Chapter 3

A violent churn erupted in her stomach, and a rush of metallic-sweet liquid surged uncontrollably up her throat.

Blood burst from her mouth. Diana's vision spun, the room tilting and buckling as the world shuddered in front of her, until everything collapsed into pure, absolute black.

When she came to again, dusk was pooling beyond the window.

The sharp sting of antiseptic flooded her nose, a blunt reminder of where she was.

Edward sat at the side of her bed, his face dark, the air around him so heavy it felt dangerous.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

His voice was tight with anger, and beneath it, something rawer—helpless, aching concern.

"A massive GI bleed. If they'd gotten you here half an hour later, you'd be headed straight to the morgue."

Diana turned her eyes slowly, staring at the white ceiling with a blank, unfocused gaze.

She felt like she'd already died, and only her body hadn't gotten the message.

Edward watched her, that hollow, checked-out look, and his chest clogged with something he couldn't swallow down.

He slapped a fresh diagnostic report onto the bedside table.

"Read it. The cancer's spreading a lot faster than we expected."

"Diana, I'm warning you—if you keep doing this to yourself, forget three months. You won't even make it one."

One month.

Diana's mouth twitched into a smile that didn't belong on anyone's face.

Why should she hold on?

Her mother was hanging by a thread. Her baby had already turned to blood and loss. The man she'd loved for years had shoved her whole family straight into hell with his own hands.

Being alive was just a longer execution.

Silent, Diana lifted her hand and yanked the IV needle out of the back of it. Blood welled immediately, soaking through the white tape.

"What the hell are you doing?" Edward lunged, pressing down on her hand, his voice pitching sharp.

Diana acted like she couldn't feel a thing. Her eyes stayed empty as they fixed on him.

"Edward, it's useless."

"Let me go."

Her voice was light, drifting, stripped of everything but dead quiet.

That dead quiet closed around Edward's heart like a fist. His eyes went red, and for the first time, he lost control and shouted at her.

"Go? Where are you gonna go—back to The Russell Family? Or go running to Nicholas?"

"Diana, wake up. That man isn't worth it."

"For someone who ground you into the dirt, you're ready to throw your life away? Do you even remember who you used to be? You were the top talent in your program. You had a future. You had options."

Diana shook her head, slow and final. "There is no future."

The city lit up as evening took hold, headlights streaming through packed traffic.

Diana walked without a destination. Every step sent pain lancing through her, like her body and her heart were both leaking out, drop by drop.

Before she realized it, she'd stopped in front of a coffee shop called First Sip Cafe.

The neon sign flickered softly, almost gentle.

Her first date with Nicholas had been here.

Back then, he hadn't talked much, but when he looked at her, there'd been a kind of warmth that seemed meant for her alone.

Turns out, it had all been her mistake.

A cruel joke.

She pushed open the glass door and stepped inside, her body's memory guiding her to the window seat they'd once shared, as if she'd done it a thousand times.

Outside, the night was hazy and bright with city glow.

Inside, in a booth not far away, Nicholas had his head bent as he used a small silver spoon, patiently feeding strawberry cake to a little boy.

In the warm, amber light, the lines of his profile looked unusually soft, lit with a tenderness he'd never shown her.

Lindsey sat beside them, her eyes full of love as she watched father and son, her face relaxed into a smile that spoke of safety and certainty.

A family of three, so warm it felt wrong to interrupt.

The image was beautiful.

And it was vicious.

It crushed the last thin shred of Diana's nostalgia into powder.

She thought of her baby, the one she didn't even have an ultrasound photo of.

She thought of her mother in the ICU, her life forcibly stolen away piece by piece.

The hatred—towering and tidal—collided with bone-deep despair, and together they blew through the final line of her self-control.

Diana stood and walked straight toward their table. "Nicholas!"

Nicholas's hand stilled mid-spoonful. His brows pulled tight at once.

"What are you doing here?" His voice was all impatience, and whatever softness had lingered in his eyes vanished, leaving only cold disgust.

"I'm asking you." Diana's teeth clenched hard enough to hurt. "My mom's heart—did you take it?"

Nicholas paused for a fraction of a second. Then his mouth curved into a cruel, careless half-smile. "So what if I did?"

He admitted it.

Just like that. Like it was nothing. Like it was his right.

Diana swayed, her body pitching as if the floor had shifted under her.

"Why?" Her voice shook until it barely held together. "With your connections, finding a matching donor heart wouldn't have been hard. Why did it have to be my mom's? That was her only chance to live."

"Because." Nicholas set the spoon down and looked up at her, his gaze holding not even a trace of warmth.

"I wanted her to die."

"And I wanted to watch you suffer."

Lindsey sensed the tension and immediately stood, putting on a soft, generous expression.

In a gentle voice, she tried to smooth it over. "Nicholas, don't say it like that. Diana's just panicking. It's her mom."

Then she turned to Diana, apology arranged neatly on her face.

"Diana, please don't blame Nicholas. He did it for our son, Holden. Holden has a heart condition too, and the doctor said it's urgent. We didn't have a choice."

Neither Diana nor Nicholas answered her. Their eyes, filled with hatred, stayed locked on each other.

Lindsey looked slightly awkward, but she recovered fast, then spoke to Nicholas with practiced concern. "Why don't you take Holden out to the car and wait for me? It's chilly in here. Don't let him catch cold. I'll talk to Diana for a minute."

Nicholas stared at Diana for a long moment. Then he lifted Holden into his arms and left without a word.

In the suddenly too-large space, only the two women remained, facing each other in silence.

The second Nicholas was gone, the warmth drained from Lindsey's face.

What replaced it was undisguised contempt—sharp, poisonous.

"Diana, you played Mrs. Kennedy for two years. Did you really start thinking you were somebody?"

Diana ignored the provocation and repeated what she'd been saying, her voice iced over. "You could've found another heart."

Lindsey smiled, pleased with herself, and cruel enough not to bother hiding it.

"Yeah." She leaned in on purpose, lowering her voice by Diana's ear. "You know what? There was actually a better match back then—flown in on an emergency shipment from overseas. More than good enough for Holden."

She watched Diana's face bleach, inch by inch, and she savored it.

"But Nicholas didn't even think twice. He refused it."

"Because he didn't want your mom to live, he wanted to hurt you like this. He wanted to punish you for being greedy."

"Don't think that just because you were his wife in name only for two years, you get to replace me." Lindsey's voice sharpened, the malice finally spilling over. "Let me tell you something—this is what happens when you don't know your place. You, and your whole family, you're all going to die."

A sharp slap cracked through the café's fragile quiet.

Diana had used the last of her strength, her palm whipping across Lindsey's face.

Lindsey clapped a hand over her cheek as it reddened and swelled, her eyes blown wide with disbelief.

"You hit me?"

Diana's hand shook violently, but in her eyes there was a kind of resolve she'd never had before, fierce and unbending.

That was when a cold figure charged back toward them, fury rolling off him in waves.

Nicholas had returned. His gaze pinned itself to Diana's raised hand, and his eyes turned so dark it felt like they could tear her apart. The rage in his expression was savage, like he wanted to rip someone open with it.