
The Final Call,Bleeding for Nothing
Ladys · Ongoing · 7.3k Words
Introduction
As I was wheeled into the emergency room, blood trickled from the corner of my mouth. I heard a doctor shouting: "Where's the next of kin? We need a signature for surgery, now!"
My hands shaking violently, I dialed Mu Jingshen's number.
His contact was saved under "A Hubby", pinned to the very top of my contact list, just so I'd never miss a single call from him.
The call connected, and I forced out every last bit of my strength to speak, my voice weak and trembling:
"Jingshen, I need emergency surgery. Can you come sign the consent forms for me, please..."
But it wasn't his voice that came through the line. It was Shen Wanrong's, sweet and cloying: "Jiejie, Jingshen's busy giving Huanhuan a bath right now."
The sound of running water stopped.
I heard him ask who was on the phone.
Shen Wanrong spoke in a hurt, plaintive whine: "It's Jiejie... Jingshen, do you want to take the call? What if it's an emergency?"
But he just said, his voice flat and dismissive: "Ignore her. Nothing could ever be more important than being here for Huanhuan's birthday."
Huanhuan was Shen Wanrong's pet dog.
Chapter 1
Octavia Douglas' POV:
To help Albert Learmond's company get investment, I drank until my stomach perforated.
When I was rushed to the ER, blood was seeping from the corner of my mouth. I heard the doctor shouting, "Where's the family? We need a signature, now!"
I called Albert with shaking hands.
His contact name was "Honey."
I'd pinned him at the top of my contacts, afraid I'd miss him if he tried to reach me.
The call connected. I used all my strength to say, "Albert, I need surgery. Can you come sign the papers..."
But it was Wendy Douglas's voice that came through: "Albert's giving Buddy a bath."
The sound of water stopped.
I heard him ask whose call it was.
Wendy said in a hurt voice, "It's Octavia, Albert. Do you want to answer? What if it's urgent?"
But he said, "Ignore her. What could be more important than celebrating Buddy's birthday?"
Buddy was Wendy's dog.
Chapter 1
The call ended.
The doctor looked at me. That call to "Honey" had lasted just forty-seven seconds. There was something in his eyes I couldn't quite name—maybe pity.
"Miss, do you have any other family members?"
I shook my head and signed the papers myself.
As they wheeled me into the operating room, I stared at the ceiling thinking, how did we become like this?
Seven years ago, he emptied his company accounts, mortgaged his house, to pay for my grandmother's medical bills. He said he'd never let me get hurt again.
What happened to those words?
When I woke up, there were two missed calls and several messages on my phone.
[Octavia Douglas, where did you run off to?]
[Don't play hard to get with me.]
[If you don't come back, we're getting divorced.]
I opened social media.
Wendy had posted a photo of herself leaning against Albert's chest, wearing that thirty-million-dollar diamond necklace—the one Albert bought her at an auction.
Caption: [After coming back home, Albert still loves me so much.]
Comments from his friends below:
[The first love is back!]
[Thirty million for a necklace without blinking—Wendy must be his true love.]
[Look at how Albert looks at her, way more loving than how he looks at Octavia.]
And his reply at the bottom: [It's just a necklace. If Wendy likes it, I'll buy it anytime.]
In three years of marriage, what had he ever given me?
The most expensive thing was the wedding ring—twelve thousand dollars.
He said it was the startup phase, asked me to understand.
I understood for three years.
Tears hit the screen. I wiped them away, pulled out the IV, and rushed to the office.
Today I had an appointment with Mr. Gray to discuss renewing the contract. His company's new product had issues, and several partners were demanding compensation. We couldn't lose this deal.
At the office door, I heard laughter inside.
Through the frosted glass, two figures were tangled together. Intimate sounds came through in fragments.
I pushed the door open.
Albert froze for a moment, then returned to his usual self: "You finally decided to come back? Three days without answering your phone—I thought you were dead."
I didn't say anything, just went to grab the files on the desk.
Wendy poked her head out from his arms, saying sweetly, "Albert, maybe Octavia's just throwing a tantrum. You should comfort her."
He lowered his head and kissed her: "If only she were as obedient as you."
I picked up the files and headed out.
He grabbed my wrist: "Where are you going?"
I pulled away: "Meeting Mr. Gray about the contract. It's your company's business. If you're not worried, I am."
He paused, his tone softening a bit: "I'll come with you."
He went out to arrange the schedule. Wendy brought over a cup of hot water, smiling: "Octavia, have some water."
Then she leaned close to my ear and whispered, "Octavia, you can't win against me. Going against me will only end like it did for your mom."
My whole body started shaking.
My mom killed herself when I was nine. My dad had an affair while my mom was pregnant and had Wendy. My mom got postpartum depression, struggled for years, then took sleeping pills on my birthday.
Less than a year after my mom died, my dad married his mistress. After that, I was locked in dark rooms, beaten, punished by not being allowed to eat. It wasn't until I fainted at school that my grandmother found out what my life was like and fought in court to take me in.
She actually dared to bring that up.
Before I could react, the door opened.
Albert walked in.
Wendy screamed, covering her hand and falling to the ground, tears in her eyes: "Albert, I was just handing Octavia water and she poured it all over my hand..."
Her hand was bright red.
Albert rushed over to help her up, then turned to glare at me: "Octavia!"
"I didn't touch her."
"Enough!" He shoved me hard.
I'd just had surgery and couldn't keep my balance. My back hit the door handle, and the pain made everything go black.
Wendy cried in his arms: "If Octavia doesn't like me, I'll just leave. Why did she have to burn me..."
"Octavia, apologize to her."
"Why should I apologize for something I didn't do?" I looked at him. "There are cameras in the office. Do you dare to check them?"
He paused.
Then said, "Wendy's a celebrity. Why would she deliberately burn herself to frame you?"
I laughed.
It wasn't that he didn't know she was lying. He just didn't care.
Didn't care about the truth, didn't care about me.
"Since you burned her right hand," he said, "you'll pay with yours."
He called his assistant: "Break her right hand."
I struggled desperately: "Albert! You wouldn't dare!"
"You dared to hurt Wendy, why wouldn't I dare?"
The assistant hesitated: "Mr. Learmond, Mrs. Learmond just had surgery..."
"Say one more word and you're fired."
I was dragged out.
The moment my bone shattered, I heard myself screaming.
Not from the pain.
But remembering years ago, when my hands were covered in chilblains, he was so heartbroken. He searched every hospital, applied medicine to my hands himself every day.
He'd kissed my fingers and said, "Octavia, from now on you're with me. I'll never let you get hurt again."
Now he personally had someone break my right hand.
Just because she told one lie.
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