Chapter 3

I had a nightmare when I was unconscious. It brought me back to that night ten years ago, and I even saw my father suffering from his illness. Then, countless scenes flashed through my mind until Cyrus' icy expression finally revealed itself. I woke up with a jolt and recognized the disinfectant scent of a hospital. A nurse had just entered the ward. Seeing I was awake, she cast me a look of disdain. "Look who's finally awake. Mr. Gaultier arranged the best specialist doctor for you. Your stomach's condition isn't serious, but you must rest properly." The contempt in her tone was plain. I ignored her, asking, "Where's my phone?" The nurse hesitated, but she still took ‌my phone from the drawer beside my bed and handed it to me. As soon as I turned it on, notifications from news and social media outlets started popping up on the screen. One headline read, "Wealthy family feud: The Gaultiers' adopted daughter refuses kidney donation for sister, faints in dramatic plot!" Another read, "The epitome of ungratefulness? Susie Sloan, the former heiress of the Gaultiers, is cold-hearted, yet still receives care from the family." The next wrote, "Exclusive commentary: How much are family ties truly worth when it comes to self-interest?" Every news article was flooded with tens of thousands of comments. I had become an ungrateful wretch. On the other hand, the Gaultiers, especially Cyrus, were portrayed as saints for graciously arranging my treatment even after I caused such a scene. I curled up on the hospital bed. As I read the news articles one by one, my body trembled in anger. Suddenly, the door was gently opened, and in came Cyrus with a thermos. He wore a beige sweater and had a weary look on his face, acting just like a devoted brother who was worried sick about his sister. He skillfully uncapped the thermos and poured a fragrant concoction into a bowl. "Hey. The doctor says you're only allowed to take fluids for the next few days. I've asked the housekeeper to make you some chowder. Here, have some," Cyrus said gently, bringing the bowl to me. Instead of taking it, I glared at him. However, he simply continued with his act as if oblivious to the hatred in my eyes. When Cyrus finally noticed my lack of response, he snapped out of it and slammed the bowl hard on the bedside table. "Susie, how long are you planning to keep this up? Your father saw the news and got so emotional that his heart condition relapsed. He's unconscious now," announced Cyrus coldly. In that moment, I felt as if my world had collapsed. I bit my lip so hard that I could taste the metallic taste of blood. When I finally recollected myself, I questioned, "Are you satisfied now, Cyrus?" I glared at him in fury, wishing I could tear him apart with my eyes. However, he simply watched me calmly, unaffected by my anger. Cyrus explained flatly, "As long as you give your word, I'll send in the country's best cardiac specialist to operate on your father. Our family will handle the rest of his medical bills. "Susie, this is a chance for you to save him and yourself." Tears welled in my eyes, but I held them back. Wiping off a tear, I smiled and answered calmly, "Sure. Let's talk about the terms." My calmness took Cyrus by surprise. With my eyes still fixed on him, I began listing out the hardships I had endured for the past ten years. "Ever since I got thrown out, I worked like a dog so I could pay for my dad's costly surgery. I washed dishes in restaurants, standing for over ten hours a day with my hands constantly submerged in freezing detergent water. My hands were always covered in chilblains every winter. "I carried bricks at construction sites, distributed flyers, slept in the cheapest basement, and survived on other people's leftovers. I lived a life you people look down on. "While you and Caitlyn were enjoying your extravagant lives under the spotlight, my father and I were fighting just to stay alive. And now you want to use my father's life to save your sister's? Do you think this is fair?" Cyrus avoided my gaze as if he did not know what to say. What I said was the truth; the rich and the poor lived different lives. After a moment of silence, I continued, "My terms are simple. First, I want to see my dad transferred to the best private hospital. After the surgery, I will have nothing to do with your family, and I don't want to see you in my life ever again." With that, we came to an agreement. It was not that I wanted to let them have their way. I just understood one thing—sometimes, compromise was the only way. Ten years ago, I had nothing and was thrown out. But things were different now. I had my father, and I had to at least save him.