Marco Romano knelt outside the Morrison family's grand living room, his knees pressed against the cold marble floor. The opulent chandelier above cast shadows that seemed to mock his desperate state."Please, Mrs. Morrison," Marco pleaded, his voice cracking. "My mother needs this surgery. It's fifty thousand dollars—I'll pay it back, every penny."Margaret Morrison, Elena's mother, looked down at him with disgust, her perfectly manicured fingers gripping her wine glass. "Fifty thousand? For that dying cockroach you call a mother?""She raised me alone after my father died. She's all I have left—""Shut up!" Margaret's voice boomed through the mansion. "You pathetic worm, crawling here like the garbage you are. Do you think we're a charity?"Elena's brother, David, lounged on the leather sofa, smirking. "Look at him, Mother. He's like a beaten dog begging for scraps. Maybe we should throw him a bone.""The only bone he deserves is in a graveyard," Margaret sneered. "Your worthless mot

In the quiet sanctuary of Wilson Pharmacy's private treatment room, Marco sat beside Rosa's bedside, watching her breathing slowly stabilize. Dr. Vincent Castellano stood nearby, still mesmerized by the miraculous recovery he had witnessed."Young man," Vincent said with deep reverence, "what you've accomplished here defies everything I've learned in forty years of medicine. I'm honored to witness such legendary techniques."Marco looked up from his mother's peaceful face. "Dr. Castellano, I need to prepare some healing herbs for her complete recovery. But I must be honest—I don't have the money to pay for them.""Money?" Vincent waved his hand dismissively. "After what you've shown me today, consider any herbs you need a gift. What do you require?"Marco pulled out a piece of paper and began writing with swift, precise strokes. "Ginseng root, aged at least fifty years. Dragon bone powder. Celestial lily petals. Blood coral extract. Phoenix mushroom spores..."Vincent's eyes widened a

Marco drove through the narrow streets of Millbrook District, the Bentley's powerful engine purring softly as he navigated toward the Morrison family's cramped apartment building. The contrast between the luxury vehicle and the rundown neighborhood was stark—peeling paint, broken streetlights, and garbage scattered along the sidewalks told the story of a family that had fallen far from grace.The Morrison family had once been among the most respected in the city, but their fortunes had crumbled over the years. When Elena's grandfather fell ill, her uncle Thomas had convinced Patrick Morrison that marrying off Elena would "ward off the family's bad luck." Elena, known as Millbrook District's most beautiful woman, had shocked everyone by choosing Marco—a quiet, ordinary man she assumed would remain obedient and invisible.After their marriage, the grandfather recovered, but Thomas used Elena's "disgraceful" marriage as justification to strip Patrick of his inheritance, leaving the famil

As the Bentley pulled up to their rundown apartment building, Marco could hear Margaret's urgent whispers from the passenger seat. She was leaning toward Elena, her voice filled with scheming excitement."Elena, darling, you must understand what an incredible opportunity Frankie represents," Margaret said, her eyes gleaming with greed. "He's young, handsome, wealthy beyond measure—everything a woman could want in a husband!"Elena remained silent, staring out the window as Marco parked the car."Think about it," Margaret continued. "His family owns half the city's real estate! His connections could restore our family's status overnight!""Mother, please," Elena said wearily. "I'm exhausted.""Exhausted from what? From pretending to be married to that worthless cockroach?" Margaret gestured dismissively toward Marco. "You could have everything, Elena! Wealth, status, respect—all the things that pathetic maggot has stolen from you!"Marco pretended to focus on turning off the engine, bu

The bedroom was a shrine of desperate hope—flowers filled every corner, medical equipment hummed softly, and the scent of expensive perfumes couldn't quite mask the sterile smell of prolonged illness. Isabella Benedetto lay motionless on the king-sized bed, her once-vibrant beauty now fragile as porcelain after two years in a coma.Marco approached the bedside while Sal, Vincent, Anthony, and Lorenzo watched intently. Isabella's breathing was shallow, her skin pale as moonlight, but even unconscious, her features held an ethereal grace."Beautiful girl," Marco said softly, then turned to Lorenzo with calculating eyes. "Dr. DiMarco, I'm curious—how much has Mr. Benedetto paid you for treating his daughter over these two years?"Lorenzo's chest puffed with indignation. "I refuse to discuss financial matters with a pathetic worm like you!""Answer him," Sal commanded, his voice carrying dangerous undertones.Lorenzo straightened his expensive suit. "If you must know, I've received nothin