Isabella's POV
I dropped the phone.
My hands wouldn't stop shaking. Sofia was crashing. Again. And this time Dr. Patel's voice had sounded different. Scared. Like he didn't think she'd make it.
"Isabella." Alexander grabbed my good shoulder. "What did he say?"
"She's dying." The words came out flat. Empty. "Right now. While we're standing here talking, my baby is dying."
I pushed past him and ran toward the door. Pain shot through my wounded shoulder, but I didn't care. Nothing mattered except getting to Sofia.
The elevator took forever. I slammed my hand against the buttons over and over, like that would make it move faster.
Alexander caught up to me. "Isabella, wait—"
"No! I'm done waiting! I'm done with your games and your deals and your stupid hour deadline!" Tears streamed down my face. "My daughter is dying and you're asking me to choose between you and Dante Moretti like this is some kind of business transaction!"
"It is a business transaction."
I spun around and slapped him. Hard. My palm stung from the impact.
Alexander's head snapped to the side. A red mark bloomed on his cheek. But he didn't get angry. He just looked at me with those cold eyes.
"Feel better?" he asked calmly.
"No! I feel like my world is ending! I feel like everyone wants something from me but nobody actually cares about Sofia!" I hit his chest with my good hand. "You left me! You left us! And now you come back and act like you can just buy your way into being a father!"
The elevator dinged. The doors opened.
I ran out onto the third floor. Nurses were rushing into Sofia's room. Dr. Patel stood outside, his face grave.
"What's happening?" I tried to push past him, but he held me back.
"The team is working on her now. You need to let them do their job."
"That's my baby in there!"
"I know. And they're doing everything they can." He guided me away from the door. "But Isabella, we're running out of options. Her heart can't take much more stress. If we don't do the surgery within the next few hours..."
He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't have to.
"Then do the surgery."
"We need payment guaranteed first. Hospital policy. For a surgery this expensive—"
"I'll pay." Alexander appeared beside me. "Whatever it costs. I'll transfer the money right now."
Dr. Patel looked between us. "Mr. Romano, with all due respect, we need more than a promise. We need proof of funds, insurance verification—"
"I'll have my lawyers send everything within the hour." Alexander pulled out his phone. "But you need to start prepping for surgery now. Every minute counts."
"I can't authorize that without—"
"Then find someone who can!" Alexander's voice was sharp. Commanding. The voice of someone used to getting what he wanted. "My daughter is dying. I'm offering you more money than this hospital sees in a year. Make it happen."
Dr. Patel hesitated. Then he nodded and hurried away, already pulling out his phone.
I sagged against the wall. Everything hurt. My shoulder. My head. My heart.
"Thank you," I whispered.
"Don't thank me yet." Alexander was typing rapidly on his phone. "We still need to discuss the terms."
"Terms? Our daughter is dying and you're talking about terms?"
"This is how my world works, Isabella. Nothing is free. Not even between us." He finished typing and looked up at me. "My offer stands. I pay for everything—the surgery, the recovery, all future medical bills. In return, you marry me. We present ourselves as a family. And Sofia gets the Romano name and protection."
"What kind of protection?"
His jaw tightened. "You met Dante Moretti. You know what kind of world we live in. The Romano family has enemies. But we also have power. Resources. No one would dare touch Sofia if she's under my protection."
He was right. I hated it, but he was right.
"And after your father dies?" I asked. "What happens to us then?"
"We'll figure it out. Maybe we stay married. Maybe we quietly divorce. Maybe—" He stopped. "Maybe we learn to be a real family."
Before I could respond, the elevator doors opened again.
Dante Moretti stepped out.
His three men in black suits flanked him. They moved like shadows, silent and deadly.
"Mr. Romano," Dante said pleasantly. "What a surprise seeing you here."
"Moretti." Alexander moved slightly in front of me. "This is a hospital. Not a place for business."
"Funny, it looks like you're conducting business right now." Dante's eyes slid to me. "Hello again, Isabella. Have you thought about my offer?"
"She doesn't need your offer," Alexander said coldly. "I'm handling her daughter's medical expenses."
"Are you?" Dante smiled. "Because from what I hear, your family's finances aren't as stable as they used to be. Something about bad investments? Assets frozen by the FBI?"
Alexander's face went hard. "My finances are none of your concern."
"They are when you're making promises you can't keep." Dante turned to me. "Did he tell you, Isabella? Did he tell you that his family is under federal investigation? That their bank accounts might be seized any day now?"
My stomach dropped. "Is that true?"
"It's complicated," Alexander said.
"It's not complicated at all." Dante moved closer. His men followed. "The Romano family is in trouble. Big trouble. They need money fast, which is probably why Alexander here is so desperate to marry you and present a stable family image to his dying father."
"That's not—" Alexander started.
"Isn't it?" Dante's smile widened. "How much of the family fortune is left, Romano? Enough to pay for an experimental surgery? Enough to cover years of medical care? Or are you gambling that your father will die before the bills come due?"
I looked at Alexander. Really looked at him. And I saw the truth in his eyes.
He was scared. Not of Dante. Of failure. Of losing everything.
"You can't guarantee Sofia's care," I said slowly. "Can you?"
"I can once my father passes and I inherit—"
"Once he passes? That could be months from now! Sofia doesn't have months!" My voice rose. "You're asking me to gamble my daughter's life on your inheritance?"
"I'm asking you to trust me."
"Like I trusted you six years ago?" The words were bitter. "How did that work out?"
Dante stepped between us. "My offer is simpler, Isabella. And more honest. I'll pay for Sofia's surgery tonight. Right now. No waiting for inheritances or FBI investigations to clear. The money will be in the hospital's account within thirty minutes."
"In exchange for what?" I demanded.
"You work for me. Help me find what was stolen. And when we're done..." He paused. "We'll discuss further arrangements."
"Further arrangements?"
His eyes held mine. "I'm a businessman, Isabella. I invest in valuable assets. And you, for some reason, are very valuable. People are interested in you. The Romano family. The Castellano family. Even some federal agents have been asking questions." He tilted his head. "Why is that?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't you?" He pulled out his phone and showed me a picture. "This was taken five years ago. The night of the fire. Do you recognize the woman in this photo?"
I looked at the screen. My blood froze.
It was me. Standing in the VIP section of The Diamond nightclub. But I wasn't alone.
I was talking to a man I'd completely forgotten about. A man who'd given me something that night.
A small black box.
"Where is it, Isabella?" Dante asked softly. "Where is the box?"
"I... I don't remember. The fire happened and everything was chaos and—"
"Think harder." His voice was still soft, but there was steel underneath. "That box contained information worth twenty million dollars. Names. Accounts. Secrets that could destroy powerful families. Including the Romanos."
Alexander grabbed my arm. "Don't tell him anything."
"Stay out of this, Romano. This is between me and the lady."
"She's not your lady. She's mine."
"Is she?" Dante looked at me. "Who do you choose, Isabella? The man who abandoned you and might not even have the money to save your daughter? Or me, who can guarantee Sofia's safety and future?"
They both stared at me. Waiting. Two dangerous men who wanted to own me for different reasons.
Behind them, through Sofia's door, I could hear machines beeping faster. Hear the medical team shouting orders.
My baby was dying.
I had to choose.
"I choose—" I started.
Gunshots exploded through the hallway.
Everyone dropped to the floor. Glass shattered. People screamed.
Through the chaos, I saw them—men in masks, carrying guns, storming onto the floor.
And the one in front was headed straight for Sofia's room.
"No!" I screamed and ran toward my daughter.
A hand grabbed me and pulled me back. Alexander threw me behind him as the men opened fire.
Dante's guards returned fire. The hallway became a war zone.
And in the middle of it all, someone kicked open Sofia's door.
"She's in here!" a masked man shouted. "The target is the kid! Grab her!"
They were after Sofia.
My five-year-old daughter who could barely breathe on her own.
Someone wanted to take her.
Or kill her.
And I still didn't know who to trust—the father who'd left her, or the criminal who wanted to use me.