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Alysia lay on the freezing operating table, moments away from donating her kidney to her brother's fiancée. But as the anesthesia set in, a violent shock tore through her brain, awakening agonizing memories of a thousand brutal deaths across a thousand past lifetimes. She suddenly realized her family's true plan. Her brother and his fiancée weren't just taking her organ; they were secretly plotting to declare her mentally unfit post-surgery to steal her entire trust fund. When Alysia abruptly stopped the procedure and exposed the fiancée's kidney failure as the result of severe drug abuse, her family's reaction was chilling. Her father didn't care about the truth or the law. He ordered his bodyguards to lock Alysia up until she agreed to the surgery, while her brother threatened to freeze her assets and seize her late mother's penthouse. "You have no heart, Alysia. You don't deserve the Kent name," her aunt spat in disgust. For lifetimes, she had kept her head down, taking the blame and sacrificing everything for a family that viewed her as nothing more than a disposable blood bag and a financial pawn. The resignation that had clouded her eyes for so long vanished, replaced by the absolute, zero-degree cold of a glacier. Ripping the IV from her hand and leaving her family in stunned silence, Alysia walked straight out of the hospital. She had exactly forty-six hours to find a husband to secure her inheritance, and she knew exactly which ruthless billionaire CEO to target to help her burn the Kent family to the ground.
Contents
Contract Marriage With The Genius Heiress Chapter 1
The operating room was freezing.
The chill didn't come from the air conditioning, but from the clear liquid pushing through the IV line into the back of Alysia's hand.
She stared at the blinding surgical lights above.
The anesthesiologist tapped her vein, his voice a dull hum behind his mask.
"Count backward from ten, Miss Kent."
Ten.
Nine.
A violent, electric shock tore through the center of her brain.
The heart rate monitor beside her spiked, emitting a sharp, frantic beep.
Alysia's spine arched off the sterile table.
Her lungs seized.
A tsunami of memories crashed into her skull, heavy and suffocating.
She saw the damp, rotting walls of a Brooklyn basement.
She felt the phantom agony of a festering surgical wound, the exact spot where her kidney had been harvested.
She tasted her own blood from a thousand different deaths across a thousand different lifetimes.
The anesthesiologist cursed under his breath, his gloved hand reaching for the dial to increase the dosage.
Alysia's eyes snapped open.
The resignation that had clouded her pupils seconds ago was gone, replaced by the absolute, zero-degree cold of a glacier.
She lifted her right arm.
Her muscles were heavy, fighting the initial wave of the drug, but she forced them to obey.
She shoved the anesthesiologist's hand away from the dial.
"What are you doing?" the man stammered, stumbling back a half-step. "The procedure has started. You can't stop now."
Alysia didn't speak.
She reached for the medical tape securing the IV to her hand and ripped it off in one brutal motion.
She yanked the plastic catheter out of her vein.
Dark red blood splattered across the sterile blue surgical drapes.
The heavy doors swung open, and the lead surgeon marched in.
"What the hell is going on here?" he barked, glaring at Alysia. "Restrain her! This is a severe violation of protocol!"
Alysia sat up, her bare feet hitting the icy floor.
She looked at the surgeon, her chest rising and falling in a slow, calculated rhythm.
"Account ending in 8492," she said, her voice raspy but steady. "A wire transfer of five hundred thousand dollars from the Holloway family. Two weeks ago."
The surgeon's face drained of all color.
His jaw went slack, and his feet rooted to the floor.
He didn't dare take another step toward her.
Alysia ripped the thin hospital gown off her shoulders.
She grabbed a sterile surgical coat from a nearby tray and pulled it over her arms.
She took a step forward and her knee buckled slightly, the residual anesthesia messing with her equilibrium.
She nearly crashed into a metal instrument cart.
She closed her eyes, forcing her breathing into the precise, rhythmic pattern of a master martial artist she had been three lifetimes ago.
Her muscles tightened, aligning her spine perfectly.
She opened her eyes, completely steady, and walked to the automatic doors.
She slammed her palm against the release button.
The doors slid apart, and the blinding flash of camera bulbs hit her face.
Out in the hallway, her brother, Kaden Kent, was standing in front of a pack of tabloid reporters.
Tears streamed down his face as he spoke into the microphones.
"My sister's sacrifice is the purest act of love. She is giving Crystal a second chance at life."
Kaden heard the doors open.
He turned around.
His fake, sorrowful expression froze when he saw Alysia standing there, wearing a surgical coat, her right hand dripping blood onto the linoleum floor.
The reporters shifted their lenses instantly, shutters clicking like machine-gun fire to capture the emotional pre-surgery farewell.
Kaden's jaw twitched-his telltale sign of rising panic.
He forced a sickeningly sweet smile and stepped forward, opening his arms.
"Alysia, honey, what are you doing out here?" he hissed through his teeth, his voice low enough for only her to hear. "Get back on that table right now."
Alysia sidestepped his embrace.
She raised her uninjured left hand and slapped him across the face.
The crack of her palm against his cheek echoed down the corridor, silencing the entire crowd.
Kaden's head snapped to the side.
A drop of blood welled at the corner of his mouth.
He stared at her, his eyes wide with disbelief.
This was the sister who had always kept her head down, who had always taken the blame.
The door to the adjacent VIP suite opened.
Crystal, Kaden's fiancée, rolled out in a wheelchair.
She immediately clutched the fabric at her throat, her fingers spasming as she feigned a look of sheer terror.
"Alysia?" Crystal's voice trembled. "Are you backing out? After you promised?"
Two reporters in the front row, clearly paid off by Kaden, started shouting.
"How can you be so selfish?"
"You're going to let your future sister-in-law die?"
Alysia reached into the pocket of the surgical coat.
Her fingers wrapped around the small plastic recording pen she had swiped from the nurses' station on her way in. On her way to be prepped, she had feigned a dizzy spell, 'accidentally' dropping it under a table in the VIP waiting room where Kaden and Crystal were celebrating, only to retrieve it moments later.
She pulled it out and pressed play.
The audio was crisp.
Kaden's voice filled the hallway, followed by Crystal's giggles.
"As soon as they take her kidney, we'll declare her mentally unfit during the recovery. The trust fund will default entirely to me."
"You're terrible, Kaden. But I love it."
The reporters gasped collectively.
The camera flashes intensified, blinding Kaden and Crystal, whose faces had turned the color of ash.
Kaden's jaw twitched violently.
He lunged at Alysia, his hands clawing for the recording pen.
Alysia didn't flinch.
She stepped into his space, grabbed his extended wrist, and twisted it sharply downward.
The sickening snap of bone breaking cut through the noise.
Kaden dropped to his knees, screaming in agony.
Alysia let go of his arm, letting him collapse onto the floor like a discarded rag.
She looked down at him, her eyes devoid of any human warmth.
"I'm keeping my kidney," Alysia said, her voice slicing through the chaos. "And I'm taking back everything that belongs to me."
She stepped over his writhing body and walked straight toward the elevators, leaving the hallway in absolute ruin.
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