Once Vincent assigned the three bodyguards, the hospital became much quieter. Hazel could finally rest and focus on recovering. She thought she could safely spend the next few days healing. But she hadn’t counted on Milena demanding her to be her personal cook.
“Everyone knows Hazel’s an amazing cook. I don’t want the chef’s food—I only want the meals she makes herself!”
Vincent couldn’t argue with her and nodded lovingly. “Fine. Let Hazel cook for you, then.”
Hazel arrived at the VIP ward just in time to see the scene. Her chest tightened.
Three years ago, Vincent had nearly died from a sudden stomach attack. Back then, Hazel swore she’d learn how to cook, so she could take care of the man she loved. She had always been smart, but cooking was the one thing she had no talent for. She had cut herself so many times that her fingers were covered in tiny scars. But she persisted. And eventually, she succeeded.
Vincent moved in tears, holding her in his arms and whispering, “From now on, you’ll only ever cook for me.”
Now, that same man had just handed her over like a servant, all because another woman pouted.
Hazel came to her senses and forced herself to calm down. Her sister was still in surgery; she had to endure it.
“What would you like me to make?” she asked.
Milena named a dish casually, then watched Hazel leave with a sneer. She had long since plotted revenge for the earlier confrontation.
Half an hour later, a bowl of lamb soup sat in front of Milena. After a few sips, she began convulsing. Her skin flushed violently.
“Vincent… help me!”
By the time Vincent rushed in, Milena was on the floor, foaming at the mouth, barely breathing.
She refused to let the doctors operate until he arrived. “Vincent,” she gasped, clutching his sleeve weakly, “Hazel knows I’m allergic to lamb. She did it on purpose… you have to—”
Before she could finish her words, Milena collapsed.
Vincent’s face twisted with fury. His fist slammed into the wall beside Hazel’s head.
“Why, Hazel?” he shouted. “Why can’t you stop? I told you—I only see her as a sister! Why are you still trying to hurt her?”
Hazel’s eyes were ice. “She asked for the dish herself. She planned this. If you don’t believe me, you can—”
Her words cut off as Vincent’s hand cracked across her face.
He looked at her with disgust, as though she’d committed an unforgivable sin. “Go kneel in the hallway and atone for your scene,” he ordered coldly. “You don’t get up until Milena wakes.”
Hearing this, Hazel almost lost her balance. So many patients and staff were walking past—he wanted her to kneel in front of everyone?
Before she could resist, Vincent’s bodyguards forced her to the cold floor. A nurse whispered and pointed.
“Isn’t that Mr. Clarke’s wife? I heard she’s cruel and jealous — always picking on Milena, his little sister.”
“Is she mentally ill? Anyone can see how much Mr. Clarke loves his sister. She must be crazy to keep pushing her.”
Hazel lowered her head as her tears hit the floor. Even strangers could see it — Vincent really doted on Milena. She shouldn’t have been standing in the way.
She didn’t know how long she’d been kneeling when Vincent suddenly came running toward her.
“Get up!” he barked in a panic tone. “Milena needs blood. Come with me!”
Still dazed, Hazel was dragged into the blood extraction room.
The sight of the thick needles made her stomach drop. Her lips turned pale with fear. “No. I can’t donate. Find someone else.”
She had just undergone an abortion and had lost so much blood. Donating blood to Milena now would be too much for her body
But Vincent ignored her protests, thinking she was just pretending. He commanded the doctors to proceed, using the largest possible needle.
“Milena’s very weak. Draw triple the amount for backup,” he said coldly.
By the time it was over, she lost all strength and collapsed in the blood draw room like a rag. Her arms were covered in bruises.
No one came to help her.
She didn’t know how long she sat there before she finally gathered enough strength to stand. Holding onto the wall for balance, she stumbled step by step back to her ward.
But when she pushed open the door, her heart froze. Her father was gone. Every single thing in the room had been thrown to the floor.
