My Blood Bought His Tech Empire

I was Kellans prized possession, a little gilded bird kept securely in his cage.

When his empire crumbled and he filed for bankruptcy, I ruthlessly aborted our baby and walked out the door.

Three years later, Kellan was back on top, a billionaire once more. And I came back.

Everyone in our social circle whispered that he would never forgive me. But when we finally stood face-to-face, his hands gripped my shoulders, his knuckles white. He pushed me away, then pulled me back, finally crushing me against his chest in a gesture of pure, defeated surrender.

"Daphne," he murmured into my hair, his voice thick. "If I just stay rich, does that mean youll never leave me again?"

He built me a house of glass and gold. Marble countertops, silk sheets, a life dripping in an opulence that eclipsed anything we had before. He was terrified of losing me.

Eventually, I got pregnant. Right before my due date, Kellan had to fly to Europe for a crucial acquisition. Anxious about leaving me, he pressed three sealed envelopes into my hands.

"Daphne," he said, kissing my forehead. "Don't open these until you feel like you absolutely can't hold on anymore. Just pretend it's me, standing right there with you."

When my labor turned into a nightmare and I found myself hanging on the edge of death in the delivery room, my breath shallow and my vision fading, I used the last ounce of my strength to tear them open.

My blood turned to ice.

The first envelope contained photos of him in bed with another woman.

The second was a single, crisp piece of paper. The handwriting was sharp and mocking: Ready to die, baby?

The third was a marriage certificate. Kellan and another woman.

And his wife was the lead surgeon currently standing between my legs.

...

The blood roared in my ears, rushing backward through my veins. I never, not in my darkest nightmares, imagined Kellan could hate me this much.

Leila twirled the scalpel between her gloved fingers, a sickeningly sweet smile on her face as she looked down at my swollen stomach.

"Well, well, the little homewrecker," she cooed. "Kellan told me to take extra special care of you."

She leaned in closer, her eyes gleaming. "When you dumped him at his lowest, you didn't think he'd claw his way back to the top, did you?"

A cracked, pathetic laugh escaped my throat.

Didn't I?

When Kellan went bankrupt, I immediately flew out of the country to beg my wealthy parents to bail him out. I never expected them to lock me inside their estate, confiscating my passport to keep me from returning to him. They froze all my accounts to ensure I couldn't send him a dime.

So, I fell into the dark web. I joined an underground syndicate of freelance hackers, coding relentlessly, day and night, running illegal penetration tests to make fast, untraceable cash. Every single cent was wired anonymously into Kellan's depleted accounts.

I pushed myself until I was coughing up blood onto my keyboard. Until the exhaustion metastasized into stomach cancer...

"Ah!" A blinding, jagged spike of agony tore through my abdomen. Cold sweat drenched my hospital gown. I stared at her, my eyes wide with a horrific realization.

"You... you didn't give me anesthesia?"

Before Leila could answer, the familiar, deep baritone of a mans voice echoed from the speakerphone on a nearby surgical tray.

"You're used to being pampered, baby. You always turned your nose up at domestic meds. The imported stuff is on the way. You'll just have to tough it out."

When Kellan first bought my time, I played the part of the impossible brat. I threw tantrums. I demanded only imported, out-of-season fruits. Everyone in his circle knew his little trophy girl was a nightmare to please, yet he had always catered to my every whim with a soft, indulgent smile.

But this... this was pure, unadulterated vengeance.

The pain was suffocating. I gasped for air, forcing the words out toward the phone.

"Kellan... what happened back then... I can explain"

His voice dropped, freezing the air in the room. "Explain?"

A second later, Leila let out a breathy gasp. Her hand jerked, the scalpel slicing millimeters off course. A fresh wave of white-hot agony ripped a scream from my throat.

Leilas face flushed a deep crimson. She shot a coy, scolding look at the phone. "Kellan, stop! I'm performing surgery here. Quit playing around!"

A low, mechanical buzzing sound drifted from beneath her surgical gown. My entire body went rigid.

While I was on the operating table, half a step into the grave, giving birth to his child... they were...

Kellan... even sworn enemies wouldn't do this...

For the next three hours, every time Leila prepared to make a cut, Kellan would press a button on his end. Leilas knees would buckle, and the blade would slip, tearing through my flesh.

"Does that rhythm feel good, baby?" his voice rasped through the speaker.

"Ah... babe... you're so bad..."

I lay strapped to the table, my jaw clamped shut so tight my teeth threatened to crack. My fingernails dug into the armrests until all ten beds bled profusely.

But I didn't make a sound.

Working in the underground hacker network, I had made enemies. I'd been hunted, beaten, and tortured. I had learned how to swallow pain. There were nights Id drag myself back to my safehouse, covered in my own blood, take a shower, and wake up the next morning to code so I could send Kellan more money.

An eternity passed before the surgery was finally over.

My once-smooth stomach was now a mangled, grotesque mess of butchered flesh.

Just before the darkness pulled me under, I heard a flicker of genuine surprise in Kellan's voice over the line.

"Huh. You used to cry and beg me to stop if I gripped your wrists a little too hard." A cruel, hollow laugh. "Look at how much you can take now. What's the matter? Did you figure out that without me, nobody in this world is going to coddle you?"

In the hazy delirium of unconsciousness, my mind drifted back to the day we met.

It was my first time back in the States. I saw Kellan across a dimly lit VIP lounge, and something in me just clicked. I was actually sitting there, sipping a martini, seriously wondering if it was a felony to kidnap a man and keep him, when he walked over and slid his black card across the bar.

"Fifty thousand a month," he had said, his eyes dark and appraising. "Be my girl."

From that day on, I played my role perfectly. The arrogant, spoiled brat who snapped her fingers whenever she was tired or hungry.

His three frat-bro best friends despised me.

"Who the hell acts like this?" Derek used to complain. "She literally kicked her Louboutins into your chest and told you to take them off!"

They couldn't stand me. They challenged me to a street race, betting that if I lost, I had to drop the diva act.

I annihilated them in three straight laps. After that, they bowed to my authority, following me around like eager puppies, calling me their queen.

When my eyelids finally fluttered open, the sterile chill of the hospital room reminded me that those days were dead and buried.

My butchered incision burned with the threat of infection. Every breath felt like swallowing glass.

Clutching the wall for support, I dragged myself out into the hallway to find a nurse. Instead, I saw Leila walking ahead of me, cradling a swaddled infant in her arms.

Trailing behind her were Kellans three best friendsDerek and the others. They were holding up a massive, obnoxious banner, shouting at the top of their lungs:

"CONGRATULATIONS TO THE REAL MRS. KELLAN ON DELIVERING THE HOMEWRECKER'S TRASH!"

"CONGRATULATIONS TO THE REAL MRS. KELLAN ON DELIVERING THE HOMEWRECKER'S TRASH!"

A crowd of onlookers, nurses, and patients had gathered, whispering and pointing.

"Oh my god, his wife is a saint. If I were the doctor, I'd have thrown the mistress and her bastard out the window!"

"Can you believe the nerve? Trying to trap Dr. Leila's husband! Everyone knows the CEO worships the ground Dr. Leila walks on. Having her deliver the baby is the ultimate power move to humiliate the side piece!"

The crowd surged forward, chaotic and tight. Suddenly, amidst the shoving, someone snatched the baby from Leila's arms.

With a sickening thud, the infant was hurled onto the hard linoleum floor.

"That's what you get, homewrecker!" someone spat.

I pressed my hands against my bleeding incision and screamed, lunging forward like a feral animal.

Derek caught me by the shoulders, shoving me back with a sneer. "Well, well. If it isn't Kellan's little gold digger. It's been what, three, four years?"

Tears streamed down my face, mixing with the cold sweat. Across the floor, my baby let out a faint, gurgling breath, barely clinging to life.

"Derek, please..." I sobbed, dropping to my knees. "Please, remember when I helped you... please just let me get to my baby..."

Back then, I had single-handedly hacked a rival firm to secure a massive merger for Derek. He had practically worshipped me, swearing he would take a bullet for me.

Dereks eyes turned dead and cold. He kicked me away. "You think a cheap whore gets to give me orders? I only take orders from Kellan's actual wife."

The crowd was moving again, feet shuffling perilously close to the tiny bundle on the floor.

"But it's Kellan's baby too!" I shrieked, my voice tearing. "Aren't you afraid of what he'll do?!"

Leila burst into laughter. A second later, Derek and the others joined in, their laughter echoing off the sterile walls.

"Oh, sweetie," Derek mocked, wiping a tear of mirth from his eye. "You didn't actually think Kellan would ever touch you again, did you?"

"You're so obsessed with money, you actually convinced yourself he was treating you like royalty again?" another friend chimed in.

"Newsflash, honey," Leila whispered, her voice dripping with venom. "The guy you slept with was a homeless junkie Kellan hired off the street. He filmed the whole thing and sent the video to the group chat!"

I froze. The world stopped spinning.

The passionate reunion I thought we had. The tender nights. The desperate, consuming love.

It was all a lie. A meticulously crafted stage for his revenge.

In the blink of an eye, a heavy boot came down in the chaos. There was a faint, sickening crunch. The baby stopped crying.

Realizing what had just happened, the crowd suddenly scattered like roaches in the light, eager to distance themselves from the murder.

I sat slumped against the wall, staring blankly at the tiny, lifeless body on the floor.

"Why didn't you believe me..." I whispered to the empty air. "He really was Kellan's..."

A primal, guttural scream ripped from my chest. I threw myself at Leila, tackling her to the ground, my fists hammering wildly at her stomach.

Derek and the others rushed to pull me off, but before they could, a massive force kicked me squarely in my raw, unhealed abdomen. I flew backward, hitting the wall.

Blood immediately soaked through my gown. I looked up, gasping for air, and saw him.

Kellan.

He was gently pulling Leila into his arms, checking her over before turning his furious, obsidian eyes on me.

"Daphne!" he roared. "Leila worked herself to the bone helping me rebuild my company! She exhausted herself so badly she was hospitalized! Do you have a fucking heart?! How dare you touch her!"

The tears broke, flowing silently down my cheeks.

I had worked myself until I coughed up blood. Until my stomach rotted with cancer. And he was asking if I had a heart?

A thousand explanations sat on the tip of my tongue, but looking at the absolute hatred in his eyes, I swallowed them all.

"Our baby is dead," I whispered, my voice hollow. "Did you know that?"

Kellan froze for a fraction of a second. His eyes reddened, pooling with a toxic mix of grief and unadulterated rage.

"Your bastard with some junkie dies and you cry for it? What about our child, Daphne?!"

He took a step toward me, his voice shaking the walls. "You were almost five months along when you killed her! How could you do it?! Because I was broke? Because I lost my company, you murdered my daughter?!"

Mentioning that child felt like taking a bullet to the chest. I squeezed my eyes shut.

When Kellan lost everything and fell into a deep depression, I was desperate. I signed up for an illegal, high-risk clinical trial for pregnant women to earn a massive payout. But the drug failed. It killed the baby in my womb. I was a motherdid he really think I didn't bleed for her?

But I was terrified the guilt would push him over the edge. So, I hid the truth about the trials, packed my bags, and flew out to beg my parents for a loan.

All he saw was the abortion clinic receipt I left on the kitchen counter.

Seeing my silence, Kellan let out a bitter, jagged laugh. He turned, walked to his car, and pulled out a heavy duffel bag.

He unzipped it and dumped it over me. Thousands of crumpled one-dollar bills rained down, burying me in dirty, degrading paper.

"There's the blood money for your kid!" he spat. "You made this big scene because you wanted a payout, right?! You came crawling back to me because you wanted cash, didn't you?!"

He closed his eyes, and a single, crystalline tear slipped down his jawline.

"Everything you want, I'll give it to you. But after today, our debts are settled. If I ever see your face again, I'll kill you."

I shook my head frantically, my chest heaving with sobs that tore my stitches open.

I didn't want the money!

I let them experiment on my body. I joined the criminal underworld. I severed ties with my family forever. I walked through hell and sacrificed my very soul.

The only thing I ever wanted was you!

The blood pooled beneath me, slick and warm against the cold tile. The pain finally short-circuited my brain, and I began to lose consciousness.

In the fading light, Kellans face was a mask of stone.

"Get a doctor to drag her out of here," he ordered the room. "Tell her the next time we meet, I won't hold back."

Suddenly, Dereks phone pinged. He looked at it, his eyes widening in shock.

"Kellan! We got a hit on the IP address for Sage! We're finally gonna find out who the hacker is that funded your comeback!"

A beat passed. Derek frowned. "Wait... the location is in Philadelphia. That's the exact same address the private investigators found for Daphne when she left the country. You don't think..."

Kellan let out a harsh, dismissive scoff.

"She used to cry if a tag on her dress scratched her neck. You really think my little princess was running a dark-web hustle to wire me millions?" He glared at Derek. "Use your brain before you speak."

When I woke up, the bandages on my stomach had been changed.

An older doctor stood by my bed, his eyes filled with profound pity.

"Sweetheart, you shouldn't have tried to have a child. The cancer was somewhat under control, but the pregnancy and the trauma... it's spread aggressively. You don't have much time."

I nodded, murmuring a quiet thank you. It didn't matter anymore.

I dragged myself out of bed, leaning heavily on the IV pole, and made my way down to the morgue. I needed to claim my son's body.

It's better this way, I thought numbly. At least when I'm dead, he won't be left behind for Kellan and Leila to torture.

But when I pushed open the heavy metal doors of the morgue, I saw Leila. She was casually tossing my son's tiny body into a biohazard trash bag.

Adrenaline surged through my dying veins. I hurled myself at her.

"What the hell are you doing?!"

Leila rolled her eyes, unfazed. "Oh, look. The homewrecker is awake. My dogs are on a raw meat diet. I figured I'd do a little recycling." She smirked. "What's the big deal? It's just a junkie's trash. Don't tell me you're emotionally attached?"

In my delirious haze, I hallucinated. Through the translucent plastic of the trash bag, I saw the face of the daughter I had lost years ago, crying out for me.

I snatched the bag from her hands, ripping it open and pressing the cold, tiny body against my chest.

"Shh, baby, don't cry... Mommy's here..."

Leila sneered and reached out to grab him back. "Stop acting crazy, you psycho!"

I clamped my arms tight around my baby and lunged forward, sinking my teeth into her extended forearm.

"Don't you ever touch my child!"

Leila shrieked in pain. I bit down harder, tasting copper, refusing to let go until my teeth hit bone and a deep, ragged gash opened up.

With her free hand, Leila slapped me across the face so hard my vision went black. "You stupid bitch! You have a death wish?!"

But a second later, Leila's demeanor flipped. She began to weep softly, her voice trembling.

"Daphne, why would you bite me? It hurts so much..."

I followed her gaze to the doorway. Kellan was standing there.

He charged into the room like a bull, pulling Leila behind him, looking at me as if I were a monster.

Leila whimpered, burying her face in his chest. "I was just trying to help her arrange the remains... and she attacked me. Kellan, this is the arm I injured while carrying boxes for your startup... and she bit it!"

Guilt and fury warped Kellan's features. He reached forward, violently ripping the dead infant from my grasp and tossing it onto a nearby metal gurney.

His hand clamped around my throat, lifting me onto my toes.

"I told you!" he roared, spit flying into my face. "I told you the next time we met, I would destroy you! Stop overestimating your place in my world!"

He leaned in, his breath hot against my ear. "You wanted that junkie's bastard so badly? Fine. I'll give him back to you."

Before I could process his words, Kellan dragged me into the adjacent autopsy theater and slammed me down onto the steel table.

The stitches on my abdomen ripped completely open. Blood poured over the sides of the table. I bit down on my own lip so hard my teeth were coated in scarlet.

The older doctor from my room was forced in by Kellan's security. He looked sick to his stomach, but under Kellan's terrifying glare, he scrubbed in.

He took a scalpel and cut through the ten layers of tissue they had just repaired. Every slice sent tremors of unimaginable agony through my fading body.

And then... he picked up the dead infant.

And placed it inside my open womb.

Layer by layer, he sewed me back up.

Kellan let out a cold, satisfied laugh and walked out, taking Leila with him.

Left alone on the bloody table, hemorrhaging out, I looked up at the weeping doctor. He pressed his hands together in prayer.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart... God forgive me, I didn't want to do this..."

I smiled faintly, tasting my own blood. "I don't blame you," I forced the words out on an exhale. "But I need you to do one thing for me. Prepare three envelopes. On the day Kellan's company goes public... hand them to him."

Three months later, Kellan's tech empire went public on the New York Stock Exchange.

Walking the red carpet with Leila on his arm, his mind felt heavy. A dense, chaotic fog had settled over him.

Every single day since he walked out of that hospital, it felt like there was glass in his lungs. During the years I was gone, he had thought of me constantly. He convinced himself it was hatred.

But now that he had his ultimate revenge, why did his chest ache with this suffocating pressure? Why, despite his monumental success, did he only feel alive when he was pretending things were back to the way they used to be with me?

As he stood at the podium, flashbulbs exploding around him for the ribbon-cutting, an older man pushed through the security line.

It was the doctor. He shoved three sealed envelopes into Kellan's hands.

"Mr. CEO... someone asked me to deliver these to you."

Kellan, assuming they were congratulatory letters from board members, absentmindedly tore them open.

He froze.

The first was a DNA paternity test. It proved, with 99.9% certainty, that he was the father of the dead infant.

The second was my death certificate, stapled to a terminal, stage-four stomach cancer diagnosis.

The third was a stack of bank transfer receipts. Millions of dollars. And the signature on the bottom line read: Sage.