Vanessa watched his retreating back, her eyes swirling with intense hatred and resentment.


    Dr. Smith gestured for the nurses to leave the room.


    Vanessa''s carefully styled hair was now in disarray, and her makeup was smudged with tears. She looked a mess, a stark contrast to her usual polished elegance.


    Dr. Smith handed her a tissue. "Miss Shannon, I''m sorry you had to go through this, but please understand, this research is a matter of life and death for Mr. Goodwin''s family."


    Vanessa''s head snapped up, her eyes zing with anger. "What do you think I am? A walking blood bank? It was like this ten years ago, and it''s still the same now!"


    Dr. Smith adjusted his sses, his gaze calm. "Miss Shannon, I''m not fully aware of the details of your arrangement ten years ago, but from what I know, Mr. Goodwin haspensated you very well. This was never a one-sided affair."


    Vanessa''s face contorted as if he''d struck a nerve. "So what? Can money buy everything? Can it buy back thest ten years of my life? Can it make up for the love I''ve given? He knows how I feel about him, he knows it was never about the money! And now, he acts like he wants to drain everyst drop of blood from my body."


    Growing more agitated, Vanessa tried to stand, but a wave of dizziness from the blood loss sent her stumbling back into the chair. She pressed a hand to her forehead, the bitterness in her eyes deepening.


    Dr. Smith waited for her to calm down before speaking again. "Miss Shannon, I can''tment on your personal feelings, but factually, you have an agreement with Mr. Goodwin, and we hope you will honor it. I suggest you rest for a while andpose yourself."


    After Dr. Smith left, two nurses entered to stay with her.


    Vanessa bit her lip so hard it nearly bled. She suddenly held out her left arm, revealing the six jagged, faded scars on the inside of her wrist.


    The nurses saw them and exchanged a look, wondering if Mr. Goodwin was the story behind those scars.


    Vanessa stared at them, her expression a mixture of profound self-pity and bitter irony, as if she were mourning a tragedy and mocking her own foolishness at the same time. She closed her eyes, and two tears rolled down her temples. When a nurse offered hepa tissue, she took it calmly, her earlier hysterical outburst gone.


    She looked up with a self-deprecating smile. "He''s right—a transaction. From start


    to finish, it was only ever a transaction." She pulled her sleeve down. "I was the fool."


    Looking up at the two nurses, whose


    eyes were filled with a mixture of


    pity and curiosity, she quickly


    immediately looked away Vanessa smoothed her hair, adjusted her clothes, and grabbed her bag, rising to her feet on unsteady legs.


    "Miss Shannon, do you need help?" one of the nurses asked, rushing to her side.


    "No," Vanessa said coolly, clearly unwilling to be seen as a pitiful wreck by anyone else.


    Eleanor was resting in her office. She was a light sleeper, and when a nurse identally dropped a stack of files outside her door, she woke up. The drama in the phlebotomy room meant nothing to her.


    Just then, there was a knock on her door. Before she could answer, it


    opened, andn''s tall frame filled the doorway. He still looked tired, but


    the raw exhaustion from the moming had settled into a weary calm.  s?novels


    "Do you have a minute?" he asked, his voice low and raspy.