The Billionaire Blood Bound Wife

CHARLOTTE

“Her body can't keep it up,” a man's voice floated through my hazy mind, filled with concern. “She is giving more than an average person should. At this rate… we're going to kill her.”

My eyes fluttered open and snapped shut as the room swayed before me. I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out.

“She signed up for it,” Christian's cold response reached my ears. “She’ll be fine. You're doctors for Christ’s sake—Keep her alive. Find something— anything to keep her going when she's exhausted.”

What was he talking about? Slowly, my memories trickled in– my trip to the hospital. To donate blood for her. Our routine. 

I flinched as the pounding in my head increased. How long has it been this time? 

“Mr Christain–”

“Do it, doctor! I don’t pay you that amount of money to question me. If anything happens to either of them, be ready to lose your hospital.”

I wetted my lips and tried to speak again. I had to tell them I didn’t feel so good, but only a moan escaped my lips.

Someone approached me just as soft hands grabbed mine. I squeezed the hands weakly, trying to ask for help. A needle pricked my skin, but it felt very far away, almost like I’d dreamt it up.

My body jerked as they pumped something into my veins. Exhausted, I let my head fall to the side, my gaze instantly resting on my husband. His back was turned to me, his head buried on her chest.

A sharp pain flashed through my heart just before I lost consciousness.

*****************************

“Ms Charlotte.”

A gentle tap pulled me out of my drug-induced sleep. Grogily, my eyes rested on the woman’s face hovering over me. 

It took me a moment to realise I was still in the hospital. The pounding in my head started almost immediately. I tried to remember —

“How long have I been here?” I asked, my throat burning with each word. I needed water. I needed fresh air. Panicking, I tried to sit up. “I need to get out of–”

The room spun violently, and I slumped back into the bed, panting. What was happening? I have never felt this way after my donation.

Soft hands reached behind my back. “Let me help you,” the nurse offered kindly, gently pulling me to a sitting position. “You’ve got to take it easy, Ms Charlotte. You’ve exhausted yourself. A rest is what I suggest when you get home. Plenty of it.”

“Thank you,” I muttered, sipping from the straw she pushed in between my lips. 

A few quiet seconds passed “Can I use the restroom?” I asked, feeling the urge to relieve myself.

She nodded and slowly helped me to the toilet. “I’ll be waiting outside the room to escort you to your car,” she said, before leaving me on my own. Leaning on the sink, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and winced. Dark circles shone underneath my eyes, and my skin looked ashy and pale.

I splashed water on my face and looked again.

Much better.

Stepping out, my gaze fell on the occupied bed next to mine. She still looked the same, even after three years. No improvement, not even a flutter, yet she has a firm, unwavering grip on my husband’s heart and existence.

A tear slipped quietly down my cheek.

“Ms Charlotte?”

They never called me Mrs Hale. Not here. Not when she was present. Everyone knew who the real Mrs Hale was. Who had the charming, eccentric billionaire running at the mention of her name. She was revered, even in her comatose state.

He made sure of it.

“Coming,” I called weakly, picked up my bag and wobbled out of the room.

She wheeled me to the entrance, where Greg, my driver, was already waiting. After saying my thanks, we drove out of the hospital, my mind already ticking off the chores I had to do despite the blinding ache in my head. Best not to acknowledge it.

“What time is it?” I asked Grey, too tired to reach for my phone.

A pause. “Half past six, ma’am.”

I was late. They’ve never held me for this long. Panic fluttered in my stomach. I was late and Christian would be home in… 30 minutes. I had made no preparation prior. I would have to whip up something quick before he gets home. How did I let them keep me there for so long? I would have to speak with the doctor during my next appointment.

The car screeched to a stop in front of our Victorian house in our private estate. With a wave of my hand, I dismissed Greg, making my way to the sitting room. Ignoring the nausea rising in my throat, I headed for the couch and sank into it. 

Five minutes and I’ll drag my ass to the kitchen. Maybe tonight he might agree to eat with me. He should be happy today... I fulfilled my duty without making a scene. 

My phone pinged, jolting me awake. Reaching for my purse, I searched blindly for my phone and flipped it open.

My heart sank at the short message staring back at me. It was from my husband: I’ll be staying at the hospital tonight.

I stared at his words, my thumb hovering over the screen. A bitter taste filled my mouth. I hated myself. For dreaming. For even thinking about it. I knew his routine and it never ended with us sharing a dinner or a bed. 

So why did I choose to torture myself? I have given my body, literally, to prove my love, and yet he won’t even spare me a kind word. How much more do I have to give for him to see me?  Wiping my tears, I punched in the word ‘okay’ and idly scrolled down our messages. I shouldn’t have. It was the same pattern. Same excuses over the same woman. 

He would pick her over and over again, even if it broke me to pieces. Even if I begged for his attention with my last breath. I sniffed, feeling my heart shatter into pieces.

Three Years Ago

My mum dragged me to the room a minute too late. I’d already seen the headline on the news.

“What’s going on?” I whispered, my body shaking with the news I just received. “Is this why I’m here? Is she dead?”

My mum slammed the door shut. “Shhh. Lower your voice. Someone might hear you.”

“It’s all over the news, Mum.” I tried not to scream. Shaking my hand free, I paced the room. One question burned my tongue. “Is this why I'm here? A substitute bride?”

Mum sighed and I knew my answer. Shock vibrated through my body, weakening my knees. I slumped into the bed. Shaking my head, I tried to make sense of what she was saying. “No. I refuse to marry like this.”

The space beside me sagged with her weight. “Char, let me explain,” she pleaded, reaching for my hands. “Your father and I received the request yesterday. Vivienne, Christian’s fiancée fell into a coma yesterday. She was involved in a car accident. The doctors are saying something about no activity in her brain… and she might remain in a coma for the rest of her life.”

“But on the news, they said she had an autoimmune sickness.”

“It’s a cover-up. Mr Hale doesn’t want the world to know how the accident happened. Christain has refused to take her off life support. It’s rumoured he ordered  a doctor 24 hours on her, even though there’s nothing any doctor can do for her at this point.”

My heart broke at the thought of Christian in pain. Yet, “What has this got to do with me?”

“Mr Hale doesn’t want his money wasted. You just have to take her place at the altar and play the role of Christian’s wife for a few years.” Her finger hooked my chin, tilting my head until I was looking into her eyes. “I thought you were in love with Christian. Has that changed?”

I looked away. I love Christian. Have loved him since I was 12. “No,” I muttered, ashamed at the intensity of my feelings in one word. “But this isn’t how I imagined my fairytale to be.”

“Sometimes, things don’t play out the way we envision. That’s life. You’ve got your man now and years ahead to build something between the two of you. Even bear his son.” Her finger dropped. “Moreover, Mr Hale has promised to help your father with his business. It’s not something we can reject at this time.”

This was it. I was being traded for my father’s business. I should be angry, but all I felt was the flicker of excitement growing within me. Being Mrs Charlotte Hale was always my dream, one that seemed bleak. But now it was staring me in the face.

I would be foolish not to give it a try. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

“Only one more thing. Christian has insisted that you donate blood to Vivienne until she recovers. But you don’t have to worry. I don’t think it would be long before she fades away.”

I ignored her last statement. “Did he really say that?”

“Yes or there’s no deal.”

For the first time since I learnt my new fate, a finger of dread slid down my spine. But I knew it wasn’t enough to keep me from the love of my life.

“Fine. I’ll do it just for him.”

She pulled me into a hug. Releasing me, she grabbed a brush. “Let’s get you ready. We have a crowd waiting for us.”

Hurriedly, I got dressed in a wedding gown that was never meant for me. I donned the compulsory veil and I was set. The fluttering in my stomach grew wild as I walked down the aisle, with Christian staring down at me.

He took my hand from my father and crushed me against his chest.

“You’ll never take her place,” he hissed, killing every butterfly in my stomach.

********************

The front door flew open, pulling me out of my restless slumber. Searching around me, my eyes fell on the huge clock above the TV. I sighed, realising I’d passed the night on the couch.

My body was going to make me pay throughout the day.

“What are you doing here?” his voice rocked my head back. Why did he have to be so cold? It was just 7am. Was this just a part of him he kept specially for me?

I swallowed, my tongue bitter. “I fell asleep on the couch. The visit to the hospital–”

“Save it,” he cut me off, glaring at me. “Your pity stories should be yours alone. I just came back to pack a bag of clothes. I’ll be sleeping in the hospital for a couple of days.”

“Why?” The question left my mouth before I could stop it. He’d never done something like this.

“Vivienne is awake.”

My world turned black. Only the face of the man, smirking, taunted my hazed head.

Then, he was gone.