Chapter 8

Ethan Sinclair dragged his battered body back to the villa. The heavy door slammed shut behind him with a dull thud.

He locked himself in his room for three whole days.

His suitcase lay open on the floor. He mechanically stuffed clothes inside, folding each piece with meticulous precision—as if that could somehow mend his shattered heart.

On the fourth morning, he called the real estate agent.

"I need to sell this villa. As soon as possible."

The agent on the other end hesitated. "Mr. Sinclair, are you sure? The market isn’t great right now—"

"Sell it at the lowest price," he interrupted, his voice hoarse.

His parents had settled in Europe years ago. This villa was the only thing they’d left him. But now, he just wanted to escape this place—this prison of memories.

The transfer process was swift. By evening, he walked out of the agency with a thin contract in hand. The setting sun stretched his shadow long behind him.

The villa district had a blackout. Ethan fumbled through the dark path when suddenly, blinding headlights pierced the night.

The roar of an engine shattered the silence.

He instinctively raised a hand to shield his eyes—only to see the black car accelerating straight toward him.

"Bang—"

Agony exploded through his body. He was flung like a ragdoll, crashing onto the cold concrete.

Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. Gritting his teeth, he lifted his head—and saw the twisted face behind the wheel.

Sophia Reynolds.

Lucas Whitmore’s ex-girlfriend.

Ethan wanted to laugh, but coughed up blood instead. So this was karma?

As his vision blurred, he heard screeching brakes. Someone rushed to his side. The familiar scent of perfume filled his nose.

Victoria Montgomery.

He strained to see her face—but only caught the sight of her walking away.

When he woke again, harsh white light made him wince. The sterile smell told him he was in a hospital.

"The patient has multiple fractures and internal bleeding. He needs immediate surgery!"

"No." Victoria’s voice was ice. "Draw his blood first. Lucas needs a transfusion."

The doctor stared at her in shock. "This patient has lost too much blood. Any more could be fatal!"

"I’ll sign the waiver," she said without hesitation. "Lucas can’t wait."

The moment the needle pierced his vein, Ethan jolted fully awake. His blood flowed through the transparent tube, drop by drop.

So this was what a broken heart felt like.

"How tragic..." a nurse whispered. "A wife draining her husband’s blood for another man..."

A single tear slid down silently.

He closed his eyes and listened to the sound of his life slipping away.

If he could do it all over again, he’d rather have never met the girl named Victoria Montgomery.