Chapter 5 The One Condition

When Luther stepped out of the car, fury rolled off him. The moment he saw Cressida, hatred burned in his eyes. She tried to step back, but he yanked her by the wrist. The cut in her palm took the pressure, and the pain drained the color from her face. "Let go!" she yelled. Luther acted as if he hadn't heard and dragged her into the car. Dread sank through Cressida. "What are you trying to do?" In the rearview mirror, his eyes blazed with murderous intent. "You have the nerve to ask? You pushed Nat out the window. She is in surgery right now, bleeding out. Her blood type is rare. None of the hospitals or blood banks in the city has any. "You made this mess, and now you're going to fix it with your own blood!" Cressida pressed her wounded palm, her voice strained. "I told you I didn't push her. You can check the surveillance footage on my phone if you don't believe me." Luther gave a mirthless laugh. "So you're saying she'd risk her life just to frame you? Are you even worth that?" He stomped on the gas. The jolt slammed her head into the seatback and left her reeling. "Not everyone's as vicious as you! Nat's been kind since she was a kid. You've hated her ever since you came back, and you've been on her case at every turn! You should've died in that mountain dump!" Cressida's head swam, and the metallic taste of blood thickened on her tongue. She had been born an Ashworth, but she had been abducted at two and raised far off in the mountains. The family that had taken her in gave her nothing but beatings and insults. From as long as she could remember, she'd been made to wait on them hand and foot and rarely got a full meal. Daphne alone had shown her true care. She'd shield Cressida from the blows, and when the couple tried to keep Cressida from school, Daphne used her hidden savings to beg the teachers for help. So when the Ashworths finally brought Cressida back, she thought she belonged at last. But whatever she did, her family circled only around Natasha, leaving her, their own flesh and blood, feeling like an intruder. The first time she met Luther, Natasha's cronies had locked her in the school's equipment room. He was the one who found her and got her out. He said, "I'm Luther Strudwick. If you hadn't been abducted, we would've grown up together. From now on, come to me if anything happens. I'll protect you." He meant it. He walked her to school and back every day, and nobody dared lay a hand on her again. Hence, she told herself that returning to the Ashworths hadn't been entirely a curse. At least it had led her to Luther. But now, he was saying he wished she'd died in that mountain dump. Cressida had loved him for years, only to see that to him she was nothing but trouble and a joke. She said nothing. She kept her head down and waited until they reached the hospital. … Luther brought Cressida to a doctor. After the examination, the doctor spoke hesitantly. "Mr. Strudwick, she isn't in any condition to donate blood. She's about four weeks pregnant, and giving blood now could cause a miscarriage." Cressida's eyes widened in disbelief, and even Luther froze where he stood. Thinking back, she realized her period had been over a month late. She'd chalked it up to her erratic schedule and hadn't thought much of it. Doing the math, she remembered that a month ago, after a business function and too much alcohol, Luther had forced himself on her. They hadn't used protection. What was she supposed to do now? She might have only three months to live, and this baby… The exam room went dead quiet. Luther stared at her, ice in his eyes. Cressida's heart sank under his gaze. "You—" Before she could continue, he smirked and turned to the doctor, his tone flat and uncompromising. "Does she even deserve to be carrying my child? Draw her blood. By your own words, it's a risk, not a sure thing. Don't waste time on something this minor. Nothing can happen to Nat." His ice-cold voice sent Cressida's heart plunging. She knew she might never carry the baby to term, but she'd never imagined Luther could shrug off the life of his own child. Years of pent-up hurt rose at once. Her nails bit into her palm as she forced the words out. "Luther, hate me if you want, but this is your child. How can you be this heartless?" Luther's gaze turned icier, a smirk of pure contempt playing at his lips. "Cressida, having you give birth to my child would be the biggest disgrace of my life." Then he turned to the doctor, his tone edged with steel. "What are you waiting for? Draw her blood. If anything happens to Natasha, none of you will be spared." The doctor blanched. He knew how far Luther's reach went, and hesitation flickered in his eyes. After a moment, he forced the words out. "I'm sorry, Ms. Ashworth. Please try to understand…" Cressida's eyes were red-rimmed, and even her fingers were shaking. She knew exactly what Luther was like and didn't want to make things difficult for the medical staff. "Fine. I can donate blood to Natasha." She briefly shut her eyes, her voice hoarse. "But I have one condition." Luther sneered, disgust plain in his eyes. Three years into the marriage, and she was finally showing her true colors. "What do you want? A house? Some other real estate? Stocks? Or do you want me to hand you cash?" he asked.