Chapter 22The nights at the hospital were always different, but that night felt even heavier to Marco. The new nameplate at Messina Hospital, the new banners, the reopening festivities—all of it had turned his name into a kind of symbol for the townspeople. Posters bearing his image hung on the corridor walls, and the media was still running some of the footage from the interviews conducted earlier in the day.But as the night deepened, the sounds of celebration slowly receded, fading against the fatigue inside. White lights burned in the patients' rooms, and the occasional soft footfall of nurses and the beep-beep of monitors blended into a familiar hospital nocturne.Marco was walking down a corridor on one side of the hospital at that moment. He had a few files tucked into his coat pocket—notes from the last few cases of the day. Although he wanted to focus solely on his work, the pressure from the media and the drama created by Isabella was slowly creeping into his mind. After a

Chapter 24Marco had been feeling a kind of unease ever since he left the meeting that day. Doctor Jake's sudden appearance, the mention of Owl's name, and then Salvatore's immediately suspicious behavior—all of it felt like a heavy fog had settled in his mind. Still, he tried to keep himself calm, because he was no longer just an ordinary doctor but the head of the entire hospital. His every move, every word now carried the weight of news.As he headed toward the parking garage on the lower level of the meeting center, he noticed Salvatore Moretti standing a short distance away by the stairs. People were slowly filing out, the corridor nearly empty. Marco realized he might have to say the thing he'd been avoiding for so long.He walked slowly toward Salvatore.Salvatore was checking something on his phone. When Marco got closer, he looked up, his eyes still cold and calculating.Marco paused for a moment, then lowered his voice, but spoke firmly,"Mr. Moretti, there's something I ne

Chapter 26But from the outside, no one could tell. All that was visible were her trembling lips and piercing, accusatory eyes."Alright," the mother said finally, her voice laced with suppressed anger. "You do you. But remember—if our son suffers even a little more, we won't stay silent."Rita nodded and motioned to the nurse."Hold him gently," she said. "He might be scared, being a baby."The nurse came over and gently held the boy's hand. The boy tried to pull away, but he didn't have much strength. He just watched the injection with narrowed eyes. Rita cleaned his arm, then carefully inserted the needle.As she administered the medicine, she felt a slight tremor in her own hand. The exhaustion, sleepless nights, and constant stress had weakened her, but she didn't want to show it in front of the patient or their family.The injection didn't take long to finish. Rita quickly pulled out the needle and pressed a cotton ball against the site."Did that hurt?" she asked in a soft voic

Chapter 28Marco had received the child's latest report early that morning. His pupils contracted the moment he saw it; the blood tests revealed unmistakable signs that someone had deliberately administered a slow poison to the child.This type of poison is not something the general public would know about. And it was out of the question that it was an accident.The pages of the report in Marco's hand trembled slightly, though his expression remained stern.Outside the ward, journalists stood broadcasting live. The red lights on their cameras flickered. Those who had supported Marco the day before were now even more eager to learn his reaction. Such an incident involving children never escapes the media's attention. And today, the information was absolutely explosive.Marco took a deep breath and approached the child's family. The three of them were standing—the father, the mother, and the uncle. Their eyes held a mixture of terror, frustration, and anger. From their clothes and deme

Chapter 30Standing in front of Marco's office door, Rosa took a deep breath. How many days had she spent hiding her disfigured face—it had been more agonising than death itself. But her anger ran deeper. She resolved to show Marco what real power was. She knocked once and stepped inside.Marco was sitting at his desk, reading some papers. He pushed his glasses up his nose and looked up, his eyes immediately narrowing. He had known Rosa would come, but not in this manner."There was no need to hide your face under that scarf," Marco said in a calm voice. "I know what happened to your face."Rosa said nothing, just started to walk forward. Then she threw the bundle of cash right onto the desk—so hard that several of the bundles scattered onto the floor."Here's your money," Rosa said, her voice trembling with rage. "This is what you want, isn't it? How much will it take? Ten lakh? Twenty lakh? I'll give you whatever you want. But fix my face. You play God for money, so I'm giving you t