Born As Kidney Donor For My Sister

On the day Jamie was discharged from the hospital, reporters swarmed tl entrance, blocking the way.

“Mr. Riley, are your injuries the result of Ms. Harris’s actions?”

Sylvia stood nearby, fuming. “She’s the one who did this! This woman is utterly malicious.”

Jamie smiled silently, tacitly agreeing with Sylvia’s claim.

In the distance, a black Cayenne was parked, and I sat inside the car, watching the scene unfold.

My phone rang suddenly, I looked down to see who was calling My father.

He wanted me to attend an internal meeting of the city’s prominent families, scheduled for tonight.

Such meetings are usually beyond my reach, but today, the gravity of my conflict with Jamie had warranted my presence.

The evening’s agenda was to discuss how can we join forces to deal with Jamie and drive him. out of Wilmington.

The key figures from The Harris family, The Romero family, and The Cress family were all present, with only Gavin and me among the younger generation.

Clearly, The Riley family’s situation was more complex than expected.

Throughout the meeting, I kept my head down and said nothing.

Afterward, my father suddenly asked, “Ellen, what are your thoughts?”

Earlier, my father had suggested using the engagement to pressure Jamie, ideally marrying him to bind our interests.

He had little faith in the sincerity of The Romero family and The Cress family’s cooperation, nor in Jamie’s willingness to spare The Harris family out of past connections. He only trusted immediate gains.

I was not in a position to oppose his orders, so I could only agree for now.

I texted Jamie, advising him to ccept the invitation and play along if absolutely necessary.

Father invited Jamie to The Harris family’s old residence for a reunion, even if it was a trap, he had to come–no risk, no gain.

I sat aside, listening to how my father would threaten Jamie to marry me.

As a party to the matter, I had no say.

Jamie was resolute: “I will not marry Ellen.”

Even though I knew it was all a performance, hearing those words still struck a chord, as if they were genuinely heartfelt.

The man before me was aloof and proud, holding himself with dignity, e n in front of my father.

If, and I mean if, it’s possible, we might never get married.

With a single glance from my father, eight bodyguards, all seasoned fighters, surrounded Jamie.

It seemed he was moving from subtle to forceful, and I couldn’t help but feel a surge of anxiety, my fists clenched in secret.

Against overwhelming numbers, Jamie was soon subdued and pinned to the ground.

My father’s gaze was icy as he looked down at him, radiating an unyielding authority.

“Lock him up for now. Let mel ow when he changes his mind.”Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.

Following the order, the bodyguards escorted

Jamie to a locked room on the second floor.

Watching them ascend, the heavy iron door slammed shut, jolting my memory back to my childhood.

My mother had been beaten to death behind that very door, and I had once been locked inside for three days and nights.

My mother was punished for talking too much with the family chauffeur, while I was locked up for missing curfew due to tutoring a male classmate.

My father’s control was extreme, and I had spent years trying to escape his grasp

As Jamie said, the one hundred million my father gave me wasn’t because of my pleading.

It was to satisfy his twisted pleasure in manipulating others, relishing in watching someone struggle in the mire. The more someone struggled, the more he enjoyed it.