My Rescue Was Their Reunion, My Hell Was Their Project Chapter 04

My Rescue Was Their Reunion, My Hell Was Their Project Chapter 04

But no one listened. Chloe’s voice — thin, fragile — floated in from the next room, and all three men rushed away.

I dragged myself to the doorway of Chloe’s room.

She was leaning against Julian’s chest, tears still wet on her cheeks. “Don’t force Elena… this is all my fault. I’d rather die than take her blood.”

“You’re too kind for this, Chloe.” Julian’s hand smoothed her hair. “None of this is your fault.”

“Elena did this,” Arthur said quietly. “Not you.”

They surrounded her with tenderness, with worry. The same men who’d just pinned me down and shoved a needle in my arm.

I watched from the doorway and felt nothing. Whatever was left inside me had already broken.

The hospital found a donor. Chloe stabilized.

I thought that would be the end of it.

Something cold touched my arm in the dark and woke me. A needle slid in. Whatever they injected hit fast — my thoughts blurred at the edges, and the room began to dissolve.

Voices. Familiar ones.

Arthur first. “My sedative works quickly. She should be out by now.”

Then Julian, flat and certain. “Chloe’s too soft-hearted to take her blood. But Elena forced Chloe to slit her wrists. She owes Chloe blood, so we take hers.”

And Nolan. “I’ll drain 800 milliliters and dump it. She doesn’t deserve to keep it.”

A tear slid down my temple. Then everything went black.

I came to, shivering, my skull throbbing.

[Host. Detachment countdown: 32 hours remaining.]

Fresh needle marks covered my wrist. I tried to lift my hand and couldn’t.

Julian was there when I opened my eyes. He didn’t ask how I felt.

“Chloe was saved, but her depression’s gotten worse.” He said it like he was giving a weather report. “The doctor says the person who caused the trauma has to prove she’s changed. So tomorrow — at Chloe’s wedding to me — you’ll be there. As her bridesmaid.”

He let that sit.

“Once she sees that you genuinely support the ceremony, her guilt eases. Her depression lifts.”

His voice softened — the kind of softness that cost him nothing. “After the wedding, I’ll marry you. We’ll make it right. Everything goes back to the way it was.”

I didn’t argue. Didn’t cry. Just looked at him.

“Okay.”

That threw him off — but only for a second. Then the sneer came back. He thought I was too in love to walk away.