My daughter has leukemia and desperately needs a bone marrow donor. After a blood test, it turns out my blood type doesn't match hers. However, my husband's blood type does. This confuses me. I gave birth to her, so how could my blood type not be a match for hers? I'm puzzled by this when my long-lost best friend suddenly appears with her son, who's about my daughter's age. She wants him to do a blood test to see whether it matches my daughter's.
View More~Joan~
“This place is... wow,” I muttered as we entered the house, it had floor to ceiling windows, a fireplace and....well, it was perfect.
But something felt slightly off.
“So... how did you know about this place?” I asked Rhoda, who sat on the couch while I walked towards the window and stared down at the view of Spain.
“Well, this is one of Aaron's properties,” she chuckled. I nodded, then paused.
My stomach dropped. What?
“He doesn’t know we're here. I have the spare keys to the building. I mean, why ask when I can just walk in?” Rhoda said, glancing at me with a small smile on her face.
“This is Aaron's house?” I asked slowly. She turned around fully, raising a brow at me.
“Yeah, it’s his.” Her voice was quiet. "What is it?"
I pinched the bridge of my nose, disbelief washing over me. The fuck?
“I can't believe you brought me to Aaron's house of all places,” I muttered. For God's sake, she knows what her brother was like and still she went ahead and brought me to his house?
Rhoda sat up straighter, her smile falling. “Exactly why I said he has no idea we’re here. Jo, your feud with my brother is seriously getting ridiculous.”
“Oh, really? You think this is ridiculous?” I snapped, crossing my arms. “Have you forgotten the time we both landed in jail and he bailed you out, leaving me there to rot?”
Rhoda opened her mouth to speak, but I cut her off. “Or the time we crashed his party, and guess who got blamed for that? Me! He called me a bad influence, told me to stop dragging you into ‘bad things.’ He acts like I’m the villain in your life.” I gritted my teeth.
“Jo...” Rhoda trailed off.
“And now you bring me to his house? You really think I won’t get blamed for this too?” I asked. If I had known, I wouldn't have followed her.
Okay maybe, I still would have. I mean who would turn down a trip to Spain? But we would have booked a hotel room.
Not here. Not this.
Rhoda stood up and turned around the couch, walking towards me.
I’m wrong and I'm really sorry. I didn’t think. I just wanted us to enjoy our girls' trip, and this house is... well, it’s perfect.” She gestured around the house, but I barely glanced at it. “I should have talked to you about it. You’re right.”
I let out a sigh.
"What next?" I asked and her shoulders sagged.
"Well, we could still stay here. He doesn’t know we're here. So...." she wringled her fingers together.
"We could still leave if you want," she added.
"If he doesn't know we're here we could stay," I muttered. Well, he wouldn't just pop up in Spain now, would he?
Rhoda grinned, and I could see the relief on her face.
“We're not gonna stay inside all day now or are we?" She asked, a glint in her eyes. I pursed my lips.
“Please tell me we’re going to see Barcelona,” She added as she grabbed my hand, and she nodded a little too fast.
“Of course! We would," I muttered as we dragged our luggage to the room were we would be staying.
Despite all that Rhoda had said, I still felt slightly uncomfortable. Knowing the house belonged to Aaron just didn't sit right with me.
And hell, I knew something was bound to go wrong. Wherever the man was concerned, something always went wrong.
After freshening up, we decided to explore the neighborhood. At least, we should familiarize ourselves with the vicinity since we'd be staying for a month.
“Tomorrow, we'll go see the Tower, yeah?,” Rhoda asked as we walked back after wandering through a few blocks.
I gave a small nod.
Rhoda sighed and tipped her head back, feeling the cool evening breeze wash over her face, she closed her eyes, a small smile playing on her face.
“It’s nice to breathe fresh air outside of New York,” she sighed. I glanced over at her and followed her lead, raising my head and staring at the dark sky.
Rhoda suddenly opened her eyes, and stared at me. I could see the mischievous glint in them.
“The first one back to the house gets a paid manicure at the fanciest salon in the city!” she said, and before I could process what she said, she darted off.
A laugh escaped me as I ran after her. But oh boy, the girl was goddamn fast.
Who knows? Maybe I would enjoy this trip after all.
We stumbled into the compound and Rhoda pushed the door open stepping in.
I followed after her but she stopped abruptly that I crashed into her back.
"What's it?" I whispered as the color drained from her face.
She remained silent and I peeked at the inside from over her shoulder.
And there he was, in the living room, swirling a glass of something dark. Whiskey maybe.
His eyes were cold and his expression closed off as he finished the last of his drink, slamming the glass on the table.
I was surprised it didn't shatter. Rhoda shuddered lightly while a small frown crept up my face.
Aaron.
The devil had arrived.
"What did you just say, you wretched child?" Margaret screamed.Ignoring the tubes attached to her, she tried to lunge at Atlas. However, the bodyguards behind me stepped forward and restrained her."Enough, Margaret, Ian! Do you really want me to spell out everything you've done? The whole city knows about it now. For ten years, the heiress of the Johanssen family had been deceived into raising a sickly child who wasn't hers. "And how did you treat my son? Ian, Atlas is your son, isn't he? You gave Margaret 200 thousand dollars a month, yet she couldn't even treat him decently! He's ten years old but doesn't even have a birth certificate!" I bellowed.Ian turned to look at Margaret in shock. "What the hell, Margaret? You told me that you needed 500 thousand dollars to file a birth certificate for him, and I'd given it to you! I can't believe you never got it done after getting the money from me!"Faced with her own exposed misdeeds, Margaret began to wail and cry foul. "I can't
After handling the affairs of Johanssen Group, I sent all the information Simeon had gathered along with the evidence I had to the media. It was time to close the net on Ian.…The day my exposé went public, Maisie was in surgery. Ian and Margaret were busy preparing for the procedure, so they were oblivious to the storm brewing outside. Ian even swiped my card to buy Margaret an array of expensive supplements. He could spend as much money as he liked—every penny would be paid back in spades.I glanced at the trending topics and saw that eight out of ten of them were about the shocking family scandal that I had released.Most netizens expressed outrage on my behalf, but there were dissenting voices too."How do we know this isn't just a publicity stunt by the Johanssen family? First, there was that scandal about the general manager, and now there's this swap from birth drama.""Yeah. Could this all be a ploy to manipulate stock prices after the recent dip?""Agreed. Anyone sym
People always seemed to enjoy the classic story of a poor man abandoning a rich woman to pursue his true love. But this time, the narrative would take an unexpected turn that would disappoint many. The rich woman woke up and decided to put a stop to being a lovesick fool. She would tear the deceitful ladder climber apart with her own two hands.…As the media buzz intensified, Johanssen Group called for a board meeting.At the meeting, many of my family elders who had never been on my side immediately went on the offensive. They argued that I had no right to inherit the Johanssen family's business as a pampered heiress. Some even suggested that Ian should take over the family business as the competent former son-in-law. Others proposed that Maisie should take the Johanssen family name and inherit Johanssen Group to keep the ownership within the family.I sat there watching coldly as my extended relatives—my so-called family—casually discussed how to divide the wealth and legacy
The agreement was straightforward. It stipulated that Margaret would voluntarily donate her bone marrow stem cells to the child of Ian Glock and his wife. In return, Ian and his wife would cover all of Margaret's hospital expenses and all her future living costs.Ian glanced at it and seemed very pleased. At work, people often referred to us as "Ms. Johanssen" and "Ms. Johanssen's husband" respectively. So, it was rare for Ian to take the lead when being referred to.He quickly signed his name without waiting for me to review the document. Then, he handed it to Margaret to sign.Well, look at that—everyone seemed happy with this arrangement. It was perfect. "Ian and his wife" seemed pretty satisfied, and that was all that mattered.…When I took Atlas to the vital records office and ran a search, I discovered something shocking.Margaret had never bothered to file a birth certificate for Atlas due to having to fork out a meager 50-dollar filing fee. Despite Atlas being ten year
When I arrived at the hospital with Cain, who was now dressed in decent clothes that kept him warm, I found that Margaret had already checked into a VIP hospital room.Of course, this was done by using my credit card to pay for it.The moment I stepped into the room, I was greeted by an infuriating sight that I wished I could sear away from my memory.Margaret was getting an IV inserted while leaning her whole body into Ian's embrace. Only one of her arms was exposed, and in a sickly cloying voice, she asked, "Ian, is it done yet?"Ian was gently stroking her head as if to comfort her. At the same time, he scolded the nurse and demanded, "Be gentle! Don't hurt my dear!" The nurse's patience was clearly at its limit as she rolled her eyes in exasperation. Unable to watch any longer, I cleared my throat noisily. Upon seeing me standing by the door, Ian immediately shoved Margaret away. Unfortunately, the nurse was still applying tape to secure the IV needle. His sudden and unexpe
"Oh, Sweetie. I'm not being kind to you because of your mother. I'm telling you this because there's a chance I might actually be your mom," I said to Cain.I decided not to beat around the bush. Cain needed to know eventually. And the sooner he knew, the better it was for me. After I said that, the atmosphere between us grew strangely silent. I thought my words might have been too overwhelming for a ten-year-old boy. But when Cain finally spoke, his first words shocked me.He remarked, "No wonder. I always wondered how a mother could despise her child and not love him."His thin frame, which was now wrapped in high-end children's clothes, carried a forlorn air with a faint trace of self-deprecating bitterness. At that moment, I felt like the DNA test was unnecessary—I was sure this was my child.Still, I couldn't skip any steps. I had to follow through to ensure that the vile couple who caused this separation would pay dearly for their actions. I would see to it that the fake da
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