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?"
