Spoiling His Reluctant Runaway Bride

Serena sat in the hallway, eyes locked on the red "Surgery in Progress" sign glowing above the operating room door, fidgeting nonstop.

Eleanor was rushed in for emergency surgery due to a sudden organ infection.

Finally, a nurse came out.

"What's going on with Eleanor? Is she okay?"

Serena lunged forward, clutching the nurse's sleeve like it was her last lifeline.

"There's more bleeding than expected. Blood bank's empty-we're trying to get more ASAP."

The nurse's words were clipped and anxious.

Serena didn't hesitate. She rolled up her sleeve with a determined look. "You can take mine. Seriously. I'm sure it'll work."

"Alright, but we need to test your blood type first."

Serena knew from when Douglas Dawson had been hospitalized before that her blood type didn't match his.

But the test result still hit her like a truck: Eleanor was type B, and she was type A.

Her blood wasn't a match either.

Holding the test paper, Serena wandered to the doctor's office in a daze.

"Dr. Porter..." she started, her voice scratchy. "If the dad has O-type, and the mom has B-type, could their kid be A-type, like... ever?"

"Genetically, no. If you're unsure, a DNA test could confirm it."

"No need," Serena murmured, waving weakly before walking out.

She got it now. She wasn't their biological child.

Douglas used to come home drunk and hit her without warning, cursing like she was his worst enemy.

She'd curl up in a corner, biting her lip to stop from crying. If the pain got too much, she'd scream, "If you hate me so much, why even have me?"

And every time, Eleanor would stare at her in silence for a long time. Then, once their eyes met, she'd freak out and bolt.

The two of them, called "parents," though the title never really fit, would often stay up late, crying together like they shared some deep sorrow.

Sometimes, while patching up Serena's wounds, Eleanor would whisper, "Don't blame your dad," and then nothing more.

Serena always thought her existence was a mistake, that she was just... in the way.

Even a beast wouldn't hurt its own baby. If she was really theirs, how could Douglas push her to marry some old man old enough to be his buddy?

Meanwhile, Matthew was flipping through files on their current joint project when Lucas knocked lightly and stepped in.

"Mr. Quinn, these just came in from the hospital. Blood test results."

Matthew skimmed them and let out a dry chuckle, lips curling. "No wonder they're forcing her to marry-they're not even related."

Guess he'd been overthinking it. That woman didn't crash his wedding on purpose.

He sat in silence for a beat, then frowned. "How long is this trip supposed to last?"

"Seven days total," Lucas replied confidently.

"That's way too long. Push things around. I need to be back in three. I'm getting married."

"Married? You mean-"

"Go stir things up for Serena. And Dylan, too." Matthew's grin turned wicked.

"Ms. Dawson, Dr. Porter wants to see you," a nurse said as she tapped Serena gently on the shoulder. She'd dozed off waiting.

It was already morning.

In the office, Dr. Porter's face was unreadable. "Just to be clear, we need payment for your father's resuscitation and your mother's current treatments. By day after tomorrow, or we'll have to stop the meds."

"I know," Serena nodded quickly, flustered. "Dr. Porter, I..."

But the doctor didn't wait. He handed over a stack of bills. "Here's the invoice. You'll need to come up with the money."