Without warning, he ordered someone to drive a needle—thick as a child’s arm—into my vein.
From behind the half-open door, I heard the doctor speaking nervously.
“Mr. Hudson, although both Madam and Miss Daniela have RH-negative blood, Madam has a long history of heart disease. Forcing a blood draw could trigger acute shock. I really think we should go to the hospital and—”
“No need to persuade me.” Michael’s voice was icy. “Your only job is to make sure Daniela gets better. I’ll handle everything else.”
I heard his footsteps approaching, and slowly closed my eyes.
“Does it hurt?”
His tone, for once, carried a trace of gentleness.
“Hang in there. It’ll be over soon.”
I turned my head away, unwilling to waste a single word on him.
By the time they had drawn 800cc of blood, my lips were already turning purple.
Just then, a faint cough echoed from the master bedroom—it was Daniela.
Upon hearing it, Michael immediately pushed the doctor’s hand aside and ordered him to draw blood twice as much.
The doctor, drenched in cold sweat, warned him again, “If I continued, Madam could die.”
Michael paused for only two seconds before replying coldly, “Daniela is pregnant, and the baby comes first.”
“But—”