Marcella's POV
I opened my eyes and instantly knew something wasn’t right.
The expected rhythmic beeping of hospital equipment was absent. There were no gentle cries of a newborn or the soothing whispers of family. Instead, there was an unsettling silence.
I attempted to move, but my body wouldn’t cooperate. Panic surged within me as I tried to sit up, only to be met with a sharp, excruciating pain in my back.
My breath hitched, and I paused, taking a moment to assess my condition. That’s when I realized—my stomach was flat.
A wave of panic washed over me as my mind raced, desperately asking the question I dreaded. Where was my baby?
Fear coursed through me, and tears welled in my eyes. I fought to remain calm and think clearly, even as terror gripped me.
Just before I could call out, the door creaked open, and I instinctively closed my eyes, pretending to be asleep and listened as footsteps approached.
“Spare me the nonsense, Doctor,” Titus snapped, his deep voice laced with irritation. I froze. I’d recognize that voice anywhere.
“Why are you crying more than the bereaved? Do you know how disgusted I feel knowing I’ll still have to see her face and go through another round of pretenses? How did she even survive? She was supposed to die.”
“But — Boss, that child had a chance to live, why did you turn off the life support?” The doctor asked, frustration evident in his voice.
Titus let out a harsh laugh, the sound so cold made my skin crawl. “A chance?” he repeated mockingly. “That child was as good as dead before he was even born,” Titus replied coldly, his tone devoid of feeling. “I never wanted that baby in the first place.”
Shock coursed through me, and I struggled to keep my breathing steady.
“I made it clear from the beginning that Vynessa is the one I love,” Titus continued, his words cutting through me like a blade. “Her son will carry my name, not Marcella’s.”
Vynessa? My sister? Or was there another Vanessa I didn’t know about?
I fought to comprehend what I was hearing. My sister, whom I loved and trusted, had betrayed me? Why? What had I done to deserve this?
Pain twisted in my chest as a tear rolled down my cheek. I wanted to scream, to confront him, to demand answers, but I remained silent, desperate to grasp the extent of their betrayal.
The doctor’s voice turned gentle, his tone careful. “Donna Marcella has already endured so much—losing her child and her ability to walk. Please, allow me to perform reconstructive surgery on her burns.”
Titus let out a harsh, mocking laugh. “And why would I agree to that? So she can outshine Vynessa? No. Let her remain like this. Let her wake up every day tormented by her losses. With her out of the picture, Vynessa will rightfully assume her role as the Donna of the Lombardi family.”
A wave of nausea surged through me, and I swallowed hard trying not to vomit.
“But sir,” the doctor interjected cautiously, “this could lead her to… dark thoughts. Even suicide—”
“That’s not my concern,” Titus cut him off dismissively and hissed loudly. “The faster it happens, the better for me”
The doctor shifted uncomfortably, and I could sense his hesitation. “Boss… with all due respect, I didn’t sign up for this,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “I became a doctor to save lives, not to—”
Titus’s cold, menacing laugh cut him off. “Save lives?” he repeated mockingly. “Let me remind you, Doctor, that you’re only standing here right now because I allow it.”
The doctor cleared his throat nervously, but Titus wasn’t finished. His tone dropped lower, colder. “Don’t forget who’s been funding this fancy private clinic of yours or who got your girlfriend into that cushy job at the law firm”
The silence stretched, thick and oppressive, before Titus spoke again, his words slow and deliberate.
“Imagine what would happen if I pulled the plug on all that.” He leaned in closer, and I could almost feel the icy chill of his breath in the room.
“Imagine if the government found out that you’ve been treating the most dangerous mafia family in the country off the books. No license. No protection. Just you, alone, rotting in a prison cell while your precious little fiancée moves on.”
The doctor’s breathing hitched as he clenched and unclenched his fingers.
“And let’s not forget your daughter,” Titus continued, his voice a low, dangerous purr. “How old is she now? Eight? Nine? Such a sweet girl. It’d be a shame if anything happened to her.”
“You wouldn’t,” the doctor whispered, his voice trembling with barely restrained fury.
“Try me,” Titus said simply, and for a moment, the room was so quiet I could hear the doctor’s ragged breathing.
