My Husband Adopted a Blood Donor, Their Lusts Matched

It all started when I threw away a strawberry cake while cleaning the fridge. That cake belonged to Charlee Zender—the orphan young woman Cortey McEnroe, my husband, had adopted.

Because of it, he deliberately hid her away at the very moment my mother was in a car accident and desperately needed a blood transfusion.

No matter how many times I knelt to beg him, he remained indifferent.

In the end, Mom wasn’t saved in time. She died.

I was drowning in grief. And yet, on my way to collect her death certificate, I caught sight of Charlee and her supposedly foster father entangled together in the stairwell.

Her cheeks were flushed pink as she leaned against his chest, her voice sweet.

“Daddy, I heard Grandma's car accident was really serious today. We disappeared on purpose like this... It won’t cause any trouble, will it?”

“I arranged the very best doctors for her,” Cortey reassured her. “She won’t die.”

He pinched her nose to comfort her—something he used to do only to me.

“If anyone’s to blame, it’s Sevlene for being petty enough to throw out your favorite cake. Consider this her punishment. No matter what, you’re my daughter. Of course, I’ll protect you.”

But he forgot—high-fat food wasn’t allowed before a blood transfusion.

He also forgot—the only reason he adopted that young woman in the first place was so his sick mother-in-law could have regular blood transfusions.

After I discovered their affair, the blood in my body seemed to freeze. My nails dug deep into my palms.

Since his heart had already gone astray, I decided to give them what they wanted.

But not before making them pay for my mother’s death!

…

Sevlene’s POV

“Mom, Cortey is in love with someone else now. Please help me persuade him to divorce.”

I stood at the end of the hallway, my throat hoarse.

“Weren’t you the one insisting your love was so true you couldn’t let go?”

On the other end of the call came a cold and disdainful laugh.

“You and my son were never from the same world. You should’ve realized that five years ago. But no—you had to wait until your mother died before regretting it. Serves you right.

“I’ll send someone with the divorce papers. Just sign them. Once the one-month cooling-off period is over, don’t ever appear in front of my son again.”

Ten minutes later, the divorce agreement was in my hands.

The moment I signed my name, it felt like a crushing weight had finally lifted off my shoulders.

When I returned to the ward, all the machines had been removed from my mother’s bedside. She lay there quietly, as though she were only asleep.

I held her wrinkled hand. My tears fell onto the bedsheet.

“Mom… I’m sorry. I failed you.”

Five years ago, Cortey was the famously aloof heir of the McEnroes, almost thirty and never once entangled with women. His indifference made his family worried sick.

No one expected that he would fall head over heels for me—a girl born in the slums, working in a bar just to survive—and pursue me with relentless fervor.

To make sure I ate breakfast on time, a man whose fingers had never touched household chores made me breakfast every single morning without fail.

When a drunk customer once made a dirty joke at me, Cortey beat him straight into the hospital and erased his entire family’s presence from the city.

To protect me, he married me against his family’s objections and declared it to the entire world.

Then, a year ago, my mother was diagnosed with a rare illness that required ongoing blood transfusions.

Cortey scoured all his connections until he found someone with the same rare Rh-negative blood type—Charlee.

She was an orphan, penniless, so Cortey adopted her with a ten-million-dollar exchange, ensuring a steady supply of blood for my mother.

At first, aside from necessary conversations during transfusions, Cortey always treated her like she was invisible.

But at some point, things began to change.

He started going into her room every night to tuck her in, kissing her forehead gently like a doting father.

When she was bullied at school, he abandoned multimillion-dollar deals just to defend her.

He remembered her birthday but forgot our wedding anniversary.

I loved him too much, so I refused to admit our marriage was crumbling.

But my mother’s death forced me to face the truth.

Cortey had fallen in love—with his so-called daughter.

For seven whole days, he never once visited my mother and never even called.

I had her cremated all alone. And then, I held the funeral by myself.

The guests, seeing me alone, couldn’t help but wonder where my husband was—how could he not be by my side at such an important moment?

All I could do was awkwardly say he was busy.

Well, he was busy traveling everywhere with Charlee.

She updated her Facebook every day.

He took her to the restaurant where we had our first date.

He watched my favorite romance movie—with her.

He even brought her to see the northern lights I had always dreamed of but never managed to witness.

Just ten minutes ago, she posted again.

Her right hand was wrapped thickly in gauze, held carefully in a familiar large hand.

I instantly recognized it as Cortey’s. On his wrist gleamed the very watch I had given him on our wedding day.

The post came with a caption.

[Daddy says my blood is precious. Just one needle prick and he’s wrapping my hand so tightly.]

Cortey left a comment.

[Your blood is your grandma’s lifesaving medicine. Of course, I have to protect it.]

Oh, look, who still remembered my mother.

But he didn’t know—Mom had already been dead for seven days.

I glanced at the urn in my arms, and then I typed a cold reply.

[My mom has no granddaughter like her, and she doesn’t need her blood anymore.]

Almost instantly, my phone rang. It was Cortey.

“What nonsense are you spouting in Charlee’s post? So she missed one transfusion—was it really worth making a scene? If you hadn’t thrown away her cake, would I have treated you like this?

“Your mother’s life depends on her. And don’t forget, Charlee’s my daughter. You should respect her. She’s not just some blood bank you can control at will.”

A bitter laugh escaped me.

“Your daughter? That’s funny. I’ve never seen a father kiss his daughter the way you do.”

The next second, I hung up without another word.

What I didn’t expect was to see him at home when I returned.

Charlee sat beside him, her cheeks flushed, her complexion healthier than a week ago.

When Cortey saw the urn in my hands, his brows knitted together.

“What’s that?”

“My mother’s ashes,” I answered flatly.

The moment those words came out, the air froze.

At once, Charlee burst into tears, choking out, “Mommy, I know you’re mad at me, but skipping just one transfusion wouldn’t have killed Grandma. You didn’t need to scare me with an urn!

“I was wrong, I won’t throw tantrums or hide again. Please don’t be mad at me anymore. Don’t scare me with things like this again…”

I frowned. “Don’t call me Mommy. It makes me sick.”

Cortey looked stunned at first until he glared and scolded me.

“Sevlene, have you lost your mind? To scare Charlee, you’d even curse your own mother? How could I never have seen how vicious you truly are?”

Suddenly, a wave of exhaustion hit me. I couldn’t even be bothered to explain. Holding the urn, I made my way upstairs.

But Charlee’s pitiful voice rang out behind me.

“Daddy, Mrs. McEnroe knew today was the anniversary of my adoption, yet she deliberately brought an urn into the house. Isn’t that basically a curse, wishing me a life of bad luck?

“I’ve always known she doesn’t like me, Daddy. After all, I was only brought here to be a blood bank. It’s my fault. I don’t deserve to keep my dignity. I’ll go right now and give Grandma my blood—every last drop of it if that’s what it takes.”

Tears streamed down her face as she made to rush out.

Cortey yanked her back and held her tightly. His voice shook with urgency.

“You’re not a blood bank, Charlee. You’re my precious daughter. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

The next thing I knew, he stormed toward me, ripped the urn from my arms, and hurled it into the trash outside.

“Sevlene, stop pushing things too far. Charlee is pure and kind. She can’t withstand your torment.”

The urn… My mother’s urn shattered, her ashes scattering across the ground.

My breath caught. My vision burned red as I dropped to my knees, digging through the filth to gather what was left of my mother.

Cortey froze for a moment, surprise flickering in his eyes. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but his so-called daughter suddenly fainted.

Panic surged across his face. He scooped her into his arms and shot me a look of threat.

“Look at what you’ve done. You frightened her to the point of collapse. If something happens to her, who’s going to donate blood for your mother?”

With that, he carried her bridal-style and left without looking back.

Meanwhile, I cradled the last remains of my mother in trembling hands. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Cortey’s car drive away.

‘Cortey!’ I screamed inside my head. ‘My mom no longer needs blood because… because she’s already gone!’