Rylee’s POV
Hearing their words, I suddenly laughed.
“Tough? Madeline is your daughter. Am I not? If I refuse, what exactly are you going to do to me?”
The moment the words left my mouth, Dad flew into a rage and raised his hand, slapping me hard across the face.
My head rang violently from the blow. I couldn’t even keep my footing, stumbling backward as my forehead slammed straight into the tiled corner of the wall.
Pain exploded instantly. Warm blood streamed down along my brow bone, a glaring, shocking red.
A weightless sensation overtook me. Just as I thought I was about to collapse onto the cold floor…
I saw Vlad push the door open and instinctively run toward me, catching me steadily in his arms.
I lifted my head in a daze and caught a fleeting trace of pain flashing through his eyes. But it disappeared in an instant, forcibly suppressed.
Frowning, he snapped, “Rylee, can you stop being so selfish? If you hadn’t hurt Maddie, how could her old illness relapse? You must donate blood today.”
His words were like a dull blade, sawing back and forth across my already shattered heart.
Before I could say anything, a nurse rushed out of the ward in panic.
“Sir, Miss Madeline has lost consciousness!”
Vlad’s body jolted. Without a second thought, he let go of me and charged into the room.
I was thrown to the ground, my back slamming hard against the marble floor, pain ripping the breath from my lungs.
He roared at the doctor, “Draw her blood immediately! If anything goes wrong, I’ll take responsibility. But if anything happens to Maddie, I’ll make sure you regret it!”
Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to stand. Blood blurred my vision.
Watching his retreating figure, I suddenly laughed out loud—laughing so hard tears streamed down my face.
The next second, several nurses rushed over and pinned me down on the bed without explanation.
The cold needle quickly pierced my arm.
Bag after bag of bright red blood was drawn out. I could clearly feel my strength draining away with it.
Darkness began to creep into my vision. My face and body turned deathly pale.
Through the transparent glass, I could see Vlad holding Madeline in his arms, calling her name over and over again.
My parents stood by her bedside, their eyes filled with anguish as they prayed.
No one turned back to look at me. No one asked if I was in pain. No one cared whether I was about to collapse.
I didn’t know how much time passed before it finally stopped.
I struggled to sit up; every movement felt like stepping on the edge of a blade.
Slowly, I walked out of the blood-draw room and pulled a document I had long prepared from my bag, blocking my parents as they were about to send Madeline into the operating room.
They glared at me, about to explode with curses, when I handed the agreement over.
Dad flipped through a few pages, his expression growing darker by the second.
I crossed my arms, my voice ice-cold.
“Sign it. I want five hundred million.”
He slammed the agreement onto the floor.
“Have you lost your mind?” he snapped. “Rylee, you bloodsucking leech, you ungrateful wretch! We raised you all these years, and now, you want five hundred million just because you give your sister some blood?”
I let out a cold laugh and crouched down to pick up the agreement.
“Extortion? Five hundred million to buy your precious daughter’s life. Isn’t that worth it?” I shot back.
“Pay me,” I demanded, “and maybe I’ll willingly give blood. Don’t pay me, and the blood you forcibly drew just now already constitutes intentional harm. Does that count as a crime?”
Dad’s face turned ashen. He raised his hand again, about to strike me again.
I sidestepped to avoid it, holding the contract and turning to leave.
“Fine if you don’t sign. Then let your precious daughter fend for herself from now on.”
I hadn’t taken more than a few steps when Mom hurriedly called out behind me.
“Hold on!”
She shot Dad a look and lowered her voice.
“Maddie still needs her blood. We can’t let her go. Give it to her. It doesn’t matter. In the end, it’ll all come back to us anyway.”
Dad clenched his teeth, fury blazing in his eyes. He strode forward, snatched the agreement from my hand, signed his name, and flung it straight at my face.
The sharp edge of the paper sliced my cheek, but I felt no pain at all.
Enduring the agony and dizziness, I didn’t spare them another glance as I walked toward the elevator.
I raised my hand and wiped the blood from my face. My eyes burned with hatred.
Everything they did—I would remember it all.
And I would make them pay the price.
