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Secrets Of The Broken Genius Bride Novel Cover

Secrets Of The Broken Genius Bride

I sold myself to a paralyzed billionaire to pay for my mother's life support. But my step-sister staged a photo of me with another man, making my new husband think I was a cheating gold-digger. In a jealous rage, Curtis locked me in a dark panic room. While trapped, my step-mother sent a picture of her hand on my mom's ventilator plug, forcing me to sneak out to a black-market clinic. There, they forcibly drained 800cc of my blood to sell. Half-dead and in severe shock, I dragged myself back home, only for Curtis to confront me with another staged photo of my ex grabbing me outside the clinic. Believing I had snuck out to see a lover, he ordered his guards to throw my blood-drained body into the freezing wine cellar. "Please, don't put me down there! I'll die!" I begged and clung to his wheelchair, but he just kicked my hand away in absolute disgust. In the pitch-black, 55-degree room, my organs slowly shut down. I didn't understand why I had to endure this hell, or why he was so blinded by his own fragile ego that he never even noticed how chalk-white my face was. Hours later, his precious sister needed an emergency transfusion, and they dragged my icy body out to drain me again. But when the doctor rolled up my sleeve and exposed the horrific, bruised puncture wound, Curtis finally realized the truth. As he stared at my arm in absolute, paralyzed terror, the EKG machine attached to my chest flatlined.
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Chapter 7

Allie stared at the photo of Glendora's hand on the ventilator cord. Her heart seized in her chest, completely cutting off her air supply.

She scrambled off the cot. She didn't even look for her coat. She stumbled out of the panic room, her legs feeling like lead.

The top-floor hallway was empty. She knew the main elevators were heavily monitored by Curtis's security. Relying on her memory of the penthouse layout, she sprinted toward the kitchen, pushing through the swinging doors to find the emergency exit stairwell connected to the freight elevator.

She leaned her entire body weight against the heavy fire door, forcing it open, and started stumbling down the narrow, dimly lit concrete stairs. Her cheap heels clacked too loudly and made her already trembling legs dangerously unstable. She kicked them off, leaving them on the landing, and continued descending barefoot, her hands dragging against the rough wall to keep herself from collapsing. The freezing concrete bit into the soles of her feet, but the numbness of her starvation overshadowed the pain.

She bypassed the main lobby, slipping through a ventilation maintenance gate in the underground garage, and dragged her exhausted body out onto the chaotic Manhattan street.

She practically collapsed against the side of a yellow cab that had just pulled over.

"Upper East Side. The private clinic on 82nd," Allie gasped, throwing herself into the backseat. She dug into her pockets, pulled out the few crumpled twenty-dollar bills she had, and shoved them through the partition. "Run the red lights. Please!"

The cab screeched to a halt at the back alley entrance of the notorious private clinic. Allie shoved the door open and staggered inside, ignoring the receptionist as she used the hallway walls to support her failing body, inching her way desperately toward the VVIP wing. Her vision was already beginning to swim with black spots, and she was surviving purely on the adrenaline of her mother's ticking clock.

The moment she stepped off the elevator, a hand shot out, grabbed a fistful of her hair, and slammed her violently against the hallway wall.

"Ah!" Allie cried out, her head bouncing off the drywall with a sickening thud.

Glendora stood over her, her face twisted in an ugly sneer.

"You useless piece of trash," Glendora hissed. "You disappear for a whole day? My Brittanie had to suffer for hours because you wouldn't answer your phone!"

Allie ignored the blinding pain in her scalp. She grabbed Glendora's wrist with both hands, her eyes red and wild.

"Show me the video," Allie demanded, her voice shaking. "Show me the live feed of the ventilator. Now."

Glendora sneered. She pulled out her phone and tapped the screen, holding it up.

The live feed showed Danae lying perfectly still in the hospital bed. The machine was pumping rhythmically. The plug was in the wall.

Allie's tense muscles instantly gave out. She slumped against the wall, cold sweat soaking through the back of her thin dress.

The door to the VVIP suite opened. A man in a white coat with shifty eyes stepped out. He was a black-market doctor, operating completely outside of medical board regulations.

"Is the donor ready? We are losing time," the doctor said impatiently.

Two massive orderlies stepped out behind him. They grabbed Allie by the arms and dragged her into the adjacent blood-draw room, shoving her down into a freezing, stainless-steel medical chair.

Through the glass partition, Allie could see into the next room. Brittanie was sitting up in bed, scrolling on her phone, her cheeks flushed and perfectly healthy.

"She's not sick!" Allie screamed, struggling against the orderlies. "You're lying! You're just selling my blood to the black market!"

Glendora walked up and slapped Allie hard across the face. The sharp crack echoed in the sterile room.

"Watch your mouth," Glendora whispered maliciously. "Remember who holds your crazy mother's life in their hands."

The doctor didn't hesitate. He swabbed Allie's arm and jammed a massive, thick needle directly into her vein.

Dark red blood immediately began flowing through the tube into the collection bag.

Allie hadn't eaten or drank anything in over twenty-four hours. As the blood rapidly drained from her body, the room began to spin violently. Black spots danced at the edges of her vision.

The first 400cc bag filled up quickly. Allie let out a weak breath, thinking it was over. She tried to pull her arm away.

The orderly slammed his hand down on her shoulder, pinning her in place.

The doctor calmly swapped the full bag for a completely empty one.

"What are you doing?" Allie gasped, her eyes widening in pure horror. "You can't... I haven't eaten... it will kill me."

Glendora leaned down, her face inches from Allie's ear.

"I have a buyer who needs 800cc today," Glendora whispered like a demon. "If you die, I'll just send your mother's body to the county morgue."

That sentence shattered the last remaining piece of Allie's will to fight.

She closed her eyes. Tears of absolute despair slid down her pale cheeks. She went completely limp in the chair, allowing them to drain her life away.

As the second bag swelled with her blood, the last trace of color vanished from Allie's lips. Her breathing became incredibly shallow, her chest barely moving.

The heart monitor attached to her finger began to beep frantically as her blood pressure plummeted.

The doctor frowned, looking at the numbers. He quickly pulled the needle out. "That's it. Any more and she goes into hypovolemic shock."

Glendora grabbed the two heavy bags of blood. She looked at Allie's half-dead body with pure disgust, then turned toward the doctor. "Lock this door from the outside. Let her rot in here until we get paid. If she dies, just dump her in the alley," she commanded. walked out with the doctor, the heavy click of the deadbolt echoing ominously as they sealed her inside the freezing room.

Allie was left completely alone in the freezing room. No bandage was applied to her arm. No juice, no glucose was offered.

She slowly raised her trembling right hand and pressed her thumb hard against the bleeding puncture wound on her left arm.

She forced her eyes open, fighting the crushing wave of unconsciousness. She had to get back.

She pushed herself off the chair. The moment her bare feet touched the floor and she stood up, the world tilted sideways.

Her legs buckled instantly. Allie collapsed heavily onto the freezing tile floor, her vision fading to black.

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