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Serena’s pov
“Mrs. Romano, without a deposit, we’ll have to discontinue treatment .”
The words land like a slap.
I stand frozen in the narrow hospital corridor, the smell of antiseptic burning my nose. My fingers are clenched so tightly around the strap of my handbag that my knuckles ache. The doctor looks at me with that careful, practiced sympathy,the kind people reserve for someone they’ve already written off.
“How much time do I have?” I ask. My voice barely holds together.
“Today,” he says gently. “Your mother needs surgery immediately. If we don’t receive the deposit by this evening, the hospital administration will have no choice but to discharge her.”
Discharge her? My heart lurches. “But she’ll die,” I whisper.
He doesn’t deny it. He simply shakes his head and turns his attention back to the papers on his desk.
I stumble out of the office, my legs trembling as I fumble for my phone. Antonio will fix this. He always does. He has to, he’s my husband, my partner. The man I built my entire life around.
I dial his number.
Voicemail!! My fingers ached…
I try again.
The person you are calling is unavailable.
My chest tightens, panic clawing up my throat. I force myself to breathe. Antonio has been busy lately, important meetings, powerful people, the Romano family finally recognizing his worth. He told me to be patient. He promised everything we sacrificed would pay off soon.
I step into the hospital lobby, my thoughts spinning, when a familiar voice echoes from the mounted television.
“—breaking business news this morning. Antonio Romano has officially been appointed as the new managing director of Romano Holdings—”
I stop dead.
The screen flashes to Antonio’s face. My Antonio. Impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, he exuded confidence with every contour of his figure Cameras go off as he shakes hands with guys in fancy suits, reporters shouting his name like he's part of the scene
For a moment, the world tilts.
Then tears fill my eyes not from pain, but relief.
“Oh my God,” I breathe, a shaky smile spreading across my face. “You did it.”
Memories crash into me. Late nights waiting up for him. Selling my jewelry to cover rent. Quitting my job because he asked me to focus on our home, on him. Believing in him when even his own family dismissed him as weak.
And now he’s finally at the top.
He can pay for my mother’s surgery.
Everything is going to be okay.
I hurry outside, dialing him again, excitement buzzing through the fear.
Voicemail.
I frown, then shake my head. He's likely in the midst of a crowd, getting pats on the back I’ll see him at home. I'll catch him off guard at the office later
As I turn back toward the elevators, I catch sight of a familiar figure striding ahead of me.
Antonio.
My heart leaps. “Antonio!” I call.
He doesn’t turn.
He steps into the elevator just as the doors slide shut. I rush forward, but it’s too late. I watch the numbers climb, my reflection staring back at me in the mirrored doors…hopeful, anxious, devoted.
I press the call button for the next elevator, my pulse racing.
When the doors open, I step inside and ride it up, barely registering the floor numbers lighting up until the doors slide open again.
Maternity Unit.
I frown.
Unease creeps in as I step out, following the sound of familiar laughter down the corridor.
Then I see him.
Antonio stands near the nurses’ station, his arm wrapped protectively around a woman with a swollen belly stretched beneath a luxurious cream-colored dress. She’s beautiful in an effortless, polished way. Designer heels, diamond bracelet catching the light. Her hand rests possessively over Antonio’s chest.
They’re smiling at each other.
Intimately.
My breath catches. “Antonio?”
My voice sounds wrong in my own ears.
He stiffens.
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