Poisoning His Mistress With My Marrow

My husband didnt ask for my permission. He just took ita vial of my blood, stolen while I slept, to see if I was a match for his One Who Got Away.

That night, he came home practically vibrating with a manic sort of joy. He pulled me into a crushing hug, his breath smelling of expensive scotch and desperation. "Elena, its a miracle. Youre a perfect match. You can save Serena. You can give her the bone marrow she needs."

I looked into Miless eyes, searching for a flicker of the man I thought Id married three years ago. All I saw was a stranger obsessed with a ghost from his past. I placed a hand on my stomach and whispered, "Miles, Im pregnant."

His expression didn't even soften. "We can have another baby later," he said, his voice dropping into that smooth, manipulative register he used when he wanted a deal closed. "But if Serena misses this window, shes gone. Shell never recover."

He gripped my shoulders, his fingers digging in. "Elena, if you ever truly loved me, dont make me live the rest of my life with this regret. Dont let her die."

I looked at him for a long beat, the silence stretching between us like a physical chasm. Finally, I nodded. "Okay," I said. "I'll do it."

"Have you lost your mind? Youre seven months along, Elena. Youre talking about terminating a third-trimester pregnancy for a transplant?"

Dr. Joanna Miller slammed her water glass onto the mahogany desk, the sharp crack echoing through the sterile private clinic. Joanna had been my mothers best friend for decades; shed seen me through every scraped knee and every heartbreak. Now, she looked at me with a mixture of terror and fury.

"This isn't just irresponsible to the baby," she hissed, her eyes bright with tears. "Its a death wish for you. Youve always had a delicate system. An induction this late? Youre looking at permanent infertility, or worse. Hemorrhage, sepsisthe risks are astronomical."

I sat on the edge of the examination table, my fingers tracing the hem of my maternity top. I felt hollow, as if the soul had already left the room. "I dont want the baby anymore, Joanna. Just... please. Help me end it."

Joanna slumped into her chair, her face aging a decade in seconds. She didn't say another word; she just picked up the phone and dialed my mother.

A moment later, the door swung open. Miles marched in, checking his Rolex with an air of clinical impatience. "Are we done yet? How long does a simple procedure take? Serenas vitals are dipping. She needs that marrow yesterday."

Joannas head snapped up. She took in Miless expensive suit and his callous expression, and the pieces clicked together. "Elena, tell me you aren't doing this for her," she whispered. "Tell me you aren't sacrificing your child for his mistress."

I kept my head down, staring at my shoes.

Miles let out an exasperated sigh. "Are you going to perform the surgery or not, Doctor? If youre too emotional for the job, stop wasting our time. There are plenty of other clinics in the city."

"I will not be a party to this butchery," Joanna said, her voice trembling with cold rage.

"Fine. Expect a formal complaint for patient abandonment," Miles snapped. He turned on his heel and stormed out.

As the door swung, I saw the faces in the waiting room. They had heard the shouting. I saw the way they looked at Milespure, unadulterated disgust. Then they looked at me, and their pity felt like acid on my skin. One older woman even stepped forward as Miles disappeared down the hall.

"Honey," she whispered, leaning into the room. "Don't do this. That man... he isn't worth the dirt on your boots."

"Is it true?" another woman chimed in from the hallway. "You're giving up your child for his ex? Thats not love, sweetie. Thats... well, its pathetic."

I swallowed hard, my voice a mere ghost. "You don't understand him. Hes just... stressed."

Joanna stood up and slammed the door shut, cutting off the whispers. She grabbed my shoulders, checking my arms, my neck, her eyes searching for bruises. "Elena, look at me. Is he hurting you? Is he blackmailing you? I will call the police right now."

I shook my head, a small, jagged smile playing on my lips. "I just want him to be happy, Joanna. If hes happy, nothing else matters."

Before I could finish the lie, a sharp, stinging pain erupted across my shoulders.

I spun around. My mother, Katherine, was standing there in her wheelchair, her face a mask of grief and fury. She was gripping her cane, her knuckles white. She swung it again, hitting my arm with a desperate, clumsy force.

"Ill kill you myself!" she screamed, her voice breaking. "Ill kill you before I let you be this foolish! You disgraceful, spineless girl!"

I stood there and took it. I didn't move. I didn't flinch.

I was an only child. Three years ago, my parents were involved in a horrific car accident while scouting a new location for our familys textile empire. My mother lost the use of her legs. My father ended up in the ICU, clinging to life by a thread.

On his deathbed, Miles had proposed to me. He had knelt by the beeping monitors and sworn to my father that he would take my name, protect our legacy, and care for my mother until her last breath. My father, moved to tears, changed his will. The company went to Miles and me. My mother was left with the real estate, but she didn't care. She just wanted me to be loved. She wanted a grandchild to fill the silence of the house my father left behind.

And today, I was destroying everything she lived for.

"Get on your knees," my mother sobbed.

I sank to the floor.

She cupped my face with her trembling hands, her tears falling onto my cheeks. "Why, Elena? If he has something on you, tell me. Ill give him everything. Ill give him every house, every cent, just tell me the truth. Don't do this."

"Mom," I whispered, my heart feeling like it was being squeezed by hot pliers. "I just love him. Id do anything for him."

Her hand came down across my facea sharp, ringing slap.

Miles burst back into the room then, grabbing my arm and yanking me up. He stepped between us, shielding me from my mother. "Katherine, enough! Youll bruise the donor site. She has a procedure to get to."

My mother looked like she was having a heart attack. Her finger shook as she pointed at him. "You think we don't know? Everyone knows youve been sneaking around with Serena Vance for months. But I never thought you were a monster, Miles. This is your child. Your son."

Miless face darkened, turning into a mask of cold arrogance. "Katherine, Serena and I are friends. If you keep spreading these sordid rumors, youre only embarrassing your daughter. Not me."

He looked at me then, a flicker of triumph in his eyes. He knew he had me. He had always known. I was the rich girl who had chased him, the "trophy husband" from the wrong side of the tracks. I had spent our entire marriage trying to prove I wasn't looking down on him, and in doing so, Id given him the whip to lash me with.

"Elena," my mother begged, grabbing my hand. "Leave him. Divorce him. Have this baby. He can have the Lynn name, he can be our legacy. Just don't do this."

I pulled my hand away slowly. "Im an adult, Mom. Let me make my own choices. If you keep pushing me... Ill have to cut you out of my life."

The color drained from her face. She looked like she had aged twenty years in a heartbeat.

Just then, my mother-in-law arrived. She didn't even look at me; she just grabbed the handles of my mothers wheelchair and started pushing her toward the exit. "Oh, hush now, Katherine. They can have another one. A baby is just a baby. I had four miscarriages and three abortions trying to get a boy before Miles came along. Its no big deal."

"Stop! Let go of me!" my mother screamed.

In her desperation, she tried to hurl herself out of the moving wheelchair. She hit the floor hard, her cane skittering across the linoleum. Her designer handbag fell open, and out tumbled a pair of tiny, hand-knitted baby booties and a small, quilted blanket.

She had spent months on them. She told me that a baby who wears shoes knitted by their grandmother will always find their way home...

Now, they were just trash on a hospital floor.

My mother crawled toward me, holding up one of the tiny blue booties. "Elena, please. Look at these. Do you really have the heart?"

I bit my lip until I tasted blood and turned away. I looked at Joanna. "Do it, Joanna. I won't go to another doctor. I want you to do it."

I grabbed the consent forms and scrawled my signature before anyone could stop me.

"Elena..." my mother gave one last, haunting cry before she fainted.

Joanna sighed, a sound of pure defeat. She knew if she didn't do it, Miles would take me to some back-alley clinic where Id likely bleed out.

I lay on the cold operating table, the induction medication coursing through my veins. The pain was unlike anything Id ever imaginedas if my body was being physically ripped in half by a dull blade. I drifted in and out of consciousness, sweat stinging my eyes.

Then, a sudden, sickening lightness. Something was gone.

I heard the nurse whisper, her voice thick with pity. "It was a boy. Perfect little thing. What a waste..."

A single tear slid into my ear.

After the procedure, I was a ghost. I was weak, hollowed out, but Miles didn't care. He had me transferred to another hospital within hours.

Serena was there. Waiting for my marrow.

I didn't see Miles for those three days. I didn't see Serena. My mother sat by my bed in her wheelchair, her eyes red and swollen. She didn't tell me what was happening, but I heard the nurses gossiping in the hall.

Miles had apparently been screaming at the surgeons to operate the moment I arrived. But the doctors refused. They told him I was too weak, that I might die on the table if they harvested the marrow now. He had spent those three days in Serenas room, holding her hand, whispered sweet nothings while I recovered enough to be harvested.

I stared at the ceiling, feeling nothing. No anger. No sadness. Just a cold, dead vacuum where my heart used to be.

My mother went to get some soup, leaving the room silent. I closed my eyes, trying to disappear.

"Elena? Hey, big sister. We came to say thanks."

I opened my eyes. Miles and Serena were standing there, their fingers interlaced.

Serena was glowing. She was wearing full makeup and a silk robe that had clearly been tailored to look like a hospital gownflirty, delicate, seductive. She didn't look like someone on the brink of death. She looked like she was at a spa.

Compared to her, I was a wreckpale, hair matted with sweat, smelling of antiseptic and grief.

Miles didn't even look at me. His eyes were glued to Serena, as if she were the only source of light in the world. He didn't notice the door was open, or the freezing draft from the hallway that made me shiver under the thin sheets.

"Get out," a voice cracked like a whip.

My mother was back. She used her cane to shove Miles away from the bed, and then she threw the container of hot soup right at Serena.

Serena shrieked, ducking behind Miles. The soup splashed harmlessly on the floor, but she acted as if shed been doused in acid, clinging to Miless chest.

"Ive tolerated your disrespect because youre family," Miles growled at my mother, his eyes flashing with a dangerous light. "But if you touch Serena again, I don't care how old you are. Ill make you regret it."

My mother began to sob, the sound raw and broken.

Then, a tall, imposing man stepped into the room. He moved with a quiet authority that instantly changed the air. He stepped next to my mother, placing a steady hand on her shoulder.

"Is there a problem here, Miles?" he asked. "Are you really threatening a woman in a wheelchair?"

It was Arthur Bennett. My fathers oldest friend, the COO of our company, and a man who had known me since I was in diapers. He set a bag of groceries on my nightstand, his eyes softening as he looked at my pale face. He walked over and firmly shut the door.

Miles cleared his throat, clearly intimidated but trying to hide it. "Serena has something to say to Elena."

Serena reached into her designer bag and pulled out a stack of legal documents. She handed them to me with a shy, faux-innocent smile. "Elena, please don't take this the wrong way. But Ive read stories online... about donors who give once and then refuse to help if theres a relapse. For my peace of mind, could you sign this? Its just an agreement that if I need another transplant in a few years, youll be there for me."

My mother began to cough violently, her face turning purple with rage. Arthur looked like he wanted to throw Miles out the window.

I looked at the papers, then at Miles. I smileda small, chilling thing. "Of course. Ill sign. Im happy to help."

Arthur froze. My mother looked at me with pure despair. "I should have died with your father," she whispered. "I shouldn't have lived to see this."

My chest tightened, but I didn't stop. I signed my name in a firm, clear hand: Elena Lynn.

Miless face lit up with greedy satisfaction. He pulled out another folder. "Since youre going to be recovering for a while, Elena, you won't have the energy for the company. Ive prepared some documents to give me full power of attorney over your shares. Itll make things easier."

Arthur slammed his hand down on the papers. "Elena, don't. I came here to tell youthis boy has been draining the company accounts for months. Hes stripping the assets, moving them into shell companies. If you sign this, the Lynn legacy is gone. Hes gutting us."

I looked at Arthur, my expression serene. "Arthur, youre being paranoid. Miles loves me. Hes my husband. Why would he hurt me? It doesn't matter whose name is on the paperwork, right?"

I signed the second set of papers.

Arthur slumped into a chair, a mountain of a man reduced to tears. "Oh, Edward... Im so sorry. I couldn't save your home."

The moment the ink was dry, Miles grabbed the folders and headed for the door. In the hallway, I heard him barking at a passing doctor. "Start the harvest! Now!"

"But Mr. Scott, her vitals are still"

"I said now! If she dies, she dies. Just get the marrow!"

I went under the knife in a haze of betrayal.

I didn't see Miles again after the surgery. Two weeks later, while my mother was finalizing my discharge papers, I slipped out of the hospital and took a cab to our house.

When I walked through the front door, I stopped.

Miles was on the velvet sofa, Serena curled up in his lap. They were laughing at a comedy special on TV.

Miles looked up, his brow furrowing as if I were a telemarketer who had interrupted his dinner. "What are you doing here?"

I smiled. "I missed you."

He rolled his eyes. "You couldn't have called? Youre ruining the mood."

Serena ran a hand down Miless arm. "Oh, don't be grumpy, babe. Its fine that Elenas back. Ive actually been craving her signature seafood chowder."

Miles glanced at me. "Well? You heard her. Go on."

I was ushered into the kitchen like a servant to cook for them. I listened to their laughter echoing from the living room.

That night, Miles took Serena into our master bedroom. I lay in the guest room, staring at the wall, listening to the sounds of their intimacy through the thin drywall. They weren't even trying to be quiet.

Eventually, I got up, threw on a robe, and knocked on their door.

Miles ripped the door open, looking like a feral animal. "Are you insane? Its two in the morning! What is wrong with you?"

I looked at him, my voice flat. "I lost my baby and gave up my health for your girlfriend. And this is how you treat me?"

Miles let out a harsh, jagged laugh. "Youre barren now, Elena. The doctors said the induction did too much damage. I need an heir. Serena told me that when she has my baby, shell let you be the godmother. You should be thanking her for being so generous. Without her, youd die alone in a gutter with no one to claim your body."

"And what am I to you?" I asked quietly. "What is she?"

He sneered. "I knew your 'kindness' was an act. Youre finally showing your true colors, trying to cling to a title you don't deserve. You Lynns always looked down on me. The 'charity case' husband. Well, Im done. Get out."

He reached into a drawer and threw a packet of papers at my chest. "I don't want anything from your pathetic family."

I looked at the papers. In the divorce settlement, I got the company back. He kept everything elsethe real estate, the liquid cash, the cars. He had already finished the asset transfer. He had left me a hollowed-out shell of a business.

Without a word, I signed.

He signed: Miles Scott.

The second the ink dried, Serenas "sweet girl" persona vanished. She stood up, her eyes gleaming with malice, and began throwing my clothes and suitcases out onto the driveway.

"Now," she spat. "Get the hell out of my house."