He Slept With Me for Revenge

Chapter 4 Blood Bag

She clicked on the video, her heart dropping as she watched Sebastian stand at the airport exit, holding a bouquet of red roses, his face filled with eager anticipation as Margaret walked toward him.

The post was deleted moments later—Helena knew his friend must have remembered she was following him.

Her eyes bloodshot with rage and grief, she threw her phone across the room, grabbed a baseball bat, and swung it with all her strength at the large wedding portrait hanging in their bedroom.

Glass shattered into a thousand pieces, scattering across the floor.

Her heart felt the same—shattered, broken, so painful she could barely breathe.

*****

She'd just finished having the mess cleaned up when her phone rang again.

Sebastian's voice came through, urgent and frantic. "Helena, get to the hospital right now—it's an emergency!"

Panic surged through her—she automatically assumed something had happened to him.

She rushed to the hospital, her mind racing with worst-case scenarios.

When she arrived, she found Sebastian looking disheveled, his suit torn.

Before she could ask what had happened, he grabbed her arm and pressed her onto a hospital bed. "Doctor! She has a rare blood type—hurry, draw her blood to save Maggie!"

Helena's mind went blank for a moment.

'Sebastian wants me to donate blood to Margaret? Has he completely forgotten I suffer from severe anemia?'

"Sebastian, I can't—" Helena tried to protest, but he was already rushing out the door, calling over his shoulder, "Just donate the blood and go home. I have more important things to take care of."

Watching him race toward Margaret's hospital room, Helena felt as if her blood had turned to ice.

This was the man she'd loved for years—once Margaret was back, she meant nothing to him.

Nurses forced her to donate 16.9 ounces of blood.

Dizzy and weak, she stumbled out of the room, clinging to the wall for support.

As she rounded a corner, she heard a familiar voice—one of Sebastian's friends, trying to calm him down.

"Sebastian, relax. Margaret's just got a few scrapes—she'll be fine."

Sebastian said, his voice filled with irritation, "You don't get it! Maggie's delicate—even a small scratch takes forever to heal. How can I not be worried?"

Just a few scrapes. He'd forced her to donate 16.9 ounces of blood—knowing she was anemic—for a few scrapes.

Helena's legs gave out. She felt lightheaded, her vision blurring as she collapsed to the floor.

Nurses rushed over, surrounding her. "Ma'am, are you okay?"

The commotion caught Sebastian's attention.

He turned around, his eyes widening when he saw her on the ground.

He rushed over, panic evident on his face. "How is she? What's wrong?"

One of the nurses, who'd helped draw Helena's blood earlier, glared at him in disapproval. "She has severe anemia—how could you make her donate blood? That's reckless!"

Sebastian froze, a look of realization dawning on his face. He'd forgotten about her anemia.

He picked her up in his arms, rushing her to a private hospital room.

When Helena woke up, the room was empty.

She pressed the call button, and a nurse came in to check her vitals. "Oh, where's your husband? He was right here a few minutes ago."

Helena let out a bitter laugh.

She didn't need to ask—she knew exactly where Sebastian was. In Margaret's room, of course.

To him, Margaret was his beloved first love.

To her? She was nothing more than a blood bag, a tool to win back the woman he truly cared about.