Chapter 1

When Queenie Jorian, the mother of my son, Leroy Pattinson, held a kitchen knife to the little boy's neck, my mind went blank. I never imagined Francis Show being more important than even our son to her.

"Niels Pattinson, are you going to donate your kidney or not? If you don't, I'll finish off your son with this knife, then take myself out after," Queenie threatened, holding Leroy as she stood at my bedside, her eyes full of cold determination.

"Dad, I'm scared. Mom, please don't hold the knife. I'm scared…

"Dad, save me!"

Our five-year-old son was sobbing uncontrollably.

"Queenie, do you have any conscience at all? I'm paralyzed because I was hit by a car while trying to save you. And now, you want me to give my kidney to that guy friend of yours? Can't he just wait for some other donor with a compatible kidney?"

Queenie's expression was icy. The knife she pressed against Leroy's neck left a faint red line.

"He can't. Francis is in the late stages of kidney failure. What am I supposed to do if he dies? And Niels, stop trying to guilt-trip me. I didn't ask you to save me back then.

"I've also taken care of you for six years without complaint. Why can't you be a little kinder and less selfish? It's just one kidney. You're paralyzed anyway—what use is it to you? I don't care. If Francis dies, I can't go on living either."

It was as if Francis was her husband. I looked at Queenie's face and suddenly remembered how she had looked when we had first gotten married. Her face had glowed with happiness while she had said marrying me made her the happiest woman in the world.

Queenie had gotten pregnant during the first year of our marriage. We had been out walking on the street when a drunk driver in a BMW had sped toward us.

I had pushed her out of the way to protect her, taking the impact myself and ending up paralyzed, never to walk again.

One of my kidneys had even ended up failing. However, since Queenie had been pregnant at the time, I had begged the doctor not to tell her to avoid upsetting her.

When I had first learned I was paralyzed, I hadn't wanted to burden Queenie and had even considered divorcing her. But she had stubbornly refused, saying she loved me and would stay by my side no matter what.

Yet, time could be both cruel and unyielding.

The woman who had once said she would always love me and stay by my side had eventually disappeared. Now, as I looked at her holding a knife to Leroy's neck, demanding I donate my kidney for Francis, a wave of crushing pain clenched my heart.

In the end, I agreed to it.

"Alright. Just don't regret it."

Queenie quickly put the knife away. "Why would I regret it? I knew you were kind, dear."

I was immediately taken to the operating room.

Queenie, along with the lead doctor, kept urging the surgical team operating on me to hurry with the kidney removal and refused their suggestion to take additional scans.

The moment my kidney was removed, Queenie's eyes lit up as she followed the staff carrying the organ out without even looking back at me.

When the doctors prepared to close my incision, the ICU monitors began emitting sharp, urgent alarm sounds as my vitals suddenly dropped. The medical staff quickly attempted to resuscitate me, but they couldn't stop my condition from worsening.

After getting the necessary equipment, they finally discovered I didn't have a second kidney.