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Chapter 35 – The Bangle Bargain and a Blood–Chilling Truth
Damien’s words echoed in my mind long after our roadside encounter. The intensity in his eyes had left me breathless, and the memory of his cologne lingered like a ghost.
My phone pinged with a notification. A message from Damien.
“Are you free this weekend? There’s something I’d like to discuss with you.”
My heart fluttered. The message was simple, but it sent electricity through my veins. I typed and deleted multiple responses before settling on a casual “Yes, I’m available. What did you have in mind?”
I hit send and immediately regretted not waiting longer. Would I seem too eager? Before I could spiral further into overthinking, my phone rang. The screen displayed “Harrison Ashworth” – my father.
My stomach dropped. Last I’d heard, he was still in detention following the scandal with his company. Why was he calling me?
Against my better judgment, I answered. “Hello?”
“You ungrateful little bitch!” His voice exploded through the speaker, making me flinch. “Are you happy now? Are you satisfied seeing your father humiliated?”
I pulled the phone away from my ear, heart pounding. Taking a deep breath, I switched to speakerphone and placed it on the table.
“I see they let you out early,” I replied coldly. “What do you want?”
“What do I want?” he snarled. “My company is in ruins, my reputation shattered, and Ivy is dying in the hospital while you prance around with your new rich friends!”
His mention of Ivy caught me by surprise. “What’s wrong with Ivy?”
“As if you care! Her condition has deteriorated. The doctors say she won’t last the month. His voice cracked slightly, revealing genuine concern that he’d never shown for me. “She’s been asking for something – your mother’s jade bangle.”
I froze. The bangle was one of the few precious items I had from my mother. Its
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smooth, emerald–green surface he seen a comfort to me throughout my
moments.
“Absolutely not,” I said firmly. “That bangle is the only thing Mom left me.”
“She’s dying, Hazel! Show some compassion for once!
darkest
I laughed bitterly. “Compassion? Like when Ivy stole my fiancé and wedding? Or when you allowed your wife to torment me for years?”
The line went quiet for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice had shifted to the smooth, manipulative tone I knew all too well.
“I’ll make you a deal,” he said. “Lend Ivy the bangle, and I’ll transfer your mother’s shares of Ashworth Designs to you, plus an additional ten percent of my own.”
I sat up straighter. Those shares would give me controlling interest in the company that should have been my inheritance.
“Why now?” I asked suspiciously. “You’ve been fighting me on those shares for years.
*People change when faced with mortality,” he replied, his voice dripping with false sincerity. “Ivy’s condition has… put things in perspective.”
“Bullshit,” I said flatly. “Your company is failing, and you need me to take on the majority share to make me liable for the debts. That’s it, isn’t it?”
His momentary silence confirmed my theory.
“Fine,” I continued. “I’ll agree on one condition: the share transfer happens before Ivy gets the bangle.
“You don’t trust your own father?” he asked, feigning hurt.
“Not even slightly,” I replied. “Have the papers drawn up. Once they’re signed and executed, Ivy can borrow the bangle for a week – no longer.”
He grumbled but agreed. As I was about to end the call, curiosity got the better of me.
“One more thing” I said. “How did Damien Sterling get an invitation to my wedding? The one Ivy stole?”
The question had been nagging at me since Mrs. Sterling’s cryptic comments about destiny.
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“Sterling?” My father sounded ger ely confused. “I don’t recall inviting anyone by
that name.”
*He was there. He mentioned something about getting an invitation through Elias Easton.”
“Elias? That makes sense. He handles foreign investors. Must have been a business connection.” My father paused. “Why are you asking about Sterling? Has he approached you?”
The sudden interest in his tone made me wary. “Just curious. Goodbye, Father.”
I hung up before he could press further, but his reaction confirmed what I’d begun to suspect: the Sterlings‘ interest in me wasn’t random. They had deliberately sought me
Out
But why?
I paced my apartment, connecting dots. Damien showing up at my wedding. The timely business proposal. Mrs. Sterling’s maternal warmth. Chloe’s convenient appearance as my rideshare driver. It was all too perfectly orchestrated..
“What do they want from me?” I muttered aloud.
I turned to my laptop and typed “Sterling family” into the search bar. Thousands of results appeared – business acquisitions, charity galas, vague mentions of government connections. Nothing personal. Nothing that connected to me.
I tried another search: “Damien Sterling background.”
Fewer results, all carefully curated. Harvard Business School. Military training. Taking over family operations five years ago. A few candid photos at events, always looking impeccable, always slightly aloof.
Nothing explained his fixation on me.
I closed my laptop and leaned back, frustrated. What was I missing? Why would one of the most powerful families in the country target an ordinary designer with a messy personal life?
I tried to recall every conversation I’d had with Damien. His intense gaze. The way Mrs. Sterling said my presence in their lives was “no accident.” Chloe mentioning her brother had “chosen” me.
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My mind drifted to Julian. He’d m
d.my blood regularly due to his rare condition. Rh–negative, often called “panda blood” in our country because of its scarcity. Less than 19% of the population had it.
I had it too.
A chill ran down my spine as a terrible possibility formed in my mind. What if someone in the Sterling family needed blood donations? What if that’s why they’d sought me
out?
But no, that didn’t make sense. If they needed a donor, there were blood banks, medical channels. They wouldn’t need to weave this elaborate web around me.
Unless…
Unless they needed something more. Something a blood bank couldn’t provide.
I remembered news stories I’d read about black market organ trafficking. Wealthy people paying fortunes to skip transplant lists. Hospital “accidents” where victims woke up missing kidneys.
My hands began to shake. The Sterling family had unlimited resources, connections in every sector. If they wanted something from me my blood, my organs – who could. stop them?
Suddenly, Mrs. Sterling’s warm smile seemed predatory. Damien’s intense gaze felt calculating rather than admiring. Even Chloe’s friendly nature could be part of an elaborate trap.
“Oh my god,” I whispered, wrapping my arms around myself. The weekend meeting Damien proposed was that when they planned to make their move?
My rare blood type. That had to be it. I’d been so flattered by their attention, so desperate for connection after Julian’s betrayal, that I’d walked right into their web.
Every kind gesture, every seemingly coincidental meeting- it all made horrible sense now. The Sterlings hadn’t taken an interest in me because they saw my potential or admired my resilience.
They wanted something inside me. Something I couldn’t give without risking my own. life.
