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.

Aria’s POV

When I opened my eyes again, I almost wished I hadn’t.

Every inch of my body throbbed as if I had been beaten from the inside out. There was a hollow weight in my chest, a strange emptiness that felt worse than pain.

“Mrs. Russo… you’re awake.”

A female doctor stood beside the bed, relief flickering across her face. “We were afraid we might lose you.”

My throat felt scorched raw. My limbs were heavy, bruised, foreign. I blinked against the harsh hospital lights, disoriented. For a few seconds, I didn’t understand where I was or why my body felt like it had survived a war.

Then it all came back.

The transfusion. Enzo’s order. The dizziness. The shouting. The darkness swallowing me whole.

My heart began to pound.

I turned my head slowly toward the doctor, dread crawling through my veins.

She was trying to maintain a professional expression, but I saw it—the sympathy.

“My baby…” The words scraped out of my throat. “Is my baby…?”

She hesitated.

That single pause told me everything.

My stomach dropped as though I were falling from a great height. The doctor inhaled carefully and shook her head.

“I’m very sorry,” she said softly. “We tried everything. But the pregnancy couldn’t be saved.”

For a moment, the world went silent.

Then the sound that came out of me didn’t feel human.

It tore from somewhere deep and broken. My chest constricted violently, as if someone had punched straight through my ribs. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t accept it.

I had thought I was beyond tears.

I was wrong.

I sobbed until my body shook, until my throat burned, until the grief felt like it might split me open. I cried for the child I had already imagined holding. For the tiny heartbeat that had existed inside me. For the miracle I had chosen too late.

And for the man who had stolen it from me.

A part of me wished I had gone through with the abortion that morning, before I allowed myself to hope. Losing the baby now—after choosing it—felt like being carved open alive.

The doctor stayed quietly by my side, giving me space to break.

Eventually, the sobs faded into ragged breathing. I wiped my face with trembling hands, though the tears kept coming anyway.

Dominic.

The thought cut through the fog.

“What day is it?” I asked hoarsely.

“It’s Thursday,” she replied gently. “You’ve been unconscious for two days.”

Two days.

I calculated quickly. The three days Dominic had given me were nearly gone.

“I need my phone,” I said urgently, trying to sit up despite the sharp pain that protested through my abdomen.

“It’s in the drawer beside you,” she said, moving to help, but I was already reaching for it.

My hands trembled as I typed.

—I accept. Meet me at the orphanage in three hours.—

The response came almost immediately.

—Finally. I was starting to think you would hesitate forever.—

I stared at the screen for a moment before replying.

—I won’t.—

The doctor studied me carefully. “Is there anything else you need?”

I forced a brittle smile. “Did anyone come to see me?”

Her expression shifted slightly.

“No,” she admitted. “No one.”

Of course not.

Enzo hadn’t come. Camilla hadn’t come. The so-called family I had sacrificed everything for hadn’t bothered to check if I was alive.

Strangely, I didn’t feel the sharp sting I expected.

I felt nothing.

Just an emptiness where something precious had once been.

I turned my face toward the wall and lay there quietly until I heard the soft click of the door closing behind her.

After a while, I pushed the blanket off.

Every movement sent a surge of pain through my body. My stitches pulled. My muscles screamed in protest. I ignored it all.

A nurse entering the room froze when she saw me attempting to stand.

“Mrs. Russo, you shouldn’t be out of bed. You’ve lost significant blood. You need more rest—”

“I’m leaving,” I said evenly.

She blinked. “You’re not cleared for discharge. We haven’t even completed—”

“I’m not asking for permission,” I cut in, my voice steady but devoid of warmth. “Bring me whatever forms you need signed.”

She hesitated, clearly torn between procedure and something in my expression that warned her not to argue.

After a moment, she nodded and left.

When she returned with the paperwork, I signed without reading.

Standing upright felt like walking through fire. My legs trembled under my own weight. My back ached with every step. But pain was easier to endure than staying in that room another second.

I gathered my belongings and stepped into the hallway.

Halfway down the corridor, something made me slow.

Through the glass window of a private suite, I caught sight of Enzo.

He stood beside Camilla’s bed, his posture relaxed. She was sitting upright now, laughing softly at something he had said. Her cheeks were no longer pale. There were no machines beeping frantically around her.

They looked… comfortable.

Untouched by the chaos that had nearly killed me.

Enzo leaned down and kissed her forehead.

And neither of them looked even remotely concerned.

Aria’s POV

Enzo was sitting beside Camilla’s bed, holding a porcelain bowl in one hand and a spoon in the other, blowing gently on the soup before lifting it carefully to her lips. He watched her with an expression so tender it almost looked like devotion.

There had been a time when that sight would have broken me.

Now, I felt absolutely nothing.

No jealousy. No pain. No anger.

Just emptiness.

I turned quietly, intending to leave before either of them noticed me, but fate had never been kind to me.

“Aria?”

His voice reached me before I could take another step.

I paused, jaw tightening, then slowly turned back.

Enzo’s expression shifted the instant our eyes met. Whatever softness he had been wearing for Camilla vanished, replaced by something close to guilt.

“I didn’t know you were awake,” he said awkwardly, rising from the chair beside her. “How are you feeling?”

I said nothing.

I simply looked at him.

The silence stretched between us, heavy and deliberate. My stare did not waver.

He dropped his gaze first.

“What you did…” he began carefully, lifting his eyes again. “It mattered. Camilla is stable. The baby is strong. You saved them.”

A hollow laugh slipped from my lips before I could stop it.

It wasn’t loud, but it was sharp enough to make him flinch.

Camilla rested her hand over her stomach with theatrical tenderness. “Enzo hasn’t left my side once,” she said sweetly, her eyes gleaming. “He’s been incredible.”

I didn’t respond.

There was nothing left to say.

I turned to walk away again, but Enzo stepped forward quickly, reaching out.

“Wait. Please.”

I stopped, not because I cared, but because I was curious how far his audacity would go.

“I’m hosting a gathering tonight,” he continued, as though nothing catastrophic had happened between us. “To celebrate your recovery… and Camilla’s safe discharge. It’s been a difficult few days. I thought it would be good to bring everyone together. My father will attend. He wants to see you.”

I remained silent.

He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Let me drive you home. We’re heading back anyway.”

“I’m not going home,” I replied evenly.

His brows drew together. “Then where?”

“The orphanage.”

I kept my tone flat.

Dominic had promised that once I agreed, the orphanage would be untouchable. I intended to make sure every document, every protection, every legal shield was in place. Enzo would never use it against me again.

Enzo blinked. “Why the orphanage?”

I tilted my head slightly. “I have matters to settle.”

Camilla suddenly perked up. “Oh, that’s lovely,” she said brightly. “I’ve been meaning to visit. It was our father’s project, after all.”

I looked at her with mild surprise.

She had always despised the orphanage. Called it sentimental. A waste of resources.

Enzo nodded immediately. “Then we’ll all go together.”

I studied him carefully.

This was the same man who once complained that the orphanage drained funds better used for “real investments.” The same man who rolled his eyes every time I mentioned renovations or donations.

Yet now, because Camilla suggested it, he agreed without hesitation.

A faint scoff escaped me.

“Fine,” I said coolly. “You can come.”

He looked relieved, almost hopeful.

“But before we leave,” I added, reaching into my bag, “I need your signature.”

He straightened slightly. “On what?”

I handed him the folded document I had been carrying since the night he brought Camilla into our home.

He took it, scanning the first page briefly. “What is this?”

“My hospital discharge paperwork,” I replied calmly.

He hesitated.

Enzo Russo never signed anything without reading it thoroughly. Contracts, agreements, internal syndicate arrangements—he reviewed every detail with obsessive caution.

For a brief second, I saw that instinct flicker.

Then Camilla shifted in the bed.

“I’m exhausted,” she murmured softly. “Can we go soon?”

Enzo glanced at her, and whatever caution he possessed evaporated.

He signed.

Without reading a single line.

He handed the papers back absentmindedly and moved immediately to help Camilla stand.

I slipped the document back into my bag, a faint, satisfied curve touching my lips.

“Thank you,” I said quietly. “I’m free now.”

He didn’t catch the meaning.

He was too busy adjusting Camilla’s coat, murmuring reassurances, completely unaware that he had just signed away far more than a hospital form.