Isla's POV

The fluorescent lights of the hospital corridor buzzed faintly as I stepped back inside. All I wanted was to collapse beside my children’s beds and stay there until their eyes opened again.

But the moment I turned the corner, I froze.

She was waiting for me.

“You witch!” Javier’s mother spat the word like venom.

Before I could react, her palm cracked across my face. My head snapped sideways, heat blooming across my cheek.

“You tried to kill my grandchildren!” she shrieked, her voice echoing down the sterile hall. “You worthless orphan—how dare you pretend you could raise a Carlucci child?”

I heard the gasps. Nurses stopped what they were doing. Patients in wheelchairs turned their heads. The shame scalded hotter than the fire ever had.

Her nails dug into my arm as she yanked me forward. My blouse tore with a sharp rip, silk splitting at the shoulder. "You don't deserve them," she hissed. "Javier should have married a woman of class. Not some stray from the gutter."

Whispers hissed around me.

“Maybe she really was careless.”

“I heard she left candles burning.”

“She doesn’t even look like a mother.”

And then— Sofia.

She stood just behind Javier's mother, head bowed like a grieving angel. But her lips curved into the faintest smirk.

“Auntie, please,” she murmured,sweetly. “Don’t make a scene. Isla’s been through so much.”

“That’s enough.” Javier’s voice cut through the chaos as he strode toward us. For a second, I thought he might defend me. That he might finally put his mother and cousin in their place.

But he only put an arm around his mother’s shoulders and said, “It was an accident. Isla didn’t mean it. Let’s not let things escalate.”

An accident.

He knew the truth. He knew who the real culprit was.

And still he chose to let me burn.

This wasn't the first time Sofia had tried to hurt my children. Only the first time she'd almost succeeded.

When they finally left, I sank into the chair outside my children's ward, shaking. By dawn, my body ached and my eyes were raw. Sleep never came.

That morning, I forced myself to stand —only to see the door to the twins' room cracked open.

Inside, Sofia sat by my daughter’s bed. Her blood red nails glittered as she held a juice box to her lips.

"Go on, Amanda," she coaxed. "Just a sip. Auntie brought it special for you."

Amanda shook her head weakly. "Mommy says... no sugar."

Because of her diabetic condition, sugar wasn't just forbidden. It was deadly.

"Don't be silly," Sofia crooned, tilting it closer. "One sip won't hurt."

"Step away from her!" My voice ripped through the room as I charged inside.

She flinched, but her hand didn't move. I tore the box from her grip and flung it across the room in rage. Sticky liquid splattered across her silk dress, dripping down her perfect blonde hair.

"How dare you," I hissed. "You know Amanda can't have sugar. Were you trying to kill her?"

Amanda whimpered, clutching my hand.

The door banged open. Javier.

His eyes swept the scene. Sofia drenched, trembling with fake tears, me shaking with fury.

"She attacked me," Sofia gasped, voice breaking. "I was only trying to help... to make peace with the children... and she—she threw it at me—"

"You lying snake!" I snapped. "I caught you forcing her to drink sugar!"

"Isla." Javier's voice was hard. "Calm down. You're overreacting!"

Overreacting? My child's life had been in danger.

"Get her out, Javier," I said, my voice ice. "I don't want her near me. I don't want her near my children. Ever again."

His jaw flexed. After a long pause, he guided her away, her sobs echoing down the corridor.

I pressed Amanda to me, whispering into her hair. "I'll never let her hurt you again."

But later that night, when I stepped outside to breathe, I felt Sofia’s eyes on me.

Waiting in the shadow of the stairwell.

"You ruined everything," she seethed. The sweetness was gone, her face twisted with hate.

"Those brats stole what was mine. They should've never been born."

Before I could reply, she shoved me.

My shoulder slammed the railing, pain hitting my arm. I caught myself, but she shoved again.

Harder.

We both went tumbling.

Concrete blurred past. My body crashed against the steps, agony tearing through my side. Blood filled my mouth.

Sofia screamed louder than a banshee beside me, reaching for the rail.

Then—Javier. His voice. His arms.

But not around me. Around her.

He pulled Sofia up first, holding her trembling body against his chest as if she were the one who had

nearly died.

And me? I lay crumpled on the hard floor, gasping.

Our eyes met for one fleeting second. He looked at me. Then looked away.

The betrayal burned hotter than the pain.

Isla's POV

The ward was too quiet. Only the steady hum of the IV pump and the shallow ache in my ribs reminded me I was still alive.

I lay propped against the pillows, arm bound in plaster, side wrapped tight. Every breath stabbed sharp, but none as sharp as the memory of Javier pulling Sofia up from the stairwell... and leaving me there.

Hours later, he finally came. A tray of food in his hands, his expression dark.

"You should have been more careful," he said. "The doctors said you could've broken your neck too."

I almost laughed. The sound came out raw. “Careful? She attacked me. But it doesn’t matter since you chose her. Again.”

His jaw tightened, eyes cold. "I know you pushed her. Second time you tried to hurt her in the same fucking day. She has bruises. Do you realize how this looks? You've made yourself look really crazy."

Was my own injury a joke to him?

"Crazy?" I snapped, my voice cracking. "She set fire to our home. She tried to kill me tonight. And you're worried about appearances?"

He looked away, dismissing me with a flick of his hand. "Just stop."

Before I could scream at him, the door burst open.

Flashbulbs exploded, almost blinding me. Reporters poured in, shouting over one another.

"Mrs. Carlucci, is it true you attacked Sofia Carlucci twice today?"

"Is it true the fire started because of your negligence?"

"Your mother's foundation supports hundreds of children—do you still plan to run it after nearly killing your own?"

And then Sofia appeared. Dressed in white, a soft bandage wrapped around her ankle. She definitely tipped them off.

She looked like some tragic angel as she limped inside, hand pressed delicately to her chest.

"I didn't want this," she whispered, just loud enough for every microphone to catch. "But Isla's temper... it scares me. She pushed me down the stairs. I only pray she doesn't hurt herself—or the children."

Cameras clicked furiously.

I shot up despite the pain. "You are such a liar. Just wait till I get my hands on you!"

Javier gripped my good arm. "Calm the heck down. Don’t make things worse!" he growled under his breath.

Sofia gave a fragile smile, eyes wet. "Please, don't blame her. She's the twins' mother. I only want peace."

The reporters ate it up. By the time the nurses forced them out, my body was shaking so violently I thought my stitches would tear.

I wanted to scream. To claw her face apart until the mask ripped away. But all I could do was sit there, while the whole world believed her saint and me the monster.

Hours passed. The hospital dimmed for the night.

When the nurse came to wheel me for scans, I asked her to stop by the twins' ward. I needed to see them

—to remind myself what I was fighting for.

But halfway down the corridor, I froze.

A door almost closed. Soft light spilled out. And with it, Javier’s voice. Husky. Intimate.

"Don't," he murmured. "Someone might hear."

Sofia's laugh slid like poison through the gap. "Let them. You've hidden me long enough."

My pulse thundered.

I pushed the door open an inch, just enough to see.

Sofia sat perched on the edge of the bed. Her dress hiked above her thighs. Javier knelt before her,—his lips pressing softly against her bandaged ankle.

He kissed higher, his hands sliding to her waist.

My chest went cold. They weren't touching like cousins!

Her head tipped back in a sigh. "I'm tired of sneaking around, Javier. It’s been years. I want everyone to know you're mine."

"They will. But if the Carluccis find out you're adopted, you lose everything-your father's estates, the stocks, the name. Right now, they think you're blood. That's your protection. We can't risk it."

"I don't care about protection anymore," she whispered fiercely. "I care about us. And I want her

gone."

His tone sharpened. "She's already unstable to the public. If we push it a little further, the board will sign off. One signature, and she's in an asylum. No more threat."

She chuckled, her fingers curling into his hair. "Perfect. While she's locked away, I'll step in."

He kissed her lips tenderly and murmured, "Soon, amore. I'll marry you. Quietly. And you’d be the mother to my kids. Hell, we can even make our own baby finally."

The world tilted.

I clutched my phone with shaking hands. For a second, I almost dropped it. But instead, I lifted it.

Pressed record.

If they thought I was broken, they were about to learn just how dangerous I could be.

ISLA’s POV

Javier didn't come back that night.

After I recorded their betrayal, I learned from the nurses he left. And he didn’t return.

Not to see me. Not to check on the twins.

I called. Again and again. Straight to voicemail.

By dawn, my body ached from the hard chair outside the twins' ward, but my eyes never closed.

I told myself I was going to use the evidence I had at the right time.

But then suddenly, the alarms went off.

"Code blue! Pediatric ICU!" a nurse shouted, her voice so sharp it made my ears ring.

"Who?" My voice cracked. "Who is it?"

The nurse didn't answer, but the words echoed back from inside the ward.

"Matteo Carlucci-code blue!"

My body moved before my brain. I lurched upright, pain exploding in my side and down my bound arm, but I ran anyway.

Through the window I saw the doctor and nurses swarming by his bed side.

Hands caught me, dragged me back. "Ma'am, you can't be in here!"

"My son is in there!" I yelled back.

Through the narrow glass, I saw his small body convulsing under the tangle of wires. His chest rose once, shuddered, then fell still.

"No-Matteo!" My palms slapped the glass until they stung.

Someone started compressions.

"His blood pressure's crashing-he's not stabilizing!"

"He's not responding!"

A sudden beep cut the silence, then his heart rhythm flickered back on the screen.

I sobbed so hard I nearly collapsed.

A doctor came out, peeling off his gloves. His face was grave.

"He's stable... for now. But his hemoglobin is dangerously low. We've checked the bank, and his type is one of the rarest. We can't source enough units in time."

My lips trembled. "What does that mean? Tell me plainly!"

"He needs an immediate transfusion from a direct relative. His father would be the safest and fastest match."

Javier.

"I'll call him," I whispered hoarsely, fumbling for my phone.

The line rang. Once. Twice. Voicemail. Again. Again.

Nothing.

"He's not answering," I choked.

"Then you need to get him here yourself," the doctor said firmly. "Minutes count. If you wait, your boy may not make it."

I ran.

All I felt was the wild pounding of my heart as I took a cab and stormed into Carlucci Enterprises.

"Ma'am, you can't just-"

I shoved past the receptionist and guards who gasped at the sight of me. Hair tangled, hospital gown half-hidden under my coat. I didn't stop until I reached the executive floor.

And there she was.

Sofia. Perched on his desk, like a queen, her short skirt riding high.

Javier sat in his leather chair, his hands on her thigh. Gaze soft.

Something inside me snapped.

"You!" I screamed. "How dare you sit here when your son is dying?!"

Javier jerked up, startled. "Isla-what the hell are you doing here?"

"He needs blood!" I lurched forward, voice breaking.

"Matteo's in surgery prep—your blood type is the only match!"

He blinked, confusion knitting his brow. "What are you talking about? The hospital told me an hour ago the twins were stable. They said to expect a full recovery."

"No! That was before-he's crashing, Javier!" I dragged his sleeve with my good hand, desperate. "If you don’t come now, he will die!"

Sofia slid gracefully off the desk, smoothing her skirt as if the sight of me amused her. "I was at the hospital earlier," she said sweetly. "The twins were fine. Maybe you’re overreacting again?"

I nearly clawed her face. "You liar! Do you think I'd run here begging if this wasn't life or death?"

Just then, a knock at the door. Javier's assistant stepped in, tablet in hand.

"Sir, your client is waiting upstairs. The board is ready to finalize the contract."

Javier rose slightly in his chair, his jaw tightening. "I don't have time for this, Isla. This deal is worth millions. I can't waste another second here."

I stared at him, stunned.

"You're choosing a contract over your child's life?" My voice shattered. "Or is this about her? About your filthy little affair?"

He frowned. “Have you lost your mind? Sofia is my cousin.”

"She is not your cousin!" I screamed, the words tearing from me before I could stop them. "And you've been fucking her this whole time! Was I nothing more than a cover to you?"

He froze, shock flickering in his eyes. But then it hardened like stone. "Everyone knows she's my cousin. Do not humiliate yourself with baseless accusations."

"Baseless?!" My laugh cracked, jagged and wild. "I heard you! I heard every word —you sick, disgusting—"

"Get out," he snapped, his voice cutting sharp as glass. "Leave before security drags you out."

He turned, walked away. Just like that.

“Guess I won and you lost,” Sofia smirked, fingers patting my shoulders before catwalking out of the office.

By the time I stumbled back into the hospital, out of breath, legs raw with exhaustion, it was too late.

Matteo lay still under the sheets. His skin white. A machine beeped one final flatline.

I collapsed, the pain threatening to rip me from my insides. Nurses tried to pull me back, but I clung to his tiny hand that was already cooling.

"I’m so sorry, Matteo. Mommy tried… Mommy tried…"

Hours passed in a blur. Silence swallowed the ward. My face was red and streaked with dry tears.

Then the door opened.

Javier. Jacket crisp. Tie straight. As if nothing in his world had changed.

He looked around the room, then frowned. "Where's Matteo? Did they move him to another ward?"

The nerve.

"Don't you dare take another step," I hissed, standing between him and the bed. "You killed him. Your own son, you shameless bastard!"

He blinked. Once. Twice. Then his jaw clenched.

"Isla..." His voice was low, edged with steel. "Do you think it's funny to make such an expensive joke about my child's life?"