Chapter 1

A downpour hit without warning, leaving me soaked to the bone. I trudged along the street, feeling numb and heartbroken as my mind replayed scenes from the past.

When I was ten, my brother, Jeremy Hurst, and I were in a car accident. Only I survived.

When I woke up, my cousin, Evelyn Green, stormed in and slapped me. "Why didn't you take care of Jeremy?"

The moment she said that, Mom and Dad erupted. Their fingers dug into my throat as they spat, "Why wasn't it you who died?"

From then on, they treated me like I was their enemy. I was too young to fight back, so I was helpless when they targeted me with their beatings and insults and locked me in the basement. I was forced to kneel in a corner while they brushed Evelyn's hair with tenderness, fed her, and celebrated her birthdays…

I thought my whole life would be bleak and loveless.

On my 18th birthday, when Evelyn's friends beat me so badly my head was split open, my entire family stood by without lifting a finger.

I begged Dad for help, but he said I deserved to die. I pleaded with Mom, but she merely turned and walked away.

Just as I was about to be beaten to death, Morgan Oakley, the mafia boss, walked in and saved me. He didn't just pummel the ones hurting me; he even draped his coat over my torn dress and kissed my forehead with aching care. "Jazz, I'm sorry I came late."

He showed proof of his secret love for me and confessed to me with sincerity. I fell for him instantly.

After we got together, he spoiled me so openly that everyone knew about us. For the first time, life tasted sweet. His love felt too good to be true, and I guarded it like something fragile. However, in the end, I learned it had all been a lie.

Morgan didn't love me. He was just using me to save the woman he really cared about—Evelyn.

Three years ago, Evelyn was diagnosed with a coagulation disorder. Any injury would make her bleed nonstop, and she constantly needed transfusions of Rh-negative blood. That was when Morgan "rescued" and pursued me.

Once we were together, he took me to donate blood all the time. Each time, I'd have 800ml of blood drawn from me.

I stumbled on a rock at that thought and hit the ground. The bandage on my arm was scraped off, exposing a cluster of needle marks.

So, Morgan had calculated everything from the moment we'd met. He'd planned on trampling my heart and draining my blood.

How could Morgan be so cruel?

I had no idea how I made it home, but as soon as I reached the door, I heard Evelyn screeching at the top of her lungs. "I can't let Morgan know the person who saved him back then was Jasmine, not me! He'll stop loving me! I can't let him know I'm faking being sick, or I won't get to watch Jasmine suffer through transfusions!

"I hate every fiber of Jasmine's being! How did she manage to survive that car crash? If she'd died in it, Morgan's heart would be all mine now!"

I froze when I heard that, and my blood turned to ice.

So, the little boy I'd saved all those years ago was Morgan. I hadn't even recognized him. All this time, Evelyn had deceived him. He'd loved the wrong person.

And Jeremy's death wasn't an accident. Evelyn had caused it!

When she'd stayed with my family, she'd hated that my parents loved me and Jeremy more than her, so she'd plotted to have us run over.

She never had any illness. She'd just invented it to torture me.

I secretly saved the surveillance footage to my phone and quickly slipped away from home. I had to find Morgan and my parents. I wanted to tell them the truth.

I didn't just want to clear my name. I also wanted to expose Evelyn's crimes.

Just then, I received a message from my professor. He invited me to further my studies in Orzelia, and the departure would be in three days.

It was an opportunity I'd dreamed of.

I slowed down. If I told everyone the truth right now, they would definitely stop me from leaving. It'd be better for me to wait three days and tell them only after I was gone.

I was about to turn around when a car sped toward me. Shock hit me like a wave, and I blacked out.

When I woke, Morgan was holding me tightly with red-rimmed eyes. It was almost as if I were his treasure.

A mixture of hurt and bitterness rose in my chest. I rasped, "Would you be sad if I got hurt?"

He said, "Of course! My heart's aching for you right now. It stopped when I saw you unconscious! Jazz, promise me one thing—don't get hurt again. It breaks me to see you wounded."

His words seem to make the needle marks on my arm throb all at once.