Chapter 2

A notification pinged on Ethan's cheap phone the next morning. "$20,000 deposited. Olivia Chen."

He stared at it. Guilt money? A way to silence him? He didn't care. It was a lifeline.

He used it immediately, a down payment for the critical maintenance, a temporary reprieve. The doctors were grim, "This buys you weeks, maybe a month or two. You need a new unit, Ethan. And a place on the transplant list."

A place he couldn't afford, for a heart that likely didn't exist for his rare blood type.

Later, waiting for a follow-up, the sterile scent of the hospital thick in his throat, he saw her. Olivia, still in her gala gown from the night before, looking out of place and agitated. She was with Liam, her current boyfriend, a young, handsome man who was complaining loudly about "food poisoning" from some exclusive restaurant.

Olivia spotted Ethan. Her eyes, once full of warmth for him, now held a mixture of disdain and something else he couldn't name.

She walked over, Liam trailing like a shadow.

"Ethan," she said, her voice low and tight. "What are you doing here?"

Before he could answer, Liam drawled, "Probably looking for another handout, Liv. Some people have no shame."

Ethan ignored him, looking at Olivia. The $20,000 was a start, but not enough. Not nearly enough.

"I need more, Olivia," he said, the desperation raw. "Another $30,000. Please."

Olivia recoiled slightly. "For what, Ethan? More get-rich-quick schemes that fail?"

A wave of dizziness hit him. He remembered a different Olivia, one who believed in him, in them. They were in their tiny, shared apartment, papers spread everywhere, the beginnings of a tech idea that she would later turn into a giant. She'd coughed, a small, persistent thing then. He remembered her hand in his, her fear when the doctors first said "heart failure."

He remembered the clandestine meetings with surgeons, the forms signed in secret, the crushing weight of the decision. He would give her his heart. His actual, beating heart. To make it work, to ensure she never knew, he had to become a monster in her eyes. He'd told her he got a big job offer, that he was tired of being poor, tired of her illness dragging him down. The words had torn him apart, but her shocked, betrayed face had been the image seared into his mind, the price of her life.

"It's for medical bills," he managed, his voice weak.

Liam scoffed. "Medical bills? You look fine to me. Just a bit down on your luck, mate."