The Misunderstood Sacrifice

"Benjamin, please save Nathan. The doctor said that if he doesn't have the surgery within three days, he'll never be able to stand up again," I pleaded.

In the private box, I gripped Benjamin Lawrence's arm tightly, hoping he would lend me a million dollars.

A day ago, our son, Nathan Morgan, had a really serious car accident.

Nathan was lucky enough to survive.

But his leg was severely injured. If he didn't have the surgery soon, he would have to lie in bed for the rest of his life.

Nathan was only over four years old. I was afraid that his life would be ruined like this.

"Is this how you beg for help?" Benjamin's eyes were filled with cruelty and coldness.

He expressionlessly picked up a glass of wine. "Beg me sincerely."

My heart wrenched painfully, and I knew that Benjamin hated me.

Once upon a time, he and I had been the most in-love couple.

But five years ago, when he was at his lowest point, I deserted him.

Benjamin thought I was a vain and heartless woman and hated me to the core and also didn't want to believe that Nathan was his son.

Half a year ago, Benjamin used all kinds of means to make me marry him, but it wasn't because he loved me anymore. Instead, he wanted to trap me and take revenge on me freely.

But five years ago, I broke up with him and lied to him that I was going to marry a rich old man because someone threatened me with my mom Patricia Morgan's life.

At that time, the sharp knife was pressed against Patricia's neck, and I had no choice but to call and break up with Benjamin.

"What? Do you want that brat to die?" Benjamin casually swirled the wine glass in his hand, and then his gaze stabbed at my face sharply. He commanded again, "Beg me again."

Once, I had been a proud and unrestrained girl.

But when it came to the lives of my loved ones, so-called pride and dignity were nothing.

I forcefully suppressed the uncomfortable in my throat and begged, "Please lend me a million dollars. I'm not lying to you. Nathan is your son."

Benjamin sneered, and his eyes, which used to be filled with warmness, were now icy cold.

He didn't say anything but raised his hand and poured all the red wine in the glass over my head.

The slightly cold red wine trickled down my face, instantly soaking my apricot-colored cotton dress. I looked so embarrassed.

There was a burst of laughter in the private box, and everyone was saying that I was shameless and looked as pathetic as a dog.

Sandra Fisher was even snuggled up in his arms, and the triumphant glint in her eyes couldn't be hidden.

"Drink all the wine on the table." Benjamin put his arm around Sandra's waist, leaned on the sofa, and looked at me coldly.

When I saw the several bottles of wine on the table, I instinctively pressed my abdomen.

I was seriously ill, and I had advanced gastric cancer.

The doctor said that if I didn't take good care of myself, I wouldn't live for more than three months.

I couldn't rest assured about Nathan, and I wanted to live a few more days, so I didn't want to dr...