She Accepted Divorce, He Panicked

Damian's POV

"The mean girl? Who's married? Whose blood type is registered as AB?" I blink at Oliver, can't quite process what he said, "How much did you drink tonight?"

He rolls his eyes at me. He rolls his eyes at ME when he is the one being ridiculous?!

"Uncle Johnny always says that I saved your life, when in fact I hesitated about helping you," Oliver suddenly blurts, coming to sit by my side, "I felt bad taking your help because...I don't know if I would have saved you, if it wasn't my team member that hurt you in the first place."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," Oliver raises his glass, giving me a mysterious smile, "the world is a dark place."

What does that mean?!

"You know I lost my parents to a car accident, right?" Oliver leans in, his voice low and his look heavy, which is very rare, if you know him. "A car crashed into him, but it wasn't an accident. It was murder." "What?! Why the hell didn't you say anything?! We can look into it--"

"The driver is still in prison," Oliver lets out a cold snort calmly, a shade of darkness in his eyes, "Long story short? My dad sold his blood for a living. You know how they would encourage people with rare blood types to donate, right? Like, a small amount of help from everyone, makes a huge difference? That kind of stuff? In reality, it's the amount of people who would help that is small, and there is always a need for rare stuff, no matter what it is. Our blood is one of them. Rich people pay HUGELY for it -- if you can find the right

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I didn't know any of that.

"You wouldn't know," Oliver lets out a short laugh, landing his face on his palm with his elbow on the back of the sofa, looking at me sideways. The alcohol put a shade of red at the corners of his eyes, giving his smile a bloody shade, "You are rich. The heir of an EMPIRE. You will always be on the side of the demand, not supply.

"But not us. Not me. Dad messed up with the wrong people. I mean, it wasn't like he wasn't at fault. He kept raising the price because the buyer was rich and had a daughter in the hospital. Dad thought he could live off the big fish. But no... The big fish bit him in the ass. His daughter was saved then he hired a driver to run over my dad."

Oliver is smiling at me, but I see only sorrow in his eyes. I never knew his world was so different than mine. I thought I had seen the dark side, and honestly believed that being a lawyer could make a difference. How naive I was.

"My dad was not a decent man in

many ways, but he loved me." Oliver mumbles on more to himself than to me, "What he told me the most was to keep my blood type a secret. Don't let people know, hide yourself in darkness, so the real darkness can't get you. That's what he said. Having something rare inthis world is a sin, even if all you did was to be born with it."

I don't know what to say. What do you say to a brother who you can't share their feelings? I always

thought that money was more of burden to me than treasure -- it makes people around me all put on masks. They lie, they suck up they target me. It's overwhelming and I hated it. But now I know, it did give me privilege, in ways I didn't even know.

I never had to protect myself from these people for my life -- they only wanted money, and that sounds like the cheapest price to pay now.

"I'm sorry about what happened to you..." I watch Oliver gulps his drink with a sullen look, "You should have told me about these. Dad would never let you leave the city if he knew--"

"He knew. I told him when he made

the most generous offer," Oliver shakes his head, "And I told him giving me freedom and the ability protect myself was the best he could do for me. That was our deal. He gave me the best education he could, and he let me keep my poor last name so I wouldn't have a target on my back. I'm freer and safer than ever here in this city, bro."

"Hmm...I'm happy for you...?" I frown, "Wait! What blood type are you registered with?!"

Oliver curves his lips: "Bingo, bro. Now I registered as the correct one because I donate blood on a regular base. But before? Yes, it had been AB for years." "Why AB?"

"AB is the least type that's likely to be called for a blood donation in an emergency," Oliver laughs at my question, "The easiest to keep our secret."