Isabella spread her arms wide. "Nathan, for your mistress, you pushed your wife to the brink of suicide. I want you to live in guilt and regret forever."
"Fine," Nathan said quickly. "I take it back. As long as you stop making a scene, I’ll allow you not to donate blood to your sister."
Isabella straightened up, her posture firm. She gave a deep sigh of relief as her body relaxed.
The onlookers helped her down from the windowsill.
Isabella, still shaken, leaned against the wall, slowly sliding down to the floor.
No matter what, she had won this round.
Nathan glared at her with a cold, piercing look, then walked away in frustration.
In the hospital room, Victoria lay on the bed, her face ashen. After drinking, the damage to her kidneys had caused metabolic issues—she couldn’t urinate
