Chapter 1
The day Alexander Morgan received the Global Humanitarian Award.
I had just been given a death sentence by my doctors - I couldn't afford another artificial heart replacement.
On TV, the host asked Alexander to call the person he regretted losing most. Without hesitation, he dialed my number.
When I answered, I heard him ask: "Do you regret leaving me for money back then?"
Looking at the astronomical bill for my artificial heart replacement, I let out a soft laugh. "Since you're swimming in billions now, Alexander, any chance you could spot me $200K?"
The line went dead. On TV, I watched his cold expression as he said: "I have no regrets anymore."
What he never knew was that years ago, when his heart was failing, I had secretly arranged to give him mine.
Shortly after the broadcast ended, I received a $200,000 transfer from Alexander. I froze for a moment, my feelings complicated.
After paying the medical bills, I heard a familiar voice outside my hospital room. Through the door crack, I saw Alexander's silhouette. Seven years hadn't left a single mark on him. The only difference was the person by his side - it was no longer me.
Fresh from the awards ceremony, still in his formal wear, he had rushed to the hospital. His girlfriend Emily had a slight stomach ache. I watched as he held her lovingly in his arms.
I lowered my head, attempting to quietly close the door without being noticed. Alexander yanked it open. Startled, I looked up, meeting his gaze.
His eyes swept over me with icy coldness. "Seven years of radio silence and you can't even manage a hello?"
Looking at him, a thousand words crossed my mind, but what came out was: "Alexander, could you lend me another $300,000?"
He froze, anger flashing in his cold eyes. He grabbed my wrist: "After seven years, this is all you have to say?"
The needle marks on my wrist stung sharply. Taking a deep breath, I said softly: "Oh, don't worry about the money, Mr. Morgan. I'm sure your girlfriend would hate to see you wasting time on your ex."
Alexander looked bewildered, his expression complicated. Before he could speak, Emily wrapped her arms around his: "Darling, is this your ex-wife?"
Emily looked at me with pity: "What can $300,000 even buy? The shoes Alexander buys me cost $500,000!"
"It's such a shame you didn't treasure him, Sarah. If you hadn't heartlessly abandoned him, I would never have met him."
I remained silent, my thoughts drifting to the past. Alexander and I met in college. We were together for five years. Back then, he wasn't a billionaire entrepreneur. And my health wasn't as poor as it is now.
Two orphaned college students who finally found someone who cared deeply about them. We worked hard to build our little family.
Just as our careers were taking off, Alexander was diagnosed with severe heart disease. The treatment and transplant surgery required a fortune. We spent all our savings meant for our business.
To gather medical expenses, I worked multiple jobs daily, ate once a day, stretched every dollar. I worked tirelessly just to save enough for his medicine. We even switched to the cheapest generic drugs.
But we still couldn't find a suitable heart.
As I watched Alexander grow thinner, watching him waste away day by day, reaching despair's edge, the doctor found me. They said they had found a match. The person whose heart matched Alexander's was me.
My thoughts returned to the present.
Alexander kissed Emily's forehead tenderly, his eyes full of gentleness: "If she hadn't been so heartless, I would never have met my little angel."
"Baby, remember that Birkin you were eyeing? Consider it yours. And next time, don't hold back - money's no object for us."
Watching them, the needle marks on my wrist seemed to pierce my heart, making it hard to breathe.
I pulled my hand free from Alexander's grip, no longer wanting to be a reference point for their love story.
As I turned to leave, Emily deliberately stuck out her foot, tripping me. "Oh my, Sarah, you should be more careful!"
I fell to my knees, my medical reports scattering at Alexander's feet. Seeing my fall, his expression tightened, instinctively reaching out to help me.
Emily grabbed his hand, exclaiming: "What's this?"
Alexander's attention was drawn to the reports on the ground. He picked them up, scanning quickly.
"Artificial heart replacement..."
Anger flashed across his face. He threw the medical reports in my face.
"Really, Sarah? Fabricating medical records to squeeze money out of me? That's a new low, even for you."
Chapter 2
"You're exactly the same as seven years ago - everything's about money with you!"
I stood up, looking at Alexander's healthy physique. A faint smile crossed my lips as I picked up my medical records.
"Since you know how much I love money, Mr. Morgan, perhaps you'd like to lend me more?"
Emily burst into tears, clutching his strong arm while shooting me a look full of mockery and malice.
"Darling, what if she's telling the truth?" she sniffled. "Besides... it was Sarah who abandoned you, and then that kind donor's heart saved your life! Shouldn't we help her?"
Her words seemed to remind Alexander of how I had supposedly left him for money. The anger and hesitation in his eyes instantly froze over.
"A donor's heart can't save someone without a shred of humanity. She doesn't deserve it."
As Alexander turned to leave with Emily, she continued pleading. But in the split second she looked back at me, her lips curled into a cruel smirk.
I picked up my medical records, now covered in Emily's footprints. Suddenly, my artificial heart began to flutter unnaturally. My vision blurred as they walked away. After a while, I wiped the blood from my lips, staring at the words "artificial heart replacement."
My fingers traced the seven-year-old scar across my chest. Alexander still didn't know - the heart beating in his chest was mine.
Seven years ago, when we couldn't find a matching donor, Alexander grew weaker by the day. Artificial heart technology wasn't advanced then. In theory, it could sustain basic life functions, but the risks were numerous.
After learning I was a match, I arranged to give him my heart. I received the cheapest artificial heart with a theoretical lifespan of seven years - it was all we could afford.
Since then, my chest would randomly seize with pain. Coughing up blood and sudden weakness became my new normal. Without money, I kept postponing the surgery for a newer artificial heart.
Now, seven years had passed. The artificial heart in my chest sent its seventh warning pulse. I knew it had reached its limit.
After leaving the hospital, I returned to my rented apartment. The room was small, damp, and freezing in winter, sweltering in summer - but the rent was cheap. This was where Alexander and I once lived, where we'd dreamed about our future together.
When I learned my heart was a match for his, I pretended to be a gold digger and handed him divorce papers.
We'd been together for five years. Through all the hardships, I never complained once, staying faithfully by his side. He knew how deeply I loved him and couldn't believe I would leave. And I knew he loved me to his core.
If he had known the truth, he would never have let me trade my life for his. So I had to be cruel, pretending I'd had enough - enough of the endless struggles by his side, enough of living without hope, enough of generic medications, one meal a day, drinking tap water when thirsty, eating stale bread when hungry, stretching every dollar until it screamed.
I told him I was done with it all.
I still remember that day - this proud man who had never feared hardship or pain broke down crying as he signed the divorce papers.
And I signed my organ donation forms.
After the surgery, I accepted my role as the villain and left Alexander completely, returning to this shabby apartment where we'd spent those five years together. I quietly waited for the death I had chosen.
I never expected to see Alexander again.
Now he's become everything we once dreamed about together, while I can never go back. Seeing his confident image in the news brings a bittersweet ache to my chest - pain mixed with pride in what he's achieved.
My phone interrupted my memories - it was the bank. They said the $200,000 transfer was an "operational error" and I needed to return it immediately or face criminal charges.
I hung up with a bitter smile, then called my best friend Rachel to help me find work to repay the debt. Alexander hates me so much, he'd probably be delighted to watch me struggle with installment payments.
Due to my heart condition, I'm often too weak for most jobs. I can only take occasional part-time work.
Rachel, knowing my condition, found me a job as a banquet server. It was relatively easy work, paying $500 per day.
As I put on the server's uniform and mask, preparing to serve drinks at the event...
Chapter 3
I saw Alexander again.
He stood tall in his bespoke Tom Ford suit, commanding the room with his presence. By his side, Emily wore a stunning Dior gown, the picture of grace. They moved through the crowd like Hollywood royalty, surrounded by admirers.
I lowered my head after one glance. Alexander didn't recognize me as I served drinks, but before I could slip away, Emily's voice cut through the air:
"Are you blind? You spilled wine on my dress!"
I froze, noticing the wet spot on her gown's hem. Without a word, I kept my head down and tried to dab the stain with a napkin.
Alexander watched me, his brows furrowed, lips pressed into a hard line.
Emily's eyes gleamed with malice. Suddenly, she kicked me in the chest. Sharp pain shot through my body as I collapsed, crying out involuntarily.
"Don't touch me with your filthy hands! Security, get her out!"
Emily's face showed rage, but she couldn't hide her smirk of satisfaction.
Though only my eyes were visible above my mask, Alexander recognized me in that split second. Something flickered in his eyes - pain, quickly replaced by contempt. He waved off security and yanked down my mask.
"Sarah, not even a hello for your ex-husband?"
Emily pretended to just recognize me, hurriedly pulling me up. "Oh, Sarah! Aren't you Alexander's ex-wife? How did you end up serving at events?"
The ballroom fell silent. All eyes turned to me, followed by waves of whispered mockery.
"Isn't she the one who abandoned him for money when he was struggling?" "Karma's a bitch." "From trophy wife to waitress - serves her right!"
Someone threw their wine at my head. Then it came from all directions - wine splashing, glasses shattering against my body. Dark red wine mixed with blood on the marble floor.
Clearly, these people eager to curry favor with Alexander wanted to punish me on his behalf.
Blood trickled down my face, but I felt no pain. I remained silent.
Alexander's eyes were glacial. "What's wrong, Sarah? Do I need to pay you to speak now?"
He laughed coldly, echoed by the crowd's sneers.
"You're working here to beg me for money, right? Let me help!" He gestured for servers to bring several bottles of expensive wine. "Drink all of these, and I'll give you $300,000."
He threw cash on the wine-stained floor, the bills soaking up the red liquid.
The crowd watched with cruel amusement, eager for the show.
Since receiving the artificial heart, my body had grown so weak I could barely lift anything heavy. I couldn't run or jump - even walking left me breathless. And alcohol, which normal people used to numb their pain, could cause my artificial heart to fail.
I looked up at him, managing a slight smile. "I guess this means I don't have to return that $200,000?"
Alexander's cold expression cracked for a moment, anger flaring in his eyes. Through gritted teeth, he spat: "Fine!"
At his response, I smiled and began drinking straight from the bottle.
My body, already failing, wasn't supposed to handle even a drop of alcohol - doctor's orders. The burning liquid filled my mouth, and my body instinctively tried to reject it. I forced myself to swallow, then reached for another bottle, and another.
The crowd watched with cruel amusement at this spectacle. Only Alexander's expression gradually darkened, storm clouds gathering in his eyes.
As I reached for yet another bottle, Alexander finally grabbed my hand.
"Is this what it's come to, Sarah? You'll die without money?" His voice was raw with emotion.
Looking into his bloodshot eyes, I nodded. "You're right. Without money, I will die."
He shoved me away in fury. "Fine! Then drink it all. Drink until you've had enough!"
My body felt like it was weighted with lead. The artificial heart in my chest seemed to stutter. I managed a weak smile, took a shallow breath, and reached for another bottle.
Alexander finally snapped. He knocked the bottle from my hand with a primal roar: "ENOUGH!"
My body gave out, and I collapsed onto the floor. Shards of broken glass cut into my skin, staining the marble floor crimson.
Rachel, my best friend, burst through the crowd. She gathered me in her arms, terrified, and screamed at Alexander:
"You're alive because her heart is beating in YOUR chest, Alexander! That artificial thing keeping her alive can't handle alcohol - you're literally killing her!"
