He Stole My Kidney Not Knowing My Family Are Professional Killers

The day of the accident, my husband’s assistant, Tiff Monroe, used a fabricated excuse about crippling period pain to divert all the specialized medical teams. I watched, numb with panic, as a shard of glass dug deeper into my abdomen. With the last of my breath, I screamed at Pierce Hollingsworth. “Pierce! Get a surgeon in here now, or my family will absolutely destroy you!” For five years, I had kept Pierce from meeting my family, always claiming they were doing complicated business abroad. He had no idea that I was the only seemingly ‘normal’ one in the entire Caldwell clan. My mother is a calculated killer. My father is pure antisocial personality. And my younger brother is a brilliant, terrifying sadist. But Pierce just clamped his hand around my face, his fingers digging into my jaw. “Stop with the crazy talk!” “You have no family, Sutton! All of it was a lie! I took you in, an orphan, and married you! Now you’re trying to pull a stunt just to compete with Tiff? Do you have any idea how many millions we’d lose if she had any kind of setback?” With that, he signaled his guards to fall back. “Since your supposed ‘family’ is so powerful, it looks like you don’t need me after all!” “Let’s go!” I watched him walk away and sank into utter despair. I used the final reserves of my strength to send a text to our group chat: Caldwell: Family First. Pierce didn’t know it, but with that single message, he had just forfeited his last hope of survival.

1 In our five years together, he never believed a single word I told him about my family. My stuttered warnings, the veiled hints that my loved ones were dangerous—to him, they were all just the neurotic theatrics of a woman trying to cling to him. The alarm on the cardiac monitor began to shriek, faster and faster. Mac, Pierce’s most trusted bodyguard, stood motionless at the door. He’d known me for five years, but he just silently watched the blood pool and spread beneath me. I knew, given the severity of my injuries, I wouldn’t last long enough for my mother and the rest of the family to arrive. “Mac…” I spoke with difficulty, my voice thin. “Please, just call any doctor. Any one at all.” He shook his head, his voice a dry rasp. “Mr. Hollingsworth’s orders, Mrs. Hollingsworth. The medical team is solely focused on Ms. Monroe’s treatment.” “He said your injuries weren’t life-threatening.” Not life-threatening. I looked down at the large shard of glass lodged in my abdomen, feeling my life force drain away with the warm rush of fluid. Of course. His mind was already consumed by someone else. How could he possibly care about my fading pulse? The phone was still clutched in my hand, the screen glowing with the chat log of Caldwell: Family First. My brother’s last message read: “Sis, we just boarded the private jet. Two hours out.” The accompanying picture was of my mother, Vivian, in a sleek airport boutique, browsing kitchenware. The caption was chilling: “Grabbing a little something for Sutty. She keeps complaining her paring knife is dull.” My fingers trembled as I typed. “Hurry. I’m dying.” The moment the message went through, Mac’s phone rang. He answered it while still trying to pacify me. “Mrs. Hollingsworth, just listen to Mr. Hollingsworth. Apologize to Ms. Monroe.” “Mr. Hollingsworth only has eyes for Ms. Monroe now. You need to accept the new reality.” I gave a weak shake of my head, signaling for him to take the call. I don’t know what Mac heard. The elderly man’s single remaining eye—his left one, the right had been a gift to my father years ago—widened. His pupil shrunk to a pinprick, and he snapped his head up to stare at me. “Mrs. Hollingsworth… your maiden name… it’s Caldwell?!”

2 The name Caldwell yanked me back into the vortex of old memories. When school ended, all the other kids rushed home. I was the only one who desperately wanted to stay. When my mother picked me up, she would flash that gentle, practiced smile. The first thing she did when we got home was make me put on a mask. There were always different strangers sitting at our dinner table. The only thing they had in common was that they had stopped breathing. “Sutty, darling, Mommy has to slice up this gentleman now. Why don’t you go study in your room? The smell of iron will get a bit strong.” She always had a reason. This man, she’d explain, had abused his wife for years, driving the poor woman and her child to jump into the sea at dawn. So, she had to punish him on the wife’s behalf. I never saw my father, Arthur, commit the act, but in his bespoke, sterile workshop, I saw every variety of human organ imaginable. For over a decade, the decorative door handle to his lab hadn’t changed: it was Mac’s left eye, perfectly preserved. My younger brother, Spencer, was the most unnerving of all. If ever a weaker person was bullied, the perpetrator would, within a day, somehow end up committing an inexplicable suicide. “Sister, I don’t want you to live in a world with these kinds of pathetic human trash.” In time, I developed an aura, a certain cold energy that naturally pushed people away. No one wanted to be my friend. Except Pierce. When the entire class ostracized me, he was the first to step up and help me carry my books, laughing. “It’s not an aura, Sutton. It’s just unique personal charisma.” When a detailed anatomical diagram accidentally slipped out of my backpack, he calmly picked it up. “Your little brother’s comic book art is really professional.” I thought he was the only person who could see me, Sutton, through the shadows of the Caldwells. He once asked, full of genuine curiosity, “What does your family do abroad?” I clutched the hem of my shirt, giving him a half-truth. “International imports and exports.” He never once questioned it. “That must be exhausting.” “From now on, you have me. You won’t have to carry that burden alone.” That day, with the sunset painting the sky, he knelt and proposed, solemnly promising to protect me for the rest of my life. I believed him. That’s why I defied my family’s direct orders and ran off with him to this new city. Mother said, “Sutty, you should never trust a man.” Father said, “You don’t have to inherit the business, but don’t dishonor the Caldwell name.” Spencer said, “Sister, if he ever disobeys you, I’ll make him compliant.” I dismissed all their warnings as old-world nonsense. I thought Pierce was different. But the moment Tiff Monroe appeared, he changed, so easily, so completely. He wouldn’t even investigate this car crash, simply because Tiff was the prime suspect! I nodded at Mac’s horrified expression. “If you don’t want to end up blind, you will go get a doctor now!” Finally, just before my consciousness completely slipped away, a doctor was rushed in, dragging me back from the edge of the grave.

3 I lay in the trauma bay, the heart monitor finally showing a steady, hopeful wave pattern. A doctor had just started an IV drip of blood plasma when the door was brutally kicked open. Tiff, wearing a flimsy hospital gown and a crooked bandage on her hand, stormed in. Her voice was quiet, but the doctors immediately stopped working. “Everyone out.” “Ms. Monroe, the patient just regained a pulse. We must start the transfusion immediately…” “I said, out.” She tilted her head. Two large bodyguards instantly ushered the medical staff out. Tiff walked to my bedside, stared at my face, and then offered a sudden, unnerving smile. “Sutton Caldwell. Do you know how long I’ve waited for this day?” I weakly managed one word. “Go.” “Go?” She raised her hand and slapped me across the face. The fresh sutures in my abdomen screamed in protest, and a trickle of blood ran down my chin. “Did you honestly think Pierce would believe your insane ghost stories?” She laughed, leaning back. “He thinks you’re delusional!” “The accident was your doing.” I stared at her. It wasn’t a question; it was a statement. She leaned close to my ear, her voice a soft, vicious whisper. “That’s right.” “I had the brake lines cut. The timing was perfect. I was hoping you’d be dead on impact. Didn’t expect you to be quite so resilient.” My fingers twitched. I wanted to grab her hair, but my body refused to obey. “He finds out… he’ll kill you.” “Who? Pierce?” She brushed my hand away dismissively. “He’s still too busy arranging my birthday gift. Besides, dead women can’t talk.” Mac, standing by, cleared his throat, his voice halting. “Ms. Monroe, you can’t kill the Mrs.!” Tiff gave a careless laugh. “And who are you to give orders here?” I waved a hand, signaling Mac to back off. Suddenly, a wave of blinding pain tore through me. “Ah!” “Does that hurt?” Tiff’s polished fingernail pressed directly onto the wound on my side. “It’ll stop hurting soon.” Mac tried to lunge forward but was pinned instantly by the guards. Tiff leisurely untied my gown, her eyes lingering over me like she was examining a piece of meat at the butcher’s shop. “I actually had myself secretly tested.” “Three months ago, during your annual physical, Pierce sent me all your data.” “Your kidney and mine? They’re a perfect match.” My pupils constricted. So that was it. This accident, this entire spectacle, had all been meticulously orchestrated for this very moment. “You’re insane…” My breath was so faint it was barely a thread. “Illegal organ harvesting. You think you’ll get away with this?” “Illegal?” “Pierce will have all the paperwork ready. We’ll just say you died from severe trauma in the crash and voluntarily donated your organs.” “As for your family…” She leaned back in. “They won’t even find a body to mourn.” The bodyguards pushed me onto a gurney and into a makeshift operating room. Tiff snapped on a pair of surgical gloves, watching me with cold indifference next to the doctor. She wasn’t a nurse, but she was right. Pierce would clean up all the loose ends for her. I felt the ice-cold surgical steel slice across my skin and heard her humming a tune, as if she were enjoying a lavish dinner. Mac’s mouth was taped shut; only strangled, muffled cries came out. My wrists were tied to the table, the restraints chafing my skin, but nothing could compare to the ripping agony in my core. My cell phone vibrated violently on a nearby counter. Messages from Caldwell: Family First flooded in. “Sister, we’re entering the city limits.” “Sutty, don’t be scared. Mommy’s debating whether to drain one liter of blood from his body or two.” But they were too late. I felt something being violently torn from my body, and the world began to spin uncontrollably. The surgeon placed the bloody organ into a chilling cold-storage container. Tiff patted my cheek. “Thanks for the gift.” As she turned to leave, the operating room door was kicked open again. Pierce stood in the doorway, his face the color of ash.

4 Pierce stood frozen in the doorway, his eyes sweeping down to my bloody, gaping side. “Sutton! Who did this!” “Who dared!” I sagged with relief, managing to point a shaky finger at Tiff. “Pierce, honey.” Tiff instantly burst into tears, her voice weak and on the verge of collapsing. “Oh, thank God you’re here. I was so scared…” “Sutton is still trying to manipulate you.” She stumbled toward him, her practiced fragility making her collapse perfectly into his chest. “She crashed the car deliberately to try and kill me, and just now on the table, she threatened to tear me to pieces.” “I only came to check on her injuries, and she went absolutely insane, ripping at my bandages. Look at my hand.” She held up her wrapped hand. Small, perfectly art-directed drops of blood seeped through the snow-white gauze. It was nothing but a slight abrasion from when I had struggled. But Pierce’s expression instantly hardened. He withdrew the pitying look he’d given me. He wrapped his arms around Tiff, his eyes overflowing with genuine concern. “Don’t worry, I’m here.” He looked up at me, his gaze reverting to the pure disgust of someone looking at trash. “Sutton, you absolute monster!” I forced out the last sliver of strength I had, my voice hoarse. “Pierce, she admitted it! She had the brake lines cut! She wanted my kidney…” “Enough!” Pierce cut me off, pressing his hand dangerously close to the edge of my fresh incision. “Sutton, how long are you going to keep lying?” “Tiff is suffering from crippling kidney pain—and you just happened to be a match? Is that a coincidence?” “You investigated her, didn’t you? You knew she needed a donor.” “So you deliberately rigged your medical reports, hoping to use this as leverage over me. Isn’t that right?” I was stunned into silence. The sheer narcissistic delusion left me speechless. Behind Pierce, Tiff flashed me a triumphant, hateful smirk. “Pierce.” She spoke softly, her finger gently tugging at his cuff. “The doctor said one kidney might not be enough. My rejection rate is… severe.” “If I had two, the success rate would be much, much higher.” The air thickened, turning solid. Pierce didn’t even look at me. He just stared at the surgeon. “Will she die?” I fought against the searing post-op pain, screaming instinctively. “Pierce Hollingsworth, are you even human?!” “Without two kidneys, how could I possibly survive? Where is your mind?!” Tiff pressed her body against his. “Pierce, darling, she won’t die.” “The mortality rate is only one percent. Giving me the kidney secures you that multi-billion dollar contract.” Pierce stood silent for a long moment. Then, he spoke. “Do it.” “Sutton, if the surgery is a success, I’ll take you to Iceland to see the Aurora Borealis, just like you always wanted. Would that be enough?” My heart died entirely. I watched the surgical blade approaching, closing my eyes. And I shouted one name. “MOM!” The very next second, the operating room door was violently kicked off its hinges. The door frame splintered and flew off like a flimsy sheet of paper. Three people stood in the frame. My mother, Vivian, in a perfectly tailored black suit, carrying a sleek presentation box of professional knives she’d bought at the airport duty-free. Her smile was soft and elegant. My father, Arthur, in a crisp, old-school Mandarin-collar jacket, casually playing with a small scalpel. A bodyguard lay in a bloody mess at his feet. My brother, Dr. Spencer Caldwell, wore a pristine white lab coat and thin gold-rimmed glasses. He looked handsome and harmless, like a mild-mannered resident. He adjusted his glasses, his eyes, however, sweeping over me on the table with cold menace. Finally, he looked at Pierce, his voice as gentle as a dinner invitation. “Brother-in-law. Excuse the intrusion.” “Tell me, what method of death would you prefer?”