Blood And Promises Novel by Sabrina Hart Chapter 17

Blood And Promises Novel by Sabrina Hart Chapter 17

Rebecca’s sobbing stopped abruptly.

With trembling hands, she picked up the document, and with just a glance, it was as if she had been struck by lightning; all the blood in her body turned cold.

It was a detailed medical investigation report. It clearly listed her medical visits over the past three years, her medication records, and, most importantly, the joint conclusion from several authoritative hematology department directors: Mrs. Rebecca only suffered from mild iron-deficiency anemia, and there was absolutely no so-called hereditary hemophilia. The previous diagnosis certificates and transfusion records were all forged.

“No… it’s not true… Richie, let me explain…” Rebecca panicked, her words incoherent. “Those doctors misdiagnosed me! I’m fine now, I really am! I don’t need transfusions anymore! We can…”

“Faking a serious illness, fraudulently obtaining special medication quotas, long-term and large-scale deception to acquire others’ blood resources, deceiving the organization, deceiving me.” Richard listed her crimes one by one, and with each accusation, Rebecca’s face grew paler. “Rebecca, do you realize that just these alone are enough to send you to a military tribunal, to spend the rest of your life in prison?”

Richard’s voice finally wavered, a mix of overwhelming fury and regret forming a painful torment. “You pretended to be ill, sought sympathy, and played me for a fool! All because of your pathetic jealousy, you used such despicable means against her! Rattan? Salt? Rebecca, how could you bring yourself to do that?!”

He remembered the photo of Samantha’s face twisted in pain, the shirt soaked in blood, and the lifeless look in her eyes the last time she looked at him… His heart felt as if it were being sliced repeatedly by countless dull knives, the pain nearly making him unable to stand.

All of it was for this vicious and hypocritical woman before him! He had actually hurt the woman who cherished him above all else, who gave him everything, who was as bright and passionate as a flame—Samantha—again and again, all for someone like Rebecca!

Suddenly, Rebecca began to laugh, her laughter shrill and deranged. She stared at the undisguised pain and regret in Richard’s eyes, pain born for another woman. Her last shred of hope was shattered, replaced by bone-deep resentment and madness.

“Yes! I lied to you! I pretended to be sick! Because I love you, Richard! I love you so much it drove me insane! So I wanted to get your attention, but I made the mistake of pushing you toward Samantha. And then? You kept saying you only liked me, but your eyes were already on Samantha! The way you looked at her was different! You didn’t even realize it, did you? You already fell in love with her!”

She screamed, tears mixing with her twisted smile, making her look especially terrifying: “I’m jealous! Madly jealous! Why? I’ve been with you for over ten years, what is Samantha? A newcomer! A replacement! But now? Richard, look closely! You’ve fallen in love with her! But so what? It’s too late! Everything is too late!”

She laughed until she was out of breath, her eyes gleaming with malice: “Look at how you treated her! You didn’t trust her, you hit her for me, you watched her get hurt, you handed her over to me for discipline! Richard, you pushed her away with your own hands! You made her bruised and broken, her heart dead and cold! Who are you putting on this act for now? You regret it? You feel pain? Let me tell you, it’s useless! With Samantha’s personality, she will never forgive you in this lifetime! You will never have her again! This is your retribution! Retribution!”

Every word was like a poisoned dagger, stabbing deep into the most painful, regretful parts of Richard’s heart.

Retribution. Yes, this was his retribution. For the sake of a feigning, malicious woman, he had personally driven away the wife he truly loved. He had been blind and foolish, mistaking the false for the genuine, discarding a true treasure like worthless trash, and had wounded her again and again until she was covered in blood and scars.

Richard said nothing more. He did not even spare Rebecca another glance, as if even one more look would taint him. He turned and walked out of the hospital room step by step, his footsteps as heavy as if he were treading on blades.

Behind him came Rebecca’s hysterical cries and curses, but he could no longer hear them. In his ears, only Samantha’s voice remained, echoing again and again, filled with laughter, tears, and despair.

“Richard, can’t you trust me just once?”

“I wish you and your beloved a long and happy life together, united forever.”

Richard locked himself in his office for three whole days. No sleep, no rest, no food, no water. The curtains were tightly drawn, the lights off; only the flickering glow of cigarette butts illuminated his rapidly hollowing cheeks and bloodshot eyes.

For three days, he replayed every moment since he met Samantha in his mind, like a movie, frame by frame, in slow motion.

When they first met, she was like a blaze breaking into his black-and-white world—bright, unrestrained, impossible to refuse.

On their wedding day, she wore a pure white dress and, amid the crowd’s teasing, secretly pinched his palm, whispering, “Richard, smile for the camera. What do you look like with that stern face?”

She would sneak into his dormitory to help tidy up, only to make a mess, and when he caught her, she would stick out her tongue and argue playfully.

Every time she donated blood, her face would turn pale, but she always forced a smile and said, “I’m fine, I’m really healthy,” then hid away to secretly eat red dates.

When she raised her tear-filled face and asked, “You trust her but not me?” he only thought she was being unreasonable and immature.

In the dim corridor of the hotel, with a nearly calm despair, she made him whip himself three times. And he actually did it for another woman, in front of her, he whipped himself three times.

He shielded her behind him, and when the scalding reagent splashed onto his back, he saw the last glimmer of light in her eyes go out.

When she said, “I wish you a long and happy life together,” what kind of utter despair must she have felt as she left the place she once called home?

And that bloodstained shirt… the one covered in salt… How much pain must she have been in then?

Every memory now became a sharp knife, repeatedly tormenting his heart, already riddled with wounds. A realization that came too late was more painful than eternal ignorance. He finally saw his own heart clearly, saw the love that had long been buried deep within him, and saw the irreparable harm he had caused her.

Too late. Everything was too late.