Chapter 6 Drained Dry

Elias' expression softened, as if everything could go back to normal. Still, I knew there was no going back.

"Elias, there's no need for a wedding. Let's break up."

He stared at me in shock before he said in an unbearably patient tone, "There you go again, saying things you don't mean. Zoey and I are completely innocent. She even volunteered to be your bridesmaid. Isn't that enough to put your mind at ease?"

A mocking smile tugged at my lips. I couldn't even be bothered arguing.

Three days. That was all I had left. I thought the worst was already over. I was wrong.

That was because Rachel, Elias' assistant, arrived with a group of bodyguards and dragged me into the blood transfusion room the very next morning.

She said Zoey had fallen from the stands while helping Elias rehearse for the wedding and needed a transfusion.

Inside, Elias paced anxiously.

Zoey sat in a wheelchair, basking in his concern as she shot me a provocative look.

Her so-called injury was a two-inch cut on her ankle. She barely lost any blood. That cut was superficial at best!

Elias didn't even wait for the nurse. He personally jabbed the needle into my arm, guilt written all over his face.

"I'm sorry, Cece. Zoey got hurt while helping scout things out for you, so you have a responsibility to help her. It's only a little blood. You're healthy. I'm sure you'll recover quickly. As soon as Zoey's okay, we'll have the wedding immediately."

Unfortunately, the blood flowing through the tube was pink.

Elias froze. He didn't know that was a sign of end-stage leukemia. Regardless, he knew enough to know that it wasn't normal.

Zoey's eyes flickered. Then, she struggled theatrically to rise from her wheelchair.

"Elias, I can't believe Celia would rather sabotage the blood than donate it. She must've done something to make it turn pink. Forget it. I don't want her blood. It's only a little blood loss. I'll be fine."

I almost laughed.

Elias had personally stuck the needle in my vein. What exactly could I have tampered with?

Alas, he straightened, his face hardening. "Celia, you almost fooled me."

He turned sharply. "Rachel, I'll leave this to you. Keep going until the blood runs red."

Then, he pushed Zoey away to see the doctor.

From the next room over, I heard the doctor's voice. "The patient is just mildly anemic. No transfusion is necessary."

Elias answered firmly, "No. I won't allow anything to happen to Zoey."

Elias' bodyguards stood around me, their eyes boring holes in me like hungry predators. They pinned down my arms and legs so I couldn't move.

Time dragged on, and every minute felt like a century.

They had already drawn nearly 27 ounces. The vein in my arm had all but stopped producing blood, yet the plasma remained pink, growing paler by the minute.

Rachel finally called Elias when she saw I was barely breathing, panic creeping into her voice. "Mr. Thatcher, we've already taken nearly 27 ounces, but..."

His voice came back cold and sharp. "That's not enough. Tell Celia I'll get her the best medicine, the best food to help her recover. Tell her to hold on a little longer."

My eyes were dead.

I pulled out my phone and texted the undertaker, instructing him to collect my body today.

As my blood drained away, so did my remaining body heat. My limbs turned colder and colder. Eventually, the spots in my vision finally overwhelmed the light. My head lolled to one side, and darkness swallowed me whole.

Rachel approached Elias with trembling hands 30 minutes later, carrying three large bags of pink blood.

He flew into a rage. "What the hell is this? Are you helping Celia mess with me, too?"

Then, he stormed toward the next room to confront me.

Rachel froze before looking at him with a stricken look on her face.

"Mr. Thatcher... didn't you know?" she whispered tremulously. "You drained Ms. Starling dry. She's dead."