Chapter 1: Let's Get Divorced

"Blair White, you worthless blind bitch!" Mrs. Ward's voice ripped through my phone's speaker, filling the empty penthouse. "Living in luxury while dragging our family name through the mud. My son could've had anyone, and he's stuck with damaged goods like you!"

My fingers strangled my phone, nails breaking skin. Three fucking years. One thousand and ninety-five days of swallowing their poison, letting them cut me to pieces. The tears burned behind my useless eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Not anymore.

"Listen up, Mrs. Ward," my voice shook with three years of pent-up rage. "Your precious son picked me. Don't like it? Tell Harrison to divorce me. I'll be gone before the ink dries." My heart slammed against my ribs, high on my own defiance.

"You Bitch."

"Save it. I'm done being your family's punching bag." I cut her off, shocking myself with the steel in my voice. A laugh that bordered on hysteria clawed up my throat. "Three years of your bullshit is enough."

The private elevator's hum silenced her next attack. My heart froze, recognizing that sound like prey catching a predator's scent. I killed the call.

Harrison.

Fear and determination warred in my gut as his footsteps approached. My knees threatened to buckle, but I forced my spine straight. Not this time, you bastard. This time I fight.

"Harrison Ward." I faced his footsteps, hating how my voice trembled.

"What's so damn urgent I had to leave the office?" Contempt dripped from every word. "Unlike some people, I actually work for a living."

"Right, unlike your blind wife?" I spat back, ice flooding my veins. "Don't worry, I'll make this quick."

"Then spit it out."

I lifted my chin, scraping together every scrap of courage I'd buried these past three years. "I want a divorce."

His laugh sliced through the penthouse. "A divorce? Lost what's left of your mind?"

"Dead serious, Harrison." My voice steadied, feeding off my desperation. No turning back now. "This circus act is over."

"Circus?" He snarled. "You ungrateful—"

"Ungrateful?" The word tasted like battery acid. I yanked up my sleeve with shaking fingers, exposing the constellation of needle marks that branded my skin. "Should I thank you for turning me into your personal blood bag?"

"Lower your voice. Who told you about this? How did you find out?" Harrison warned, a flash of shock in his voice before he regained control. His tone sent ice down my spine, but for once, fear fueled my courage instead of smothering it.

"Why? Afraid the neighbors might hear the truth?" My voice rose, cracking with emotion. Tears scorched behind my useless eyes but I kept them in check. "Scared they'll learn how you've been using me for three years? All for precious Anna Sullivan?"

"Shut up!" Something expensive shattered nearby. The crash made me jump, echoing through my bones like a gunshot.

"Hit a nerve, did I?" My laugh came out bitter, edging toward hysteria. Each word felt like swallowing glass, but I couldn't stop. Keep pushing. Don't let him see your fear. "Your beloved ex needed blood, so you found yourself a matching donor and slapped a wedding ring on her."

"Your drunk of a father put Anna in that state!" Harrison's rage made his voice shake. Each word stabbed deep. "You should be grateful I only took your blood! If you and Anna didn't share the same rare blood type, you think I would've looked twice at someone like you?"

"So that's the truth?" My hands trembled violently as everything clicked into place. The weekly "check-ups," the endless blood draws, the careful timing around Anna's "treatments." How could I have been so blind in every way that mattered? "That's why you married me? To keep Anna Sullivan breathing?"

"She needed regular transfusions to survive," Harrison growled. "Someone had to pay for what your father did."

"My father was innocent!" Raw emotion cracked my voice. The familiar weight of injustice crushed my chest. "He didn't cause that accident, and you know it! But truth never mattered, did it? All you saw was a convenient solution for your precious Anna's needs."

"Watch your mouth—"

"Or what? You'll hurt me worse than you already have?" I stood my ground though every instinct screamed at me to run. Be brave. Just this once, be brave enough to save yourself. "I know everything now, Harrison. I'm done being your convenient solution."

"What are you talking about?"

"Three years as your blood bank." My blind eyes found his face with uncanny accuracy, guided by three years of mapping his movements, his moods, his cruelty. "Three years letting you take whatever you wanted. But I'm done."

His grip on my arm came like a vise. He yanked me forward, then shoved me back. I lost my balance and hit the floor hard. Pain shot through my hip and back, but I welcomed it. Physical pain beat the hell out of three years of emotional torture.

"The divorce isn't happening," Harrison's voice came from above, cold as death. "You'll keep providing what Anna needs. That's your only purpose here."

I pushed myself up, ignoring how my body screamed. Every move was an act of defiance. "I'll give Anna every drop of blood she needs, Harrison. After you sign the divorce papers."

"You—"

"You can't have it both ways." My voice turned to steel, forged in the fire of my own suffering. "Either I'm your wife and you treat me like one, or I'm your blood bank and you let me go. Pick one."

Harrison's ragged breathing filled the silence. For the first time in our marriage, fear didn't own me. The realization felt terrifying and freeing all at once. I had nothing left to lose.

"Think it through, Harrison," I said quietly, tasting blood where I'd bitten my lip. "Your lawyers would love to hear how you've been treating your disabled wife. How you married me just to use me as a living blood bank. What would the board say about that?"

"Are you threatening me?"

"I'm negotiating." My smile could've cut glass, even as my heart raced with fear and triumph. "Sign the papers, Harrison. Let's end this right."

I couldn't see his expression, but his silence told me everything. The tension crackled as I waited, seconds stretching like years. I'd finally found his weak spot – scandal. The mighty Harrison Ward couldn't risk his reputation.

"You'll regret this," he said finally.

"No, Harrison." My voice stayed steady even as I shook inside like a leaf in a storm. Three years of fear and submission crystallized into something harder, something unbreakable. "The only thing I regret is not doing this sooner."

I am Blair White. I might be blind, but I finally see everything clearly. And I choose freedom.