Blurb：
Elara donated bone marrow to save Isabella, hoping to win Lucas’s love. Pregnant with Lucas’s child, she faces unimaginable cruelty when Isabella’s transplant fails. Lucas, the surgeon husband, blames their unborn baby and forces Elara to abort. Betrayed by Lucas, her brother Adrian, and childhood friend Daniel, Elara’s sacrifice turns fatal. In a heart-wrenching tale of love, sacrifice, and revenge, Elara’s death shatters Lucas, who vows to follow her to the grave. Dive into this emotional rollercoaster of forbidden love, medical drama, and tragic romance. Will Lucas’s guilt transform into redemption? Discover the dark secrets behind the bone marrow transplant that cost Elara everything.
Content：
I donated my bone marrow to save the female lead all to earn the favor of the second male lead.
A year later, I bacame pregnant.
Then, the female lead’s suitors showed up at my door, demanding I donate again.
This time, the transplant failed.
The second male lead—who was also the surgeon—blamed my pregnancy. He claimed the fetus’s blood was incompatible with hers, causing the rejection.
He insisted I abort the baby to save her.
I begged. I pleaded. But they forced me onto the operating table anyway.
I died from massive hemorrhaging during the abortion.
The man I could never win over finally broke—his eyes bloodred as he screamed that he would follow me to the grave.
I felt the thick needle pierce through my bone cortex, drilling deep into the marrow.
Sweat poured down my temples.
My face was ghostly pale; I didn’t even have the strength to scream.
I had refused anesthesia to protect the baby growing inside me.
The one performing the procedure was my husband—the very man I was trying to win over.
The more pathetic I looked, the more the system’s favorability alerts chimed in my head.
“Just a little longer, Elara,” Lucas murmured, his voice uncharacteristically gentle.
I closed my eyes, clinging to the thought that once this was over, his guilt would finally turn into love me.
One more successful mission, and I’d get a hundred million.
After the procedure, he actually stayed by my bedside—for once.
Since Isabella fell ill, he’d been constantly at her side as her attending physician.
“I’ll love our baby no matter if it’s a boy or a girl,” he said, his hand resting softly on my abdomen.
But the next second, when the news came that Isabella’s transplant had failed, his face contorted into something ugly.
He gripped my wrist like a man possessed.
“It might be because you’re pregnant—the baby’s blood might be rejecting Isabella’s.
It’s okay, we can fix this.
We’ll terminate and prepare for another donation.”
“Elara, please… help me.”
“We’re young. We can try for another child later.”
I shook my head desperately, tears streaming, “The baby’s already formed—over three months old.
I can feel its heartbeat.
How can you kill your own child to save someone else?”
But Lucas wouldn’t listen.
The way he looked at me was like a starved beast sizing up its prey.
“Elara, I know you’re a good person.
You wouldn’t let Isabella die, would you?”
“This baby… it’s just bad timing.”
His gaze turned to ice as it dropped to my stomach.
My mind went blank.
The system’s voice echoed coldly, “Favorability dropping. Please fulfill the target’s request immediately.”
In the past, I would’ve moved heaven and earth for him.
But this time, all I wanted was to run.
I stumbled toward the door, but Lucas grabbed my neck and shoved me back onto the hospital bed.
“Don’t make this difficult, Elara.”he hissed.
Nurses rushed in and pinned me down.
My brother, Adrian, walked into the room.
He frowned at the scene, his eyes full of disgust when they landed on me.
“What’s your problem, Elara?”
“Even a dog shows more loyalty.
You should be grateful you can contribute something to this family.”
Behind him was the male lead, Daniel.
We grown up together, but he always believed Isabella’s lies and had humiliated me countless time.
“Stop acting like the victim.
If it weren’t for you, Isabella wouldn’t be sick.”
“Your life isn’t even worth half of hers.”
I felt something inside me shatter. Tears fell silently—I was broken, utterly hopeless.
Lucas turned to leave but paused at the door, “I’ll perform the procedure myself.”
“You’re a good person, Elara.
I know you don’t want to hurt Isabella.”
The system chimed again, more urgent, “Warning! Favorability dropping.”
They forced me into the operating room.
As the anesthesia wore off, I saw Lucas’s eyes above the surgical mask—cold, utterly detached.
“Dr. Pierce, we have a problem! Ms. Elara’s vitals are—”
Lucas paused, handed the scalpel to his assistant, and rushed out without a backward glance.
I heard panicked voices fading away, “She’s bleeding heavily!”
“Quick, we need to stop the bleeding—”
A cold, clinical instrument invaded my body, crushing the life within.
A warm gush of blood followed.
I felt my life fading and closed my eyes.
This was my fifth attempt to win Lucas’s love.
Once again, he hadn’t chosen me.
The system screen flashed red—MISSION FAILED.
Back in the main system space, I said, “I’m giving up on Lucas.”
“I’m done.”
But this time, the system’s voice was strangely excited, “Host, host! I’m detecting unprecedented emotional fluctuations from the target! Would you like to try one more time?”
I laughed bitterly.
Probably because I died, and now Isabella has no donor.
Just as I was about to refuse, the system glitched—it forcibly pulling me back.
I opened my eyes to the familiar, sterile smell of disinfectant.
“Ms. Elara, you’re awake!”
The nurse by my bedside was one of the ones who’d helped restrain me.
She looked inappropriately thrilled.
“Dr. Pierce stayed by your side for a whole day and night.
He’s so devoted.”
I stared at the ceiling. “Want to trade places with me?”
“Ms. Elara, where are you going?”
Ignoring her, I got up and walked out.
The wind on the hospital rooftop was biting cold—a harsh early spring chill.
A man was smoking there.
As I walked toward the edge, I asked the system, If I die, the mission ends for good, right?
Even if you drag me back, I won’t do this stupid mission.
I miss my parents.
System, “Host, just one more attempt! The data suggests a high probability of success this time!”
The man heard my footsteps and turned—his expression immediately shifting to impatience.
“Elara, what nonsense are you up to now?”
Adrian’s grip on my arm was brutal, as if he wanted to crush my bones.
He looked at me with pure animosity.
I sneered inwardly.
Of course—I’m not his real sister.
I was adopted from an orphanage by his mom after thier biological Isabella was kidnapped at age four.
Their mom, consumed by grief, had been taken to the orphanage by Mr. Blackwood took her to the orphanage and picked a girl Isabella’s age—me.
But less than a year later, Isabella was found.
My place in the family became profoundly awkward.
Mr. Blackwood didn’t want to send me back—bad for the corporate image.
But Adrian and his mom poured all their compensatory guilt into doting on Isabella.
They began ignoring me, then hating me, all because Isabella constantly accused me of “hurting her.”
No matter how hard I tried to please them, Adrian always said I was “disgusting.”
“Elara, drop the act.
Isabella sees through it—so do I.”
He stubbed out his cigarette and crossed his arms, blocking my path.
I ignored him and continued walking toward the edge.
Suddenly, he yanked me back violently. “What the hell are you doing? Trying to jump?”
I looked back at him, smirking. “None of your business.
Go worry about your real sister.”
He glared, fury erupting. “You ungrateful bitch! We raised you! How dare you act like we owe you something?”
“Stop acting like the world wronged you.”
“Jumping? It’s just another one of your pathetic cries for attention, isn’t it?”
I raised a brow. “You think I won’t so it?”
He hesitated for a split second, then scoffed with contempt. “You’re far too selfish to actually go through with it.”
Adrian turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing with finality.
I was so tired—I just wanted it all to end.
Weak and unsteady, I gripped the cold railing and hauled myself up.
As a mission-taker, I wasn’t supposed to get emotionally involved.
But I’d tried five times to win Lucas over—I’d spent what felt like a lifetime in this world.
How could I not be affected?
This last time had felt so close.
When I married Lucas, I truly believed he could learn to love me.
I looked down at the miniature cars moving like toys far below, closed my eyes, and felt the thunder of my own heartbeat in my ears.
The wind whipped my hair into a frenzy—I leaned forward.
Just a little more, and it’ll be over.
I fell—but a hand shot out, grabbing my wrist with brutal force, yanking me back onto the solid concrete.
“Elara, have you lost your mind?!”
Lucas’s face was inches from mine—angry, shocked.
“It’s just saving a life! You agreed to donate to Isabella before! What’s wrong with you now?”
“Elara, you used to be so kind.
What happened to you?”
My right shoulder screamed with a white-hot pain, it felt dislocated.
I lifted my left hand.
Slap.
The sound cracked through the air.
“Elara, are you insane?!”
Lucas’s fair skin flushed red, veins bulging on his neck—finally, a flicker of genuine fear.
I didn’t speak. I just started prying his fingers off my arm, one by one.
Every second spent in this world, breathing this air, made me sick.
Just as I was about to fall, another hand grabbed me—Adrian.
He looked stunned—maybe surprised someone as “selfish” as me actually choosing to jump was beyond his comprehension.
“Let go of me!”
It was the first time I’d screamed at them with pure undiluted hatred.
They dragged me back onto the rooftop, my body scraping against the rough surface.
Lucas’s hand hung limply—he always treasured his surgeon’s hands.
A bitter laugh echoed in my mind, How pathetic—I’m still worried about his hands.
For a fleeting moment, Lucas just stared at me, his eyes swirling with a pain I couldn’t place.
Adrian gripped on my arm was vicelike, his rage Boiling over. “Elara, how could you! Were you trying to destroy his hands?”
“If you ruin them, Isabella will die! You know he’s the only one who can properly treat her!”
I looked at Lucas’s trembling hands—the ones hailed as “god-gifted” with a legendary their zero failure rate.
But heseemed to have forgotten—I was once a prodigy too.
My piano hands were destroyed because of him.
That summer when Lucas was kidnapped, the kidnappers didn’t want a ransom—they wanted him dead.
When a blade was aimed at his heart, I had lunged forward and grabbed the sharp edge..
Blood soaked my fingers as I shielded him.
The Pierce family were all doctors—Lucas had a photographic memory and a genius for medicine.
Everyone said he was destined to surpass them all.
But because of that kidnapping, the trauma was said to have “ruined” his hands, his future shattered.
The system warned me not to interfere with fate, but I couldn’t let him die.
The nerves in my fingers were severed—even after surgery, I’d never play the piano again.
Back then, Lucas had stayed by my hospital bedside, promising with sincere eyes, “I’ll protect you forever, Elara. I swear it.”
The Blackwoods had once paraded my piano skills for positive publicity.
When my hands became useless, their attitude shifted to resentment.
Even the household staff began to mock me—life became unbearable.
Then Lucas saw Isabella playing piano in the sunroom, the light catching her hair just so, and it was love at first sight.
Maybe it’s just fate for the second male lead to be destined for the female lead.
But he forgot—I was the girl who once played piano in that sunroom, the one who had dreamed with him about winning international competitions together.
“I never ask you to save me.”
I said, my voice flat as I turned back toward the edge.
Lucas shouted behind me, desperation clawing at his words,
“Elara, you know I’d never let you fall! I’ll always catch you!”
“Is this really how you want to repay me? By destroying the hands that save lives?”
I paused and looked back over my shoulder.
A desperate hope flashed in his eyes.
Then I said coldly, “Your hands should’ve been ruined six years ago.”
Lucas’s eyes widened, filling with a dawning, gut-wrenching pain—remembering the past, he stared at my hands, speechless.
Adrian was still fuming. “It’s just bone marrow! Why are you being so dramatic?”
“Elara, remember your place! The Blackwoods raised you! Is it too much to ask for you to give back a little?”
I glanced at my “brother,” feeling a brief, sharp ache in my heart that quickly numbed,
“So you saved me just to keep your sister’s donor alive.”
His face flushed with anger, “We’re family!”
“Family?” I let out a hollow laugh, “You only say that when you need to sign a consent forms.”
“Did anyone ever ask what I wanted?”
I felt nothing. Just a vast, consuming emptiness. just wanted to die.
While the two men were momentarily stunned by my words, I gathered the last of my strength, sprinted the few steps to the edge and jumped.
Lucas and Adrian screamed,
“Elara!”
This time, their grasping hands closed on empty air.—I was free.
I’d asked the system to numb all physical pain.
No matter how frantically it buzzed in my head, begging me to reconsider, I ignored it.
But I didn’t leave this world—I landed on an air cushion.
A crowd had gathered. People were filming on their phones. Firefighters pulling me to safety.
A reporter shoved a microphone in my face,
“Why did you jump?”
“How do you feel being saved?”
I saw Lucas frantically pushing his way through the crowd toward me, his face ashen.
I looked directly into the camera and said, my voice chillingly calm, “It seems I’m harder to kill than I thought.”
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