My Don Steal My Eggs and Use Me as My Sister’s Blood Bank

I never imagined that the man who dropped to one knee before everyone and insisted on marrying me was the same man who had personally sent me to that operating table. For three years, I believed Luca Andre loved me. On the fifteenth of every month, he held my hand and took me to the Andre family's private clinic for a "checkup." After every blood draw, he kissed my forehead and murmured, "Don't be afraid. It'll be over soon." Then one afternoon, I accidentally opened the laboratory surveillance files on the computer in his study. The footage showed me on the night before our wedding, strapped to an operating table inside a cold-storage warehouse at the New Jersey docks. A doctor was preparing to harvest my eggs without anesthesia. Luca stood beside the table, his expression cold and indifferent. "Take them. Make sure it works." In the next recording, my eggs were implanted in my older sister. Luca bent down and kissed her rounded belly. Later, the Andre family's heirloom gold chain encircled the baby's wrist—the same one Luca had once promised would belong to "our child." That was when I finally understood. For three years, those so-called checkups had been nothing more than sched…

Oleh White