Antonio sat in his study long after the rest of the mansion had gone quiet. The room was in silence, broken only by the rhythmic ticking of the antique clock above the fireplace, and the slow crackle of burning wood. In his hand, Antonio held a half-filled glass of whiskey, the amber liquid catching the light every time the fire flickered. His reflection in the glass looked almost foreign—hardened and hollow, like a man carrying ghosts. He hadn’t slept properly in days. Every time he closed his eyes, his mother’s face appeared before him—gentle, kind, and yet broken.He could still remember the call. The trembling voice on the other end. His mother’s death had been more than a loss—it had been a message. Someone had wanted to hurt him, and they’d succeeded.That alone made Antonio’s blood run cold. There were people without conscience and boundaries. They were the ones responsible for the fire that took her life and they had vanished without a trace.Blackthorn definitely had a

The moment Antonio and Cynthia stepped into the house, a wave of heat and tension hit them like a storm. The air was thick with confusion, murmurs, and the smell of burning incense. From the threshold, Antonio could already sense something was terribly wrong.All around the large living room were people — neighbors, relatives, and strangers — some standing, others kneeling, their faces drawn with worry and fear. The low hum of whispered prayers mixed with occasional cries made the place feel almost haunted.Right at the center of it all was a bed, surrounded by anxious faces. Antonio could barely see what lay on it, but whatever it was had captured the full attention of everyone in the room.Cynthia froze beside him, clutching her bag so tightly her knuckles turned white. “That’s my mother’s bed,” she whispered, her voice trembling.Antonio’s brow furrowed. “Then let’s see what’s happening.”He led her through the small crowd, careful not to bump into the people kneeling on the f

Elias’s sharp laugh cut him off. “Medicine?” he repeated, his voice thick with disbelief. His gray brows furrowed, and the faint tremor in his jaw betrayed the fury he was holding back. “Are you a doctor now?” His eyes glinted coldly under the dim lamp. “Did anyone here ask for your help?”The words stung like a slap, but Antonio didn’t flinch. He straightened his shoulders, forcing his voice to remain calm, though his pulse hammered in his throat. “No one asked,” he admitted quietly, “but standing here doing nothing won’t change anything. Look at her—your wife is suffering. If we don’t act now—”“Act?” Elias hissed, stepping closer, the floorboards creaking beneath his boots. “You talk as if you understand what’s happening here. You think you can just walk into my home, look at my wife, and fix her like some broken machine?”The venom in his tone filled the room like smoke.Cynthia flinched at her father’s harshness, the tears clinging to her lashes catching the flicker of the

“…You should leave before you embarrass yourself any further.”Cynthia flinched at her father’s tone, the sharpness of his words slicing through the heavy air. Her heart ached as she looked from him to Antonio, caught between loyalty and desperation. She took a hesitant step forward, her voice trembling though she tried to sound composed.“Dad, please!” she pleaded softly. “Antonio is only trying to help. At least give him a chance. Mom—”“Enough!” Elias snapped, his voice booming across the room like thunder. His anger turned sharply toward her, eyes blazing. “You don’t understand anything, Cynthia. This is my wife. My family. I’ll not let some stranger with no medical degree touch her.”The words landed like blows. The relatives in the room exchanged uneasy glances, none daring to intervene. The air felt thick, suffocating.Antonio’s lips pressed into a thin line. He could feel the tension coiling around the room like a tightening rope ready to snap. Every muscle in his body urged h

Cynthia’s hands trembled as she walked through the cold, antiseptic-scented corridor toward the ward where Mathilda lay. Each step echoed faintly against the tiled floor, a sharp reminder of the sterile environment that surrounded her. Her thoughts were tangled, bouncing between relief and fear. Just moments ago, she had believed that Antonio had been able to stabilize Mathilda’s condition — that his presence and his expertise would ensure the girl’s health to hold. And yet, Matilda's image left her heart pounding like a drum in her chest with each beat resonating with dread.The fluorescent lights overhead cast a harsh glare on the walls, their stark brightness amplifying the tension that seemed to cling to the air. Cynthia swallowed hard, forcing herself to take steadying breaths, though they came ragged and uneven. Her mind refused to settle, cycling through the events of the past hours: the sudden deterioration, the frantic calls to the hospital, and Antonio’s calm assurance