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I Left with Nothing but Myself Novel Cover

I Left with Nothing but Myself

After nine years of marriage, Damian Grant betrays his wife on their anniversary by demanding she serve his pregnant assistant. Expected to cook for his mistress and vacate her own bedroom, she refuses to play the martyr. While Damian and his associates bet on her desperate return, she secretly secures her true father's legacy. This modern mafia romance follows her silent departure as she boards a flight to a new life, leaving her cold husband and his cruel world behind forever.
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Chapter 2

When I saw the black Rolls-Royce parked outside the estate walls, I instinctively picked up my pace.

Still, before I could step out the gate, two of Damian’s men appeared out of nowhere. They seized me, one on each side, and dragged me back into the villa.

In the study, Damian had me tightly bound, and ordered someone to gag me with a cloth.

The family doctor arrived shortly after. He inserted a thick needle into my arm. The syringe was almost as wide as a baby’s forearm.

After drawing a full vial of blood, the doctor headed for the door. Through the half-open door, I heard him speak quietly to Damian.

“Mr. Grant, while Miss Turner and Miss Lane do share a rare blood type, Miss Turner has had asthma since childhood. What you’re doing could very likely trigger shock…”

“Don’t waste my time with hypotheticals.”

Damian’s voice was cold and unflinching.

“Your job is to stabilize Serena’s condition. I’ll handle everything else.”

After a while, the doctor came back. He inserted a thick needle into my arm again.

Damian’s footsteps were light and steady. He stood in front of me. His expensive leather shoes were still perfectly polished. I kept my eyes closed as I was afraid to look up.

“Does it hurt?” Damian gently lifted my chin. His fingers brushed across my split lip.

His tone was almost tender.

“Just bear with it for a little longer. It’ll be over soon.”

A bitter laugh slipped from my throat. I muttered two words, “Forget it.”

Let this blood be the price I paid for the love he once gave me.

By the time twenty ounces had been drawn, my lips had turned purple. My body was cold, and I was gasping for air.

I thought that was the end of it. However, just then, Serena started coughing from the master bedroom.

Damian had been about to pull me into his arms, but that sound changed everything.

Without a second thought, he stopped the doctor from removing the needle and ordered him to draw double the amount.

The doctor was horrified. He reminded him in a low voice, “Mr. Grant, if you do that, she might suffer long-term damage.”

The air stiffened for a moment before Damian replied, “Serena is pregnant. She's the priority.”

“But…” The doctor tried to protest.

I interrupted him. My voice was hoarse and trembling, “Just do it. Once you’re done, let me leave.”

Damian looked at my paper-white face, rubbed his brow, and said coldly, “Are you done throwing your tantrum yet?

“You’d really leave me over something this small? Even after you lied to me…”

I never got a chance to respond. The moment Serena cooed his name from the bedroom, he left without a second thought, quick and light on his feet.

I watched him from behind and remembered how much we used to love each other.

During the first snow of a previous winter, I had a high fever and was slipping in and out of consciousness. Damian had driven through the night just to get to me. He carried me into the hospital on his back, fed me medicine, and never left my side.

He once said to me, “You’re the most important part of my life.”

I believed him.

He used to kiss me like he was losing his mind, pressing me against the tall window and whispering in a husky voice, “Let’s stay like this forever. Just the two of us, okay?”

Now, he left without even glancing back.

When did things start to change?

It was on the day he stumbled across that agreement.

The one between my family and the Grant family’s Don, his father, Victor Grant.

It laid everything bare. The Grant family would rescue my bankrupt family in exchange for my marriage to Damian.

That day, he stood at the doorway of the study, gripping the document with trembling fingers. The look on his face was as cold as ice.

I ran toward him and explained, “I didn’t even know it existed! I married you because I loved you. I never lied to you!”

However, his eyes were cold and distant. “You were nothing but a beautifully wrapped bargaining chip from the start.”

That was the moment he built a wall between us with his own hands.

From then on, he never held me or kissed me again.

When he looked at me, all I saw was suspicion and indifference.

All the tenderness, all those promises of him protecting me for the rest of his life had turned into this one cruel sentence: “Are you done throwing your tantrum yet?”

I tried to melt his heart with love and with everything I had.

I tried so hard to bring us back to what we once were.

Damian, I was tired out. I was too tired to love you anymore.

I closed my eyes and let the darkness swallow me whole.

…

Two days later.

I woke up in a hospital bed, still recovering from shock. As I sat up, I saw Damian going through documents beside me.

Our eyes met and lingered.

He walked over with a bowl of oatmeal, scooped up a spoonful, and blew on it before bringing it to my lips.

I shook my head. “I can feed myself.”

Damian watched silently as I ate half the bowl. Then, he asked gently, “Do you feel any discomfort?”

I did not answer his question.

Instead, I asked, “Can you pass me my phone?”

My tone must have been too distant and too formal. Damian stared at me for a few seconds before waving for someone to bring it over. When he noticed the dozens of missed calls on my phone screen, he frowned and asked, “Who called you?”

He had never asked me things like that before.

I looked down at my phone and replied simply, “Someone you don’t know.”

He suddenly yanked open the top button of his shirt and grabbed my chin roughly.

His golden-brown eyes flashed with anger, like a lion baring its fangs.

“Claire, how long are you going to keep up this attitude?

“The moment I treat you a little better, you start challenging me again?”

Previously, whenever Damian got angry, I would blame myself and do everything I could to calm him down.

Not anymore.

I was too tired.

I glanced at his phone buzzing on the table and said indifferently,

“It’s Serena. She’s calling you.”

Damian froze for a moment. The fire in his eyes extinguished. He stepped back, adjusted his shirt, and walked out of the room.

The moment he left, my phone rang.

I answered the call, but before I could say a word, the person on the other end anxiously asked, “You promised you’d come find me. Claire, did you change your mind?”

“No. I just ran into an unexpected situation.” I lowered my voice.

“What happened? Are you okay? No. I’m coming to get you myself…”

I cut off his worried rambling with a soft smile.

“Just give me a few more days. That’s all I need. I’ll be there soon.”

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