Blood For Your New Bride

For our fifth reconciliation, Carter laid out three ironclad rules for me to return to the estate.

First, I was forbidden from having another child unless Mia explicitly consented.

Second, I was to submit to daily blood and marrow extractions to synthesize the treatments keeping Mia alive.

Third, I was to stay entirely away from my two sons.

I nodded, agreeing instantly. There was no bargaining, no bitter fighting like the four times before.

I delivered my blood to Mias private medical wing on the dot every afternoon.

If I saw my boys in the hallway, I turned and walked the other way.

And when I discovered I was accidentally pregnant, I didn't say a word. I simply had my driver take me to a private clinic downtown and terminated the pregnancy.

By the time Carter burst through the clinic doors, the procedure was already over.

He stared at me, the color draining from his face, before he lunged, his hands gripping my shoulders, shaking me as his voice broke into a raw, guttural scream.

"Are you out of your mind, Norah?!"

"I told you! If you got pregnant again, we could raise it! We wouldnt have to give this one to Mia like the last twowhy the hell would you kill my baby?"

I didn't have the strength to answer him. My vision was blurring at the edges.

Inside my head, the mechanical chime of The Voice grew deafeningly loud.

[Congratulations, Host. All core objectives for the 'Villainous Ex-Wife' storyline have been achieved. Please prepare for physical expiration in three days. Final rewards will be issued upon completion.]

Hearing the system's voice, a faint, involuntary smile touched my lips.

Carter saw it. His jaw clenched tight, and he forcefully tilted my chin up, making me look at him.

"You're smiling? You just killed our child and you're smiling? What is this, Norah? Is this your sick way of punishing me?"

How could it be? I thought tiredly. This was just the only ending left for us.

"You're overthinking it, Mr. Kensington," I whispered, my throat dry. "Mia didn't sign off on this pregnancy. Ergo, the child couldn't exist."

"Mr. Kensington? You're calling me Mr. Kensington now? Youve called me Carter since we were sixteen... Norah, what kind of game are you playing?"

I was too hollowed out to field his questions. Biting the inside of my cheek to ride out the dull cramping in my abdomen, I gently but firmly pushed his hands away.

"I just had surgery. Step back, Carter. You don't want to carry the smell of blood back to the house. It might upset Mia."

He opened his mouth to snap back, but his eyes suddenly darted past me, locking onto the neckline of a nurse passing by the doorway.

Around her neck hung the Star of the Atlantica breathtaking custom blue sapphire. It was the piece Carter had bought at auction for our first anniversary, the one he had stayed up nights re-setting into a pendant himself.

I used to treat that necklace like a holy relic. I kept it in a velvet vault, only daring to wear it at the most exclusive galas.

But I didn't like it anymore.

Just like I didn't like Carter anymore. And just like I no longer liked the children we had made together.

Carter's eyes went bloodshot. He looked around the clinic and suddenly realized the nurses and receptionists were wearing familiar things. My diamond studs. The Cartier tennis bracelet. The vintage hairpins.

He realized my room at the estate had been systematically stripped of every gift he had ever given me.

His hands began to shake. He stepped out into the hall, practically ripped the sapphire off the terrified nurse, and stormed back in, dangling it in front of my face.

"I made this for you! I stayed awake for three days drafting the goddamn bezel! And you just!"

I blinked slowly, sifting through the foggy memories. "I think you're right. Good memory."

All the blood rushed out of Carter's face, leaving him ash-white.

I was about to ask him to leave when rapid footsteps echoed in the hall. My eldest son, Noah, burst into the room, his face flushed with excitement. But the moment his eyes met my pale, exhausted face, he flinched, instinctively taking a step back.

He lowered his voice, dropping it into a harsh, deliberate whisper. "Dad. Auntie Mia is pregnant. Im going to have a little sister!"

Carters eyebrows shot up. A wave of uncontrollable joy washed over his face. This was what he had been waiting fora child with the woman he truly loved.

I sat there on the sterile bed, quietly watching the two of them share their profound, beautiful moment.

Carter cleared his throat, suddenly looking uncomfortable, his voice dropping into a gentle cadence. "Norah, Mia is..."

Before he could finish the sentence, I reached behind my neck and unclasped a cheap string of plastic beads I had worn every day for four years. I held it out toward Noah.

"Here. I'm giving this back to you," I said, my voice completely flat. "And I'll take mine back."

Noahs hand instinctively flew to his chest, clutching the silver St. Jude medallion hidden under his shirt. His voice trembled. "W-what do you want that for?"

"I prayed for that medal. I don't want you to have it anymore."

When Noah was five, he contracted a severe bacterial infection that nearly stopped his heart. I had never been a religious woman, but I drove to a remote monastery in the mountains, walking the last three miles on my knees until they bled, just to get that medallion blessed for him. The monks told me it would ward off evil.

When I put it around his little neck, he held it like it was treasure. He had touched my bruised knees with his little hands, asking, "Does it hurt, Mommy? Noah will blow on it to make it better."

Then, he had spent an hour stringing together those cheap plastic beads to make me a necklace in return.

I had worn that plastic trash like it was worth more than the crown jewels.

Now, looking at it, it just looked like exactly what it was. Cheap. Worthless.

Seeing my icy expression, Noahs face burned with a mix of shame and sudden, defensive anger. He slapped my hand away, sending the plastic beads clattering to the linoleum floor.

Yanking the silver chain off his own neck, he threw the St. Jude medal at my feet.

"Who cares?! Auntie Mia is getting me a custom platinum one anyway. I didn't even want to wear your stupid necklace anymore."

I didn't say a word. I just leaned over the edge of the bed to pick up the silver medal.

Before my fingers could brush the metal, Carters expensive leather shoe slammed down on it.

He loomed over me, his eyes dark and frigid.

"First you kill the baby. Then you give away my jewelry. Now youre terrorizing a little boy for his good luck charm." His lip curled into a sneer. "Do you honestly think playing the heartless, broken wife is going to make me kick Mia out? Don't hold your breath, Norah."

The Voice rang in my head again.

[Alert, Host. The male and female leads must be physically present at the moment of your death, otherwise the final objective will fail.]

[As the 'Villainous Ex-Wife,' your plot completion is currently at 99%. System rating: S-Tier. You are one step away from freedom.]

I managed a faint, tired smile.

Looking back, the way I had "completed" these villainous tasks was deeply ironic.

Even now, they genuinely believed I was a manipulative monster.

When I snatched a cookie out of Noahs hand because Mia gave it to him, I was branded a jealous, bitter woman who couldn't stand seeing another woman love her son. No one believed me when I screamed that the cookie had peanut butter in it, and Noah was deathly allergic.

Later, when I caught Mia having secret dinners with the CEO of Carter's biggest rival and tried to physically block her from entering Carters R&D server room, I was accused of being insecure, terrified that her brilliance would outshine mine.

Carter and Noah trusted her blindly. Absolutely.

Seeing my silence, Carter assumed he had hit the nail on the head. His anger flared again.

"You really hate me that much, don't you? Enough to butcher your own flesh and blood." He leaned in closer. "Since you're so repulsed by the idea of being a mother, I'll do you a favor. I'm having the doctors tie your tubes before you leave this building."

The father and son walked out together, leaving me to finally exhale.

I was driven back to the estate and fell into a dead sleep. The next morning, the estate manager, Carson, woke me by banging on my door.

It was time for the extraction.

Martha, the head housekeeper who had been with me for years, looked on with tears in her eyes. "Mr. Carson, please, the Mrs. just had surgery yesterday. Her body is too weak. Can't the blood draw wait?"

Carsons face was a mask of stone.

I walked out into the hall and shook my head at Martha, silently telling her to let it go. If Mia didn't get her daily transfusion of my Rh-null blood, there was no telling what kind of hell she would raise.

I sat down in the medical chair and cleanly slid the IV needle into my scarred, battered forearm.

Watching the dark blood fill the tube, my mind drifted back to the very first time they took it from me.

Carter and Mia had been childhood sweethearts, practically inseparable until Mias family went bankrupt and moved away. They reconnected years later at a high-society gala. Some sleazy investors had pressured Mia into drinking until she suffered severe alcohol poisoning and liver distress.

She was rushed to the hospital, needing a massive transfusion of a hyper-rare blood type.

Carter hadn't hesitated. He dragged me out of my bedwhile I was still doing my postpartum recovery for Noahand forced me to the hospital. Because Mia and I shared the exact same rare blood.

Afterward, he had held my hand, his voice thick with guilt. "Did the needle hurt? Im so sorry, Norah. She was dying. I panicked. I just wasn't thinking..."

I wanted to believe him. I wanted to swallow that excuse and keep my perfect life.

But I couldn't lie to myself anymore.

Because while I was unconscious from the blood loss, The Protocol had awakened in my mind.

That was the day I learned the truth: this world was nothing but a scripted romance novel, and I was the designated 'Villainous Ex-Wife.' My entire existence was plotted to create obstacles that would ultimately prove the true love between the male lead, Carter, and the female lead, Mia.

At first, I rebelled. I fought the narrative with everything I had.

We were in love, I told myself. We have a beautiful baby. Carter looks at me like I hung the moon. He would never fall for Mia!

I hired private investigators. I put GPS trackers on his cars and phones.

Everything seemed normal. I was just about to write off The Voice as a symptom of postpartum psychosis.

And then came the night of Noah's one-month milestone celebration.

I watched the security footage. The two of them, burning with sudden, inexplicable passion, tearing at each other's clothes as they stumbled into a penthouse suite.

I drove to the hotel and kicked the door open. Their clothes were strewn across the carpet. The heavy, sick scent of sex filled the room.

I lunged, wanting to tear Mia apart with my bare hands, but Carter instantly threw himself over her, shielding her naked body with his own.

He fell to his knees, weeping, begging for forgiveness. "Someone slipped something in my drink, Norah! I swear to God, I was hallucinating! I thought she was you!"

Looking at the way his arms were wrapped protectively around Mia, I felt like I had been plunged into an ice bath.

"We're getting a divorce," I whispered.

Hearing that word, Carter threatened to throw himself off the balcony. He brought baby Noah to me, crying, begging me to keep the family together.

Back then, Noah was so attached to me. He wasn't the boy he was today.

They broke my resolve. We reconciled.

But soon came the second divorce.

I caught Carter lying. He had promised to send Mia out of the state, to sever all ties. Instead, I found out he was driving to a secluded estate in the Hamptons every weekend. I followed him and found his second family.

The third divorce happened when Mia got pregnant. Carter told me he needed to give her a secret wedding in Paris, just to "fulfill her dying wish."

The fourth divorce was when Mia miscarried and successfully framed me for pushing her down the stairs.

In a blind rage, Carter took both my sonsseven-year-old Noah and two-year-old Sammyand gave them to Mia to raise as "compensation."

They were pieces of my own soul. I fought like a feral animal to get them back. In the struggle, I accidentally scratched Mia's face.

For that, Carter had his private security drag me into the estate's unheated glass conservatory in the dead of winter. I was locked in, forced to kneel on the freezing marble floor for three days and three nights without a drop of water.

It was Noah who finally picked the lock and sneaked in, bringing me a piece of bread and a bottle of water.

Even freezing to death, seeing my son made my chest bloom with warmth.

But before I could even take a bite, Noah looked at me with his big, innocent eyes and said, "Mommy... can you please divorce Daddy for real this time?"

I froze. "Noah?"

"Auntie Mia's birthday wish is to marry Daddy. I want to help her make her wish come true. So... can you leave? Oh, and I asked Sammy. Sammy wants Auntie Mia to be his mommy too."

The breath I had been holding for seven years finally left my lungs.

The fight drained out of my bones.

That was the exact moment I stopped fighting the plot, and truly began to execute my role as the Villain.

Not long after my blood was taken, four of Carters private security guards marched into my room and escorted me out to the Hamptons estate.

I barely stepped through the doorway of the master suite when a heavy crystal tumbler flew at my face. It shattered against my forehead. The pain was blinding. Tears sprang to my eyes as warm blood poured down the side of my face, my knees buckling.

"My auntie is pregnant! How dare you put poison in the IV bags!"

Noahs furious voice echoed in the room, but he suddenly cut himself off, his face going pale as he saw the blood gushing over my eye. "Mom... I..."

He took a hesitant step toward me.

I took a deliberate step back, putting distance between us.

Seeing my retreat, Noah stopped dead. His fists clenched at his sides. "Stop acting like a victim! I didn't even throw it that hard!"

On the massive canopy bed, Mia weakly pushed herself up, leaning heavily against Carter's chest. "Noah, sweetie, don't speak to your mother that way. It's not polite."

The moment the words left her mouth, she broke into a violent fit of coughing, a thin trickle of dark blood leaking from the corner of her lips.

"Why are you defending her?" Carter snapped, his arms tightening around Mia. He barked an order at the private medical team standing by the wall, then turned his gaze to me. It was pure, unadulterated hatred.

"You aborted our child yesterday, Norah. Are you trying to murder our only living baby today? How did your soul get so utterly black?"

I finally understood the setup. I wiped the blood and tears from my eyes with the back of my hand.

"Do you really think I'm stupid enough to poison the blood supply I literally hand over every day? There are cameras in the medical wing, Carter. If you don't believe me, just check the footage"

Mia's theatrical, agonizing coughs drowned out my voice. Carter and Noah immediately hovered over her, their faces etched with frantic devotion.

Looking at that perfect little family, I knew the truth didn't matter. They would never believe me.

I let out a long, exhausted sigh. "Fine. If you say I did it, then I did it."

Carter let out a cold, vicious laugh. "What kind of tone is that? Am I wronging you?" He stepped toward me. "Carson has managed my family's estates for thirty years. Only the three of you touched that blood. What, are you implying Mia poisoned herself? Do you think everyone in the world is as sick and twisted as you?"

He pointed toward the doors. "Get her outside. Kneel in the courtyard. Don't let her up until she figures out how to confess."

Just as the guards grabbed my arms, Martha, who had secretly followed my car in a taxi, rushed into the room. She fell to her knees, grabbing Carter's pant leg, sobbing.

"Mr. Kensington, please! The Mrs. just had surgery yesterday! If you make her kneel in the freezing cold, itll kill her!"

Carter, blind with rage, sneered at the old woman. "Surgery? A surgery she chose to have to kill my kid!" He looked down at Martha. "You want to protect her so badly? Fine. You take her punishment. Thirty strikes with the riding crop."

My heart stopped. I threw myself in front of Martha.

She was the only person in this godforsaken world who treated me with any warmth, looking after me like her own daughter. She was sixty years old. That kind of beating would literally kill her.

"Are you insane, Carter?!" I screamed. "She's an old woman! If you lay a hand on her, I swear to God Ill call the police!"

"Call them," Carter whispered, his voice dangerously soft. "See what happens."

He gave a sharp hand signal. Two massive guards dragged Martha away by her arms.

"No! Let her go!" I fought wildly, but Carson pinned my arms behind my back with crushing force.

"Norah, please, just stop fighting with him," Mia cried out softly, slipping out of bed as if to come pull me away. But before her bare foot even touched the floor, her knees 'gave out' and she collapsed gracefully into Carters waiting arms, her eyes brimming with fresh tears.

"Norah... why did you push me?"

Carters eyes frantically scanned Mia's body for injuries before he whipped his head toward the guards, his voice a deafening roar.

"Take my wife down to the cellar. Twenty strikes with the leather straps. And I want every single one to draw blood!"

Every lash felt like my bones were being splintered. I bit through my own lip to keep from screaming, desperate to get back upstairs to save Martha, but I was strapped to a chair, unable to move an inch.

By the time it was over, my back was a shredded, agonizing mess.

Through the haze of pain, I saw them dragging Marthas unconscious body past the open door. My blood ran cold.

"Remember today," Carters voice echoed from the top of the stairs. "If you ever lay a finger on Mia again, you will never see Martha alive. Throw her in the courtyard. Let her freeze."

Numbly, dragged by my armpits, I was tossed onto the frost-covered grass of the courtyard. I knelt there for a day and a night.

By dawn the next day, as I was shivering violently and trying to drag myself to my feet, a piercing wail echoed from the living room.

"I... I can't believe it. The man who drove my father to suicide... was Norahs father?" It was Mia, sobbing hysterically. "If the Gallaghers hadn't launched that hostile takeover, my dad wouldn't have lost everything! He wouldn't have jumped off that roof!"

"Carter, you have to get justice for him! You promised me!"

Carter pulled her into his chest, his voice dripping with deadly conviction. "I promise you, Mia. Im going to make the Gallaghers vomit up every cent they stole. I'll make them pay for what they did to your father."

Hearing those words, a spike of sheer terror drove through my exhausted body.

I stumbled into the living room, only to see a live surveillance feed playing on the massive flat-screen TV.

My parents were tied to a concrete pillar in what looked like an abandoned warehouse. Beside them were my older brother, my sister-in-law, and my five-year-old nephew.

Strapped to my father's chest was an explosive device.

The digital timer glowed a harsh, unforgiving red: 05:59:59. Six hours.

Panic seized my throat. I couldn't breathe.

My family treated me like royalty. But when I realized I was trapped in this 'Villain' narrative, I deliberately severed ties with them, acting like a spoiled, ungrateful brat so they would disown me. I knew my reputation was going to be destroyed, and I couldn't bear to drag them down with me.

More importantly, The Voice had told me the plot. This wasn't in the original book.

"No... Carter, this has to be a mistake. Please don't do this." I dropped to my knees, grabbing his wrists, throwing away whatever shred of dignity I had left. "I'm begging you, just look into the financials again. Please, Carter. Just double-check!"

Carter looked down at me, his eyes dark and unreadable. He let out a harsh sigh.

"The bomb is a fake, Norah. Its a psychological tactic to force a confession out of your father for the corporate espionage. Im not taking this out on you. You should be grateful. Now get out of my sight and go back to the estate."

"No... Carter, please"

He had his guards physically throw me into a black SUV and drive me back. But the terror gnawing at my insides wouldn't let me rest.

Using the brief glimpse of the warehouse architecture from the TV and Google Maps, it took me five agonizing hours of driving through industrial zones to find the right building.

I dragged my battered body up four flights of concrete stairs. And there they were.

"Norah?! Oh my god, you foolish girl, why are you here?!" my mother cried out, straining against the ropes.

Just hearing her voice broke the dam. Tears flooded my face. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry I was a terrible daughter. I'm sorry, Mom, Dad. I'm sorry, Ethan. I'm so sorry."

I fell to my knees, my bloody, trembling fingers desperately clawing at the thick industrial ropes binding them. I glanced at the timer.

00:04:55.

Even though Carter had sworn it was fake, I wasn't going to gamble with my family's lives.

"Norah, it's not safe here, you need to run! If Carter finds out you intervened, hell kill you! Run!" my sister-in-law begged.

Even my little nephew piped up, his voice shaking. "Auntie Norah, go away! Were gonna be okay, I promise!"

I bit my lip so hard I tasted copper, tears blinding me as I ripped my fingernails on the coarse hemp rope. It was too thick, knotted with military-grade precision, binding all five of them to the pillar.

As the timer ticked past the two-minute mark, a primal, suffocating dread took over. I found myself praying to whatever god was listening that Carter was telling the truththat it was just a sick, twisted prop.

In the final sixty seconds, my parents went frantic.

"Norah, get out of here right now! Listen to me!" my dad roared.

"Run, Norah! RUN!"

I refused to move, drenched in cold sweat, my fingers bloody and raw.

00:00:03.

With a sudden, violent surge of strength, my father kicked his legs out, striking me squarely in the chest. The force sent me flying backward, and I tumbled violently down the concrete stairwell.

"DAD!"

A deafening, earth-shattering roar ripped through the air, swallowing my scream. The shockwave blew the steel doors off their hinges, slamming me against the wall and knocking me instantly into the dark.

When I finally opened my eyes, my head was ringing, vision swimming.

And sitting elegantly on a folding chair a few feet away, was Mia.

She let out a soft, melodic giggle, leaning forward and dropping her voice to a theatrical whisper.

"Well, look who's awake."

"Tell me, Norah. How does it feel to watch your entire bloodline burn to ash right in front of your eyes?"

I stared at her, my mind fractured, a low, animalistic ringing in my ears.

Alarms blared in my head.

[WARNING, HOST. Do not engage in physical conflict with the Female Lead at this juncture. Altering the climax will void the contract. You are exactly five minutes away from world-detachment.]

Mia sighed, examining her perfect manicure. "Carter really bought top-tier explosives for this. The bodies are... well, theyre just meat now. We'll need you to go up there and identify them. Let us know which pile of ash is your mommy, and which is your daddy."

The last tether holding my sanity snapped.

I lunged at her, fingers hooked like claws aiming for her throat. But before I made contact, a heavy boot slammed into my ribs.

Carter kicked me with such force I slid across the concrete, curling into a ball as ribs fractured.

"Don't you dare touch her!" Carter roared. "Do you have a death wish?!"

I gasped for air, fighting through the blinding pain. I forced my eyes open.

And there, lying near the base of the stairs, blown clear from the floor above... was a severed hand.

On the fourth finger was a custom emerald ring.

The ring I bought my mother with my first paycheck.

"Ahhhhh!"

A scream ripped from my throata horrific, guttural sound that didn't even sound human. I thrashed on the ground, consumed by an agony so absolute it felt like my soul was being torn apart.

Mia immediately shrank against Carter's side, burying her face in his chest, whimpering about the noise and how her stomach was cramping.

Carter looked down at me, his eyes devoid of anything resembling humanity.

"Guards. Drag my wife upstairs to identify the remains."

Two men hauled me up the stairs by my arms. The fourth floor was a nightmare of smoke, pulverized concrete, and the heavy, sickening stench of roasted meat and copper.

But I didn't feel nauseous. I didn't feel anything but the tearing in my chest.

Just an hour ago, I was looking into their living eyes. Now...

I wrenched myself free from the guards and threw myself onto the blackened rubble.

"Dad! Dad, wake up! Please!" I dug through the debris with bare, bloody hands. "Mom... Mom!"

The sheer, visceral horror of my wailing seemed to finally pierce Carters rage. A flicker of genuine shock, followed by a flash of sickening realization, crossed his face.

"Norah... come here," he said, his voice suddenly unstable.

I didn't hear him.

"Norah. The bomb... the bomb was supposed to be a prop. I didn't... I don't know who"

I couldn't hear a word he was saying. I just kept shaking a charred piece of clothing, begging the universe to reverse time, praying they would take a breath.

But the silence of the dead was absolute.

The Voice echoed coldly in my mind.

[Detachment countdown initiated. 5... 4...]

Hearing the numbers, a cracked, hollow laugh escaped my lips.

"I'm a terrible daughter," I whispered to the ash. "I'm coming to apologize."

I stood up. I didn't hesitate. I walked straight toward the blown-out window frame.

"Norah! NORAH, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

[2... 1.]

At the final second, I vaulted over the edge and let the wind take me.

I heard Carters feral, agonizing scream trailing behind me as I fell. I hit the pavement with bone-crushing force, my vision flashing white before fading to black, a massive pool of heat spreading out from beneath me.

"NORAH!