hiding something from me?"

"You don't have to act like you care. You don't have to force yourself to act like my husband."

"You'd be nothing without me Ronica. How long do you plan to behave like a brat? Why can't you just be grateful that you are still my wife? Seriously, I give you an inch and you want the whole mile. Aren't you happy that I am here by your side even when I don't have to?"

"You don't have to indeed. If you leave right now, I won't be mad," I murmured.

His words had passed one ear and left through the other. Because I had abandoned my family and career by marrying James, I had nothing else to depend on but his finances. For the whole duration of our marriage, he practically had me in financial bondage. Whenever I displeased him, he would block all my cards. James had no idea the situation wasn't like that anymore. James was expecting me to ask for his forgiveness but I kept mute. I was done grovelling. His phone began to ring.

"Your mistress's calling," I quipped. It was an accurate guess. James scrambled out of the room like a starved puppy to answer the call.

As if knowing James was gone, my own phone began to ring. I drew in a steadying breath and answered.

"Why has your phone been switched off? It's been two days and I've been trying to reach you!" An urgent voice broke through on the line. I was so relieved to hear it that I said nothing, hoping the echoes would endure in my mind.

"Ronica?" The owner of the voice called uncertainly. "Are you still there?"

"Yes, yes I am."

"Did you change your mind?"

"No, no, something came up."

The voice swore in Spanish. "Something came up, again? My driver told me you never showed up and he waited for hours. Then there's you with a phone switched off for two days. No, this won't do. I am coming to collect you myself!"