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 source.”
I didn’t know any of that.
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