Rosa quickly took a taxi and headed straight to the city hospital, where her childhood friend Lucy was waiting for her.

“How did it go?” Lucy asked.

“It’s done,” Rosa replied in a hushed voice, her heart still pounding with apprehension. She could hardly believe it was finally over—it felt like walking into a lion’s den and somehow making it out alive.

Lucy’s face softened with relief.

“How’s Renzo doing?” Rosa asked, already hurrying toward the children’s ward.

“He’s okay. Slept through the night,” Lucy replied.

“Hmm,” Rosa murmured as she gently pushed open the door. There he was—her four-year-old son, Renzo—chatting with the nurse, who was trying to coax him into taking his medicine.

“Hey, sweetie,” Rosa smiled, though her heart ached every time she saw her little boy in that hospital room.

“Mommy! You came!” he squealed with happiness, and Rosa hurried to scoop her son into her arms. Her racing heart finally settled, soothed by the embrace of the only reason she kept going—her son, her Renzo.

Five years ago, when Luciano divorced her and forced her to leave the country, not even her own family stood by her. She had no money, no place to go. She hadn’t even been able to finish her education. Married at eighteen, she had to drop out during her final semester because her mother-in-law insisted she handle all the house chores. So she couldn't get a proper job. But somehow, she survived

Just a month after the divorce, when she found out she was pregnant, her entire world shifted. No matter how angry she was with her ex-husband, and no matter how strongly she had vowed never to speak to him again, she still tried to contact Luciano — only for the sake of her child.

She didn’t want her baby to grow up in such harsh conditions just because his father hated his mother.

But Luciano never answered her calls.

She then tried to contact her family — the only ones she had left: her uncles and aunts. Her parents had died in her childhood, and her grandfather was gone too.

But they spoke to her coldly and told her they wanted no relationship with her anymore. She had died for them the day Luciano loathed her and divorced her. No one wanted to end up on Luciano Mancini’s hate list because of her. 

At that time, she felt completely heartbroken and alone in this ruthless world, with no clue how to survive.  And with this little life growing inside her, she was even more terrified—for his future, and her own.

After Renzo was born, Rosa’s life changed completely. Driven by the determination to give him a better future, she worked tirelessly, building a life for herself and her son. They were happy. She was no longer alone—her sunshine, her Renzo, was with her. And for Rosa, that was more than enough.

Until one day, he fainted.

Then came the diagnosis: leukemia.

And just like that, Rosa’s world shattered all over again.

She had never been so scared in her life—not even when everyone had abandoned her, not even when she found out she was pregnant and completely on her own. But now, this fear was killing her. She couldn’t let anything happen to her son. He didn’t deserve to suffer because of her bad luck.

So she went to every doctor and discussed every possible treatment. A flicker of hope lit up her dark world when one of them mentioned that the best chance for Renzo’s recovery was a stem cell transplant. Cord blood from a newborn sibling could potentially save his life. But for that… she would need to have another child—with his father.

If she had been her old self—young, naive Rosa—she would’ve never dared to even think about it. But now—now she was a desperate mother. And a mother could fight even God if it meant saving her child’s life. Compared to that, surviving a night with that monster was something she could endure.

She returned to the city without anyone knowing and planned everything carefully, keeping an eye on her ex-husband and his schedule. Lucy was the only one she could trust in the city, and she helped her with all the resources she had. Yesterday, as she was ovulating, Rosa took the risk—it didn’t matter if it cost her life. When he asked for morning sex, she took it as a sign that luck was finally on her side. It was even better—more chances meant a higher possibility of conceiving. Once she was sure she was pregnant, she would leave the city forever.

“Mommy, I don’t want to take these yucky tablets anymore,” Renzo complained, his small face scrunching up in protest.

Rosa smiled softly, brushing his hair back.

“Just a few more days, my love, and then you won’t have to take them anymore,” she coaxed him with the sweetest smile—the one she reserved only for him.

Only him—her life, her entire world.

Oh God. She sighed inwardly, fighting back the tears that always seemed to appear without her permission—whenever her heart was overwhelmed by the love she felt for her little boy.

He was everything she had. Everything she needed to survive in this world.

But she couldn’t cry in front of him. Not when he needed her to be strong and do everything in her power to make sure his treatment worked.

She gestured for the nurse to hand her the medicine.

“Now, mommy’s good boy will quickly swallow it, okay?”

“No!” Renzo pouted stubbornly, crossing his arms.

“How about this then?” she said playfully, reaching into her handbag and pulling out a few chocolates. “If you take the medicine, these are all yours.”

His small face lit up, and he opened his mouth. Rosa gently placed the tablet at the back of his tongue and quickly gave him water so he could swallow it without even realizing.

“Good boy,” she whispered, kissing his forehead as she handed him the chocolates.

“Miss, Dr. DeLuca asked to see you once you returned,” the nurse informed her.

Rosa nodded.

“Okay, my little sweetheart, I’m just going to see your doctor. You be good and take a nap, alright?” she instructed gently.

Renzo nodded sleepily. The medicine had a mild sedative effect, and he yawned as he settled under the blanket. Rosa pulled the covers over him and stroked his hair softly a few times until his eyes fluttered shut, and he fell asleep peacefully.

The doctor had mentioned that rest was crucial for his recovery. Without it, he would tire himself out quickly and become agitated—making things more difficult for the hospital staff.

Rosa pressed a light kiss to his forehead before quietly stepping out to see the doctor.

Lucy followed her, and together, they headed to the consultation room. Rosa knocked gently before pushing the door open. Dr. DeLuca was seated behind his desk, his expression grave, eyes fixed on something on his computer screen.

“Rosa, please come in,” he said with a soft smile.

Both women stepped inside.

“Please, have a seat,” the doctor offered, gesturing to the chairs.

Rosa glanced at Lucy, and they exchanged a silent look before sitting down.

“You wanted to see me, Doctor?” Rosa asked hesitantly, her chest tightening with worry. “Is everything fine with Renzo’s report?”

“Oh, yes. He’s stable and responding well to the treatment,” Dr. DeLuca reassured her. But then he paused, his gaze sharpening with curiosity. “Did you speak with his father?”

“Yes… I spoke to him. He’s ready to cooperate,” Rosa lied smoothly. She couldn’t let anyone know about her dark past—especially not about her mafia ex-husband.

“That’s… umm… that’s good,” Dr. DeLuca said, though his voice carried a hint of awkwardness. Lucy noticed it immediately.

“However, you still need to submit the remaining payment soon,” he reminded gently. “I’m sorry, but I can’t stop the administration from demanding the receipt any longer.”

“Of course, Doctor,” Rosa replied softly. “I’ll be making a partial payment today.”

She had some money—what little her ex-husband had given her—and now, she was going to use it for their son’s treatment.

“And really, I should be thanking you,” she added, her voice filled with gratitude. “You’ve helped me buy time and convinced the hospital to allow installments. But rest assured—I’ll pay every cent, even if I have to sell my organs.”

Dr. De Luca's brows pulled together.

"No. I would never let you sell yourself,"  he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. "I've already spoken to a charity organization connected to our hospital. They fund cases where families can't afford treatment. I'm confident they'll approve Renzo's case."

Rosa's eyebrows lifted slightly as her dull gaze began to shimmer with hope. "Thank you..." she whispered, her voice choked with emotion.

"Of course," Dr. De Luca said gently. "It's the least I can do."

He paused, then added with a polite smile, "By the way... are you free tonight?"

"Yes, Doctor?" Rosa replied softly, unsure what he meant.

"Actually... I wanted to discuss Renzo's treatment in more detail," he said, choosing his words carefully. "But I have a surgery scheduled now, and I won't be free until late. I was wondering if... maybe we could talk over dinner? Only if you're comfortable, of course." 

"Of course," Rosa agreed softly. She was already deeply grateful he was helping and personally taking care of her son's treatment. Besides, she also wanted to discuss the next steps-especially if she had to move out of the country again.

"Alright then." Dr. DeLuca's smile widened. "I'll text you the location. How does eight o'clock sound?"

"Fine," Rosa nodded as she got up. "Thank you," she added before walking out, Lucy following behind.

"I think Dr. DeLuca likes you," Lucy teased with a smirk.

"Nonsense. He's Renzo's doctor and just concerned about his patient. Perhaps he wants to discuss something important." Rosa waved off her friend's remark.

"But asking his patient's mother out to dinner?" Lucy smirked. "He could've just discussed it over the phone, you know."

"Maybe he wants to talk face-to-face. The treatment is intense, and we still have to wait nine months-even though I'm pregnant. I need to make sure my Renzo recovers completely," Rosa murmured, her voice drifting off as her mind wandered.

"Rosa," Lucy's voice turned serious, gently bringing her back to the present. "If you're pregnant... you're going to have another baby. That means-"

"More responsibility. I know. And I'm ready for it," Rosa said firmly. But deep down, her heart trembled with anxiety. The treatment, the pregnancy... She didn't even know how she'd manage the payments.

In the evening, Rosa met Dr. DeLuca for dinner. Lucy had insisted she wear something nice rather than those boring clothes and had lent her her hottest outfit: a white crop top and black mini skirt.

After placing their orders, he looked at her seriously and said, "The stem cell transplant is going to be very expensive. You should be prepared."

"I'll do anything to pay for the treatment," Rosa replied desperately. "Can you help me find an organ recipient? I want to sell one of mine."

Dr. DeLuca pressed his lips together, staring at the woman before him with an intensity that made her feel awkward. 

Finally, he exhaled and said firmly, "I won't let you do that, Rosa. And I've already told you that for the treatment-I'm already in talks with one of the largest charity organizations that supports cases like this. I'm confident they'll agree to cover the expenses."

Rosa suddenly looked overwhelmed with emotion. "Thank you so much, Dr. DeLuca. I can't express how much this means to me. I'll be indebted to you for the rest of my life." Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. When she had thought every door was closed, when even her own family had turned away, here he was-willing to help her without any obligation or relation.

"First of all, call me Samuele," he said gently. "And I'm a doctor-it's my duty to ensure my patients get the treatment they need and recover."

"Still... you're like a godsend to me. I can't even thank you enough."

"That's fine, Rosa. Don't overthink it," Dr. DeLuca chuckled softly and covered her hand with his, a quiet gesture of comfort.

But just then, someone grabbed her arm and yanked her out of her chair with such force she gasped in pain.

"Ow-what the hell-?"

"You really don't waste time, do you?"  came a cold, menacing voice.

Rosa's eyes widened in shock as she turned and saw Don Luciano Mancini standing there, fury blazing in his eyes and his jaw clenched tight. "Already moving on to the next man? Is that what this is?"

Luciano’s cold blue eyes narrowed as they locked on the woman laughing softly across the table from another man.

His ex-wife.

His blood boiled.

She looked like sin wrapped in silk—a knee-length black skirt clinging to her hips, a white crop top hugging that fuckable little body, blonde hair tumbling over her shoulders like she walked out of a wet dream. And across from her sat some polished prick in a suit, bold enough to rest his damn hand over hers like she already belonged to him.

Luciano’s fists clenched.

So this is what she’d sunk to? Playing high-class slut in fancy hotels, spreading her legs for any man with a fat wallet?

A bitter taste filled his mouth as memories came flooding back. Five years ago, after that night—the one he couldn’t remember because Rosa had drugged him—he’d woken up naked beside her, blood staining the sheets. Panic had gripped him. And then Laura, Rosa’s cousin and his girlfriend at the time, had told him that Rosa had staged the whole thing, faking her being a virgin and even using blood as part of a trap to tie him down with guilt. Laura had also claimed that Rosa had always been a gold digger, that she’d slept around before, and only wanted to stake a claim to his name—to trap him in their unwanted marriage forever.

The fury that had followed was blinding. He’d felt violated, manipulated, humiliated. No one had ever dared to play him like that. No one made a fool out of him.

 And the Italian Don had decided to make his cunning little wife pay for her filth. He divorced her and sent her away, wanting nothing more than to erase that deceptively innocent face from his life. Back then, he was young and blinded by rage. Over time, a part of him had questioned if he’d been too harsh.

But that guilt vanished after seeing her last night—playing the same damn trick all over again. She hadn’t changed. They said looks could be deceiving, and with her, that saying couldn’t be more true. Now, seeing her whoring herself out for money in luxury hotels, he felt no regret. She deserved every bit of what he did to her.

The fury only intensified when he saw her shamelessly laughing with that man, seducing him with those innocent looks and dangerously alluring beauty.

Such a bitch.

Hadn't she been screaming his name all night? Moaning beneath him like she couldn’t get enough—clawing at his back, begging him not to stop as he buried himself deep in her tight, soaking heat and drove into her again and again?

And now… now she didn’t even wait a goddamn day before crawling back into another man’s lap?

Was she that desperate? For sex? For money? Or both?

Why would he care if she slept with the whole city? He didn’t care for a whore. Would he?

But what enraged him even more was the burning in his chest—the thought of her using the same seductive tricks, those sensual moves she’d used on him last night, now on another man.

Would she moan that bastard’s name the way she screamed his when he was buried deep inside her?

Would that man touch her the same way he did just hours ago, like he owned every inch of her?

The fury boiled over. Before he could think rationally, he was at their table, grabbing her hand and yanking her toward him.

Her soft brown eyes blinked up at him before panic spread across her face.

"Mr. Mancini… w-what are you doing here?"

"Come with me," he said coldly, already grabbing her wrist and dragging her with him.

"Hey, mister! Leave her alone!"

The interrupting voice made Luciano frown. He turned toward the man in the suit, who protested, stepping forward—but was quickly blocked by Luciano’s bodyguards.

"Shut up and stay the fuck away from her," Luciano snapped, not sparing the man another glance as he pulled Rosa along, ignoring her protests.

He didn’t stop until they reached the private room he had reserved for an urgent business meeting—

A meeting that clearly wasn’t happening now.

His mood had been completely ruined because of this woman.

“Mr. Mancini, let me go! Are you out of your mind?” she yelled at him in frustration.

He grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her face close until their breaths collided, hot and uneven.

“You done playing your little games, Rosie?” he hissed, his voice low and laced with venom. “Or do you need a reminder of whose name you were screaming last night?”