Aria’s POV

His warning echoed in my ears long after he finished speaking.

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. The doctor’s words—miracle… your only chance—collided violently with everything that had happened over the past few days. My heart hammered so hard it hurt.

My hand drifted instinctively to my stomach again.

I thought about the nights I had cried alone in the Russo estate, staring at the ceiling while Enzo slept beside me. I remembered the hollow ache every time another mafia wife announced her pregnancy at some formal gathering, the way I would excuse myself before anyone noticed the tears in my eyes. I remembered praying in silence for something—anything—that would fill the emptiness I carried.

And now that miracle was here.

And I had been ready to erase it because of a man who had already erased me.

The realization shattered whatever restraint I had left. Tears spilled freely as I covered my mouth, my shoulders trembling. The thought of willingly ending the only life that had chosen me felt unbearable.

“No,” I said hoarsely, shaking my head. “I can’t.”

The doctor studied me carefully. “You’ve changed your mind?”

“I’m keeping this baby,” I replied, my voice unsteady but resolute. “I don’t care if I have to do it on my own. This child isn’t a mistake. It’s the only blessing I’ve been given.”

A faint smile touched his face. “Then we’ll make sure you receive proper care. With your history, we’ll monitor you closely.”

When I stepped out of the hospital later, the air felt lighter somehow. For the first time in days, I felt something stronger than despair.

In three days, I would walk away.

And this time, I wouldn’t be alone.

“Aria!”

The sharp call of my name froze me mid-step.

Enzo.

I turned slowly, tension coiling through my body. He crossed the hospital entrance in long strides and grabbed my arm before I could speak, his fingers digging in tight.

“Thank God I caught you,” he said, breath uneven, eyes alert in a way that told me this wasn’t about reconciliation.

I pulled my arm slightly. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Camilla,” he replied quickly. “She’s been admitted.”

I blinked. “Admitted?”

“She ran a fever all night,” he said, his tone sharpening. “After what you did to her.”

My jaw tightened. “I didn’t touch her.”

He ignored that entirely. “She collapsed this morning. The doctors say she’s dehydrated and weak. They need to give her blood.”

My stomach twisted. “And?”

Enzo’s gaze locked onto mine. “Her blood type is rare. You’re a universal donor. You’re the only compatible match available immediately.”

For a second, I simply stared at him.

“You want me to donate blood to her?” I asked quietly.

“This isn’t about pride,” he snapped. “It’s about saving my child.”

He started pulling me toward the entrance.

I resisted, digging my heels into the pavement. “There are blood banks. Private reserves. You control half the city’s hospitals. Why me?”

He turned sharply, eyes hard. “Because this is happening because of you.”

The accusation stunned me. “She lied to you!”

“I don’t have time for your paranoia,” he cut in coldly. “She’s carrying my heir. If anything happens to her—”

Something inside me cracked.

“I’m pregnant,” I said.

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

He went still.

“What did you just say?”

“I’m pregnant,” I repeated, louder now, my voice trembling despite myself. “The doctor confirmed it. It’s high risk. If I donate blood, it could endanger the baby.”

The silence stretched painfully.

Then he laughed.

It wasn’t disbelief. It was contempt.

“You expect me to believe that?” he said, shaking his head slowly. “You think inventing a pregnancy is going to get you out of this?”

“I’m not lying,” I whispered, tears rising again despite my effort to stay composed. “You know what the doctors said after the accident. They called this impossible. It’s a miracle.”

His expression hardened further. “You’ve always wanted leverage. Now you think this is clever.”

“Enzo—”

“Enough.” His voice dropped into something final. “You will donate. That’s not a request.”

Anger surged through me, stronger than fear this time. I pulled my arm free.

“I won’t,” I said, meeting his gaze without flinching. “I won’t risk my child for her.”

His face darkened.

“You’d let someone die because of jealousy?” he demanded.

“I won’t sacrifice my baby,” I replied firmly. “Not for Camilla. Not for you.”

The fury in his eyes burned bright.

“If you walk away from this,” he said slowly, his jaw clenched tight, “I will personally tear down that orphanage your father built. Brick by brick. And I’ll make sure you’re there to watch.”

The threat landed exactly where he intended.

The orphanage was the last living piece of my father’s legacy. The only place in this city untouched by blood money and power games.

Enzo knew that.

He leaned closer, his voice low and lethal. “Choose carefully, Aria.”

And in that moment, I realized something with absolute clarity.

I was no longer afraid of losing him.

I was afraid of what I was about to become if I stayed.

Aria's POV

Ice flooded my veins the second he mentioned the orphanage again.

He knew exactly where to strike. That building wasn’t just charity work funded by dirty money. It was my father’s last clean legacy in a world soaked in blood. He had built it long before alliances with the Russo family, before power hardened him completely. The children there were the only innocent thing left in my life.

“You wouldn’t dare,” I whispered, though my voice betrayed me.

Enzo stepped closer until I could feel the heat of his anger. His mouth twisted, not into doubt, but into challenge. “Test me.”

For a moment I simply stared at him. This was the man I had once trusted with every fragile piece of myself. The man who had promised to protect what I loved. Now he was threatening to burn it down.

My hand drifted to my stomach again. Silent tears slipped down my cheeks.

When he grabbed my wrist and started pulling me toward Camilla’s wing of the hospital, I didn’t fight this time. I followed, numb, the threat echoing in my ears.

He had secured a private VIP suite for her, the kind reserved for politicians and cartel leaders. Camilla lay on the hospital bed surrounded by machines that beeped steadily, an IV line running into her arm. She looked pale, eyes closed, lips slightly parted as though she were barely conscious.

Enzo rushed to her instantly.

“I’m here,” he said, his voice softening in a way I hadn’t heard directed at me in months. He clasped her hand gently. “You’re going to be fine. I brought Aria.”

Camilla let out a weak, trembling sound. “Enzo… it hurts… everything hurts…”

I stood near the door, watching my husband bend over her with tenderness that felt like a knife twisting inside my ribs. He brushed her hair away from her face, murmuring reassurances.

Then he turned to call for the doctor.

The second his back was to her, Camilla’s eyelids fluttered open.

One eye.

She looked straight at me.

And she winked.

A slow, deliberate wink, followed by the faintest curve of her lips.

My blood roared in my ears.

Was this entire spectacle a performance? Was I about to risk my child for an act staged by a woman who enjoyed humiliating me?

Rage tightened my fists.

I stepped forward, ready to expose her, but Enzo’s hand shot out and gripped mine hard enough to bruise. His fingers dug into my skin in silent warning. His stare was sharp, unmistakable.

Don’t.

The memory of his threat regarding the orphanage snapped me back into place.

The door opened again, and a physician entered. Enzo moved toward her immediately.

“She’s deteriorating,” he said. “Start the transfusion.”

The doctor checked the monitors calmly. “Her vitals are stable for now. We can delay until we confirm—”

Camilla whimpered louder.

Enzo’s patience snapped. “The donor is here,” he said curtly, gesturing toward me as if I were nothing more than medical equipment.

The doctor’s gaze shifted to me briefly before she nodded and instructed the nurses to prepare.

Cold sweat trickled down my back as I watched them ready the tray. I had always hated needles. Enzo knew that. In the past, he would have stood beside me, holding my hand, distracting me until it was over.

For a fleeting second, he looked at me as though he remembered that too. His hand hovered near mine.

Then Camilla made another fragile sound.

Enzo withdrew instantly and returned to her bedside, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as though I had ceased to exist.

Something inside my chest tightened painfully.

I turned my face away as the nurse approached with the needle. My stomach churned with fear—not of the injection, but of what it might cost.

Please, I begged silently. Please let something stop this.

Just as the doctor lifted the needle toward my arm, the door burst open.

“Stop!”

Another physician hurried inside, holding a file, breathless.

Everyone froze.

He looked directly at Enzo. “Mrs. Russo is pregnant.”

The doctor holding the needle paused mid-motion and stepped back.

Enzo stared at the newcomer as though he had spoken nonsense. “That’s impossible.”

“She was scheduled for a termination this morning,” the doctor continued quickly, holding out the chart. “She canceled. The test results are here.”

Enzo took the file, scanning it with narrowed eyes.

Relief flooded me so suddenly my knees nearly gave out. Proof. Finally, proof that I hadn’t lied. That I wasn’t inventing stories to escape responsibility.

I exhaled for what felt like the first time in hours.

Then Enzo closed the file.

His voice, when he spoke, was colder than I had ever heard it.

“Proceed.”

The word didn’t register at first.

My eyes widened slowly. “What did you say?”

He didn’t look at me.

“I said take the blood.”

Aria’s POV

The room fell into stunned silence.

The doctors and nurses exchanged uneasy glances, disbelief etched across their faces.

“Mr. Russo,” one of the senior nurses began cautiously, “your wife cannot donate. You heard the diagnosis. Mrs. Russo is pregnant, and the pregnancy is unstable. Even minor complications could cost her the baby.”

Enzo didn’t blink.

“I heard,” he replied evenly, stepping forward with cold authority. “Proceed.”

The attending physician swallowed. “Sir, this violates medical protocol. We could lose both mother and child.”

“I don’t give a damn about protocol,” Enzo cut in, his voice sharp as a blade. “You’re being paid very well. Do your job.”

My lungs felt tight, like there wasn’t enough air in the room. I stared at him in disbelief.

This was the man I had once trusted with my life. The man who had sworn to protect me. Now he stood there, ordering doctors to gamble with our child as if it were expendable.

Enzo’s jaw hardened as he surveyed the staff. “If anyone here refuses, I will shut this hospital down by tomorrow morning. I own half the board members. Don’t test me.”

The threat wasn’t empty. Everyone in the city knew what the Russo name could do.

The nurse turned to me, her voice softer now. “Mrs. Russo… we need your consent.”

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Enzo.

“You told me you wanted a child,” I said slowly, my voice trembling. “Now that you finally have one, you’re ready to sacrifice it over a staged fever?”

His expression darkened. “You were going to terminate it this morning.”

“I changed my mind,” I shot back. “You heard the doctor.”

He exhaled impatiently. “Camilla’s pregnancy is stable. Yours is fragile. The specialists already said you may lose it regardless.”

My stomach dropped.

“So you’re choosing hers over mine?”

“It’s not about choosing,” he said, though his tone suggested otherwise. “Her vitals are unstable. She needs blood. Your pregnancy is uncertain at best. You might not carry it past the first trimester.”

The words echoed hollowly in my ears.

This wasn’t medicine.

This was preference.

And I wasn’t the one he preferred.

“You’ve already decided,” I whispered.

For a fraction of a second, something unreadable crossed his face. But before he could answer, Camilla let out another weak cough from the bed.

Enzo turned immediately, rushing back to her side.

That was answer enough.

A strange calm settled over me.

There was no point in arguing anymore. He had already made up his mind. The staff were trapped by his power, just as I was.

The nurse squeezed my arm gently. “Mrs. Russo… please. We need a clear answer.”

I looked at Enzo one last time.

He didn’t even glance back.

My throat tightened, but I forced the words out. “Do it.”

The doctor moved quickly. The needle Russod my skin, and dark red flowed into the tubing.

I didn’t flinch.

I didn’t cry.

I simply stared at the polished floor tiles and tried to steady my breathing.

At first, it was just a faint wave of lightheadedness.

Then it intensified.

My chest constricted sharply, and a cold dizziness swept through me.

Something wasn’t right.

I tried to lift my head, but my vision blurred around the edges. My heartbeat pounded violently, uneven and too fast.

The nurse monitoring me glanced at the screen and went pale. “Her pressure is dropping!”

“Stop the transfusion,” the doctor ordered urgently, rushing toward me. “She’s crashing!”

Camilla whimpered loudly.

“No!” Enzo barked, shoving the doctor aside hard enough to stagger him. “Keep going. Camilla needs it!”

“She’s stable!” a nurse shouted. “Her vitals are normal!”

“You don’t know that!” Enzo roared. “Look at her. She’s in pain!”

Another sharp wave of agony tore through my abdomen, and I cried out despite myself.

Enzo didn’t look at me.

Not once.

All of his attention remained fixed on Camilla.

The room spun violently. My body felt like it was slipping away from me, like I was no longer fully inside it. I tasted iron at the back of my throat.

So this was how it ended.

Not in a gunfight. Not in a betrayal exposed.

But in a hospital room, sacrificed for another woman’s lie.

Regret flooded me as Dominic’s face surfaced in my mind. The way he had said finally, as if he had always known this moment would come. I had asked him to wait.

I had hesitated.

The medical staff were arguing with Enzo now, voices raised in panic, but he stood firm, unmoved, staring at Camilla like she was the only person who mattered.

My lips moved weakly.

“God… please…” I breathed, barely audible. “Protect my baby…”

The ceiling lights blurred.

The voices faded.

And then everything went dark.