Chapter 4

Zeke clutched his chest as pain ripped through every inch of his body.

So Ruth loved Calvin that much, huh? She was even willing to get pregnant for him.

Thinking back, she'd never wanted kids with Zeke. She'd always said her career came first and that pregnancy would just distract her, but now it was clear that was just an excuse. She simply didn't want his baby.

As he walked home in a daze, his phone buzzed in his hand. A notification from the delivery platform popped up—he'd been fired.

Ruth had to be behind this. Just like that, he'd lost his wages and bonus.

No way. That was the money he needed to bury Margaret.

Every muscle in his body was pulled tight as he rushed back out the door, determined to demand an explanation from the delivery platform.

But as he cut through a deserted side alley, a red sports car came speeding straight toward him. With a sickening bang, the impact sent him flying nearly 30 feet.

Through the pain, Zeke saw someone stumble out of the driver's seat, panic all over his face as he frantically made a call.

"Ruth, help! I accidentally hit Zeke! He got jealous and tried to attack me. I was already in the car and about to drive off, but he suddenly jumped out to stop me!"

The call was on speaker. Ruth's breath hitched on the other end, but when she spoke, her voice was soft and gentle. "It's his own fault for throwing a tantrum and getting jealous. Don't worry, and don't be scared. I'll come over and take care of it."

A few minutes later, Ruth arrived. She first took a moment to calm the shaken Calvin. Then, she walked toward Zeke, who lay limp on the ground. She bent down, ready to help him up.

Calvin suddenly spoke up, sounding weak, "Ruth, my heart's beating so fast. I'm scared…"

Ruth panicked at once. She immediately left Zeke to her bodyguards and turned back to steady Calvin. "Take him to the hospital. I'll stay with Cal."

The last thing Zeke saw before blacking out was Ruth walking away without looking back.

…

When Zeke opened his eyes again, he was lying in a hospital bed. He tried to move, but every organ in his body hurt, and it felt like his bones were about to fall apart.

He had just dialed the police when the door swung open, and Ruth strode in. She snatched the phone right out of his hand, her eyes cold.

"You can't call the cops. Calvin didn't hit you on purpose. You're the one who went looking for trouble by picking on him."

Zeke's heart clenched hard. "I wasn't picking on him, Ruth. He rammed into me on purpose. You can check the dashcam!"

A flicker of impatience crossed Ruth's eyes, as if everything he said was just some lie he'd cooked up out of jealousy. She gripped his shoulders with both hands, her tone suddenly turning coaxing.

"Fine, fine. It's Calvin's first time driving a sports car. He isn't used to it yet. He didn't mean to hit you. Don't blow this out of proportion, alright? If word gets out, people will think my husband doesn't know how to behave. How about I buy you a Rolex to make it up to you?"

Zeke couldn't believe his ears. His chest ached like someone was sawing through his heart with a dull blade. He was in pain from head to toe, and there was a real chance he had internal injuries. Yet she thought a watch was enough to get him to forgive the culprit and keep him from calling the police?

He grabbed the glass of water on the bedside table and hurled it at her, roaring, "I'm never taking another cent from you. Get out!"

Ruth's face darkened. She called him ungrateful, then stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

Zeke gritted his teeth and forced himself to think through the heartache. He had no job, no bonus, and now his body was wrecked. How was he supposed to make money to pay for Margaret's burial?

His gaze dropped to the IV needle in the back of his hand, and an idea flashed through his mind.

…

Zeke found someone offering cash for blood and called to arrange a meeting. Then he staggered out of the hospital to meet him.

"Hi, it was me who called earlier. You said you'd pay for blood…"

A middle-aged man was leaning against a van, looking bored and annoyed. "Hurry up and get in. It's 500 bucks for seven ounces. The more you give, the more you get."

Zeke's heart lurched. Still, he agreed to do it. He was too desperate for the money.

By the time they were done drawing his blood and he finally had the cash in hand, he was so weak he could barely walk straight. He clutched the hard-earned thousand dollars tightly and headed back.

But just as he reached the mouth of a narrow alley, someone slammed into him. Before he could react, the money was ripped from his hand.

"Get back here!"

Zeke shook all over as he staggered after the thief, but his body was too weak. No matter how he pushed himself, he just couldn't catch up.

He was on the verge of breaking down. The money he had literally sold his blood for was gone, just like that.

He was still shaking as he made his way back to his hospital room, planning to pull the security footage and call the police to catch the thief. But as he neared the neighboring room, he heard a burst of familiar laughter.

He walked up to the door and saw Calvin inside, doubled over with laughter. He had a thousand bucks in cash fanned out in his hand.

"God, Zeke's such an idiot. Did he actually think selling his blood for money would win Ruth's attention? As if I'd let him get what he wants!"

The man next to him nodded. "I grabbed the money like you told me to, Mr. Ward. So…"

"Relax. It's all yours."

With a grand wave, Calvin handed the thief the money Zeke had risked his life to earn.