Chapter 3
With the help of a female reporter, I filed a police report and was transferred to another public hospital for an injury examination.
On the way there, I took advantage of the time and asked her to help me prepare two things: a micro GPS tracker and a pinhole camera.
I knew Orion wouldn't just let this slide. I had to prepare for the worst.
She looked surprised, but her sense of justice won out. She agreed to help me make it happen.
Of course, before we reached the hospital, I made an excuse to use the restroom. I washed off the "injuries" on my stomach, then took out the sandpaper I had prepared in advance and rubbed the exact same spot hard. Over and over. Until the skin broke, swollen and bleeding.
If you were not ruthless with yourself, you would never be ruthless enough with your enemy.
The medical report came back: bruises and scrapes all over. The doctor told me to take it easy for a while.
It wasn't anything major, but it was enough to prove I'd been "hurt."
That night, the trending topics exploded.
[Holloway Group CEO Forces Wife To Donate Kidney] [Elite Wife Beaten At Home] [Who Is Lyra The Mistress]
Three hashtags. Top three spots.
The Holloway Group PR team worked through the night trying to suppress it, but public outrage was already out of control.
Orion couldn't get through to me. I'd blocked him everywhere.
I lay in my hospital bed, scrolling through the comments.
[This is disgusting! Seriously, are we living in the 21st century or the Dark Ages? Forcing someone to donate a kidney?]
[Who is Lyra Ashcroft? Expose her! Anyone who wrecks a family and ruins lives deserves to be canceled.]
[Feel so bad for the real wife. You have to divorce him. Don't go back to him.]
Reading those comments, I realized just how clueless I'd been to fall for a jerk like him.
The hospital room door swung open.
It wasn't a nurse. It was Orion's mother, Vivian Holloway.
She was decked out in a flashy designer dress, clutching a limited-edition Hermès bag. Two maids followed behind her, each carrying a thermos.
As soon as she walked in, she put on her sweetest, most caring face.
"Oh, Delilah," she began. "How did things get so out of hand? Couples fight, couples make up. What happens in the bedroom should stay in the bedroom. Look at you, making such a spectacle and letting outsiders laugh at our family."
She walked over and tried to take my hand.
I coldly stepped back. "Don't touch me."
Vivian's hand froze in mid-air, her face darkening. "Delilah, don't push your luck. Orion is furious right now.
"But he said if you issue a statement saying your injuries were an accident, just a misunderstanding, and then obediently donate your kidney to Lyra, he'll let everything go. No consequences. He'll even transfer 1.5 million to you as a nutritional allowance."
1.5 million dollars, for my kidney, my life.
In their eyes, I was just a commodity with a price tag.
"Vivian," I looked at her and suddenly smiled, "do you know why Lyra ended up with kidney failure?"
She looked stunned. "Isn't it just bad luck?"
"Nope, that's not it." I lowered my voice, acting all mysterious. "She trashed her kidneys because she used to sleep around and abuse meds. You really want someone with that kind of dirty history in the Holloway family?"
Vivian was ridiculously superstitious and obsessed with keeping up the family's image.
Her face twisted in disgust, like she'd just swallowed something foul.
"You… you're talking nonsense!" she snapped.
"Don't believe me? Go check." I shrugged. "My kidney's clean. I'm not giving it to someone rotten."
Vivian gave me a wary look, her resolve clearly shaken.
Just then, the TV in the hospital room suddenly cut to a news bulletin.
"The Holloway Group is holding an emergency press conference to address recent online rumors," the anchor announced.