My fiancée, with whom I've been in a relationship for three years, has threatened to break off our engagement for the hundredth time, forcing me to donate a kidney to her adopted brother, who's faking illness and acting like a hypocrite.
My biological parents even threatened to sever ties with me: "You have a healthy body. Ian has nothing but us. You can't even bear to part with a kidney. You're so selfish and cold-blooded!"
They don't know that my hands, which I used to play the piano, had already been crushed by gangsters while cleaning up their mess; they also don't know that at this moment, I have a critical illness notice for late-stage bone cancer in my pocket.
Seeing the undisguised disgust and indifference in my fiancée's eyes, I swallowed the taste of blood in my throat and calmly signed the consent form for the live organ removal.
"Okay, I'll donate. I'll give you back my life along with it."
Later, I died like a dog on the rusty operating table of a shady clinic, my bones and marrow completely drained.
But when I was truly reduced to dust and left without even a complete corpse... the truth about my vicious foster brother faking illness was exposed.
The aloof and arrogant female CEO who once treated me like trash went completely mad overnight.
She knelt desperately before my nameless grave, plunged a sharp knife into her abdomen, and collapsed in a pool of blood, pleading for me to see her one more time.
