---- Introduction My body was a battlefield, stitches screaming with every step, but my heart soared. | had just given a kidney to save Liam, the struggling artist | loved more than life itself. This massive sacrifice for the man | believed was my destiny, the fellow orphan who understood my every struggle, was all worth it because he would live. But then, laughter peeled from his hospital room - not just Liam' s, but his wealthy friends', their voices dripping with cruel amusement. "| can' t believe she actually did it," Tiffany' s voice sliced through me. "Sold a kidney! For you! That is the funniest thing | have ever heard." My world shattered as Liam, the "dying" patient, emerged from his charade, pulling off a fake IV and lighting a cigarette, his smirk cold and unfamiliar. The room reeked of betrayal. ---- Liam, the "struggling artist," was the heir to the massive Blackwood Corporation. His illness, our shared past, his love - all a meticulously crafted lie, a cruel game orchestrated by Tiffany to "teach the little orphan a lesson." The thought made me sick; | had carved myself open for a ghost, my every genuine feeling trashed for their entertainment. Why? Why would someone inflict such calculated cruelty? My hope, once so vibrant, was crushed, leaving a gaping wound where my heart used to be. The humiliation was a physical weight, but then a cold, quiet rage began to burn away the tears. They thought they had broken me, reduced me to a pathetic charity case. They were wrong. | would not be their mouse anymore. | pulled out my phone, a new purpose hardening my resolve. | was done playing their game; it was time to leave. ---- Chapter 1 The stitches on my side pulled with every shaky step, a sharp, constant reminder of the sacrifice | had just made. My body felt hollowed out, weak and unsteady, but my heart was full. It was full of a desperate, soaring hope. Liam was going to be okay. That was all that mattered. | had given him one of my kidneys. The doctors said his was a rare case of sudden, aggressive renal failure. They said he needed a transplant immediately. Finding a match was a miracle, and the fact that | was that match felt like destiny. So | did it. | sold everything | owned, drained my savings, and went through the surgery to save the man | loved. He was Liam Blackwood, a struggling artist with a soul as beautiful as his paintings, and an orphan, just like me. ---- He was my everything. Clutching the small paper bag with the warm soup I' d bought for him, | finally reached his hospital room. It was a private room, one | couldn' t afford but one his mysterious benefactor had apparently arranged. | was just glad he was comfortable. A fresh wave of dizziness washed over me, and my face, | knew, was as pale as the hospital walls. But | smiled. The pain was worth it. He was worth it. | raised a hand to knock, but it froze in mid-air. Laughter spilled from inside the room, loud and carefree. It wasn't just Liam' s voice. | recognized the others. Tiffany Hayes, his childhood friend who always looked at me with a kind of cold amusement. And Ethan and Olivia, the other two from his privileged circle who tolerated me at best. ---- "| can't believe she actually did it," Tiffany' s sharp, mocking voice cut through the door. "Sold a kidney! For you! That is the funniest thing | have ever heard." Ethan laughed loudly. "Seriously, Liam. Your acting skills have really improved. You almost had me convinced with that whole 'I'm dying' routine. You deserve an Oscar." My blood ran cold. The paper bag slipped from my numb fingers, the container of soup hitting the tiled floor with a dull thud. | didn't feel the splash of warm liquid on my shoes. What did he mean? Acting skills? What did he mean, deceive her? a voice inside me screamed, but no sound came out. What did he mean, deceive her? ---- "The best part," Olivia chimed in, her voice dripping with condescension, "is that she probably emptied out that pathetic little bank account of hers. How much was in it again? Five thousand dollars? Ten? It' s just so tragically pure." The door wasn' t fully closed. It was ajar, just a crack. Through it, | saw something that shattered my world. Liam, my dying Liam, was not in bed. He was standing, dressed not in a hospital gown but in a sharp, tailored suit that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe. He ripped a fake IV bandage off his arm and tossed it in the trash. He pulled a cigarette from a sleek case and lit it, the smoke curling around a face that was no longer gentle and pained, but sharp, arrogant, and utterly unfamiliar. He took a long drag, a smirk playing on his lips. ---- It wasn't the warm, loving smile he saved for me. It was cold, cruel. "It was Tiffany' s idea," he said, his voice a low drawl |' d never heard before. He glanced at her, and the look they shared was intimate, ancient. "She wanted to teach the little orphan a lesson for daring to get too close." Tiffany giggled, stepping closer and wrapping her arms around his neck. "She actually thought you, Liam Blackwood, the heir to the Blackwood Corporation, would be a starving artist living in some dump? It's hilarious." Blackwood Corporation The name echoed in the sudden, roaring emptiness of my head. They were one of the biggest conglomerates in the country. A prince. Not an orphan. ---- Not my fellow sufferer. My body began to tremble violently. My stitches screamed in protest, a fiery line of agony across my abdomen. My hands and feet went numb, and the world started to tilt. It was alla lie. The shared past, the illness, the desperation, his love. All of it. A lie. A cruel, elaborate game played by the rich for their own amusement. "What about the fake medical records?" Ethan asked, still chuckling. "Easy," Liam said, shrugging. "Money buys anything. A few fake documents, a cooperative doctor on a private payroll. She was so desperate to believe, she never questioned a thing. ---- | couldn't breathe. | stumbled back, my legs threatening to give out. My vision blurred, black spots dancing at the edges. | had to get out of there. | couldn't let them see me. | couldn't let them know | had heard. A passing nurse saw my state. "Miss? Are you alright? You look like you're about to faint." Her voice was a lifeline. | shook my head, unable to speak, and half-ran, half-stumbled away from that door, away from the laughter and the smoke and the wreckage of my life. | found the nearest restroom, locked the door, and slid down the wall, my body finally giving in to the violent shudders. The hope | carried just moments ago was gone, crushed into dust, leaving only a cold, gaping wound where my heart, and my kidney, used to be.