Lucas's pov

Hospitals were always cold - sterile, serious and lacking emotion. I preferred them that way. They reminded me of boardrooms: full of calculated breaths, quiet strength and controlled chaos.

I sat in a private waiting lounge, grey suit crisp against the beige room, the cuff of my Rolex catching the harsh fluorescent light. The floor beneath my shoes shone.

Everything was clean. Neat. Perfect.

Just how I liked it.

"Mr. Marano?" A nurse poked her head through."Your mother's vitals are stable. She's resting comfortably and the doctor will attend to you briefly."

I gave a brief nod, barely lifting my gaze.

"Thank you."

When she left, I stood and walked over to the large window looking down at the hospital's courtyard. It was drizzling - soft, persistent and unyielding. The same kind of drizzle that poured the night I signed my first billion dollar acquisition.

There was poetry to this type of weather.

And yet...something else drew my attention to the hallway. A flicker of movement. No. Not movement - emotion.

Raw, unfiltered emotion.

I turned just in time to see a young woman arguing with the nurse at the front desk. Her voice wasn't loud but it vibrated with urgency, like a guitar string pulled to the extreme.

"I said I'll figure something out. I just need a bit more time."

I narrowed my eyes.

The woman - youthful, mid twenties maybe - stood in a pale pink hoodie and worn jeans. Hair in a messy bun, cheeks flushed and eyes rimmed bright red,no doubt from crying. And yet she stood firm. Unyielding.

Like the whole fucking world could collapse all around her and she'd still keep fighting.

She didn't belong in this place.

She belonged in a storm.

She turned away from the front desk, sighing like she was pulling herself together through sheer willpower. Then she saw me and our eyes locked for a mere second.

Just one.

And in that second, I saw it.

The fight.

The kind I'd seen in hopeful entrepreneurs pitching their dreams from crumbled homes. The kind that couldn't be bought or faked.

I watched her strut to a vending machine, digging through her pocket. She took out four crumpled bills. Inserted one. The machine rejected it.

Then another.

I didn't think much before I walked over to her,my footsteps silent on the tiles.

"Allow me..." I said, my voice smooth and detached but low enough to cut through her frustration.

She blinked up at me, startled.

"Oh,uh...."

I slipped my black card from my wallet and tapped it against the reader. The machine beeped, signaling the approval of the transaction.

"I wasn't -," she started.

"I know," I finished, not unkindly but a bit icily. " You were struggling. You still are."

She stared at me, her lips parted slightly.

Then she chuckled under her breath - dry, exhausted. "Guess you saw the whole show then huh?"

I shrugged. "I've seen much worse."

I then took her trembling fingers in mine before I continued. "But hardly anyone standing so tall in the middle of it."

Something flashed in her eyes - curiosity, maybe. Distrust as well. She gently removed her hands from mine before folding them across her chest.

"Forgive me, but you don't look like the type who hangs around ER vending machines."

"I don't," I admitted. "But you do."

She tilted her head "and what's that supposed to mean, sir?".

"It means,"I stated matter of factly, "you're too proud to ask for help, but too loyal to walk away.Your kind of person usually breaks alone."

Silence stretched between us like gum.

Then -

"I'm Lucia," she introduced quietly.

"And I don't break. Well not easily, anyway."

My mouth quirked upward at her cute little introduction,well just a little anyway.

"Lucas Marano." I introduced back.

Her eyes narrowed just for a moment, recognition reflecting in them.

"The Lucas Marano?"

I shrugged again. "Depends on who's asking."

She looked me over again - only this time much slower like she was analyzing me which I oddly didn't mind too much. Then she spoke. "Well,Mr. Marano, thank you. For the vending machine rescue."

I gave a curt nod. "It was the least a gentleman like me could do."

Before she could respond, a nurse called her name down the hall.She gave me one last look - wary, grateful and curious - then scurried away.

I stood there a Moment longer, my expression thoughtful.

Then I turned and stepped out for a bit, letting the rain hit me for a brief second before I took out my phone.

It buzzed just before I dialed.

Matt Richards.

I answered the call with a knowing smile on my face. "You sure take your sweet time to reach out matt."

Matt's familiar laughter broke through.

"You're one to talk,Mr ghost Marano. What? Running empires too big to call your best friend anymore?"

I smirked. "Something along those lines."

"Ass," he snorted before continuing...

"You still at hope general? Heard your mom's tests were today."

"She's stable for now."

"Glad to hear it. Hey - LA next weekend. Still up for it?"

"I'll be there but first I need to sort out things here," I said.

"Hey, you better be there because I need a break from Vegas. Too many pricks trying to buy me out and not enough models trying to marry me."

"Same old Matt, you never change do you?" I snorted.

"You know it." he retorted.

We talked for a few more minutes - about nothing in particular and not once did I mention Lucia. I was fine with keeping her a secret.

To me she was the fierce woman in the hallway who struggled with the vending machine but with strength hidden behind her eyes.

I would always remember her and I would make sure she remembered me as well.

Lucas's pov

The rain ceased when I stepped back into the hospital, but the call with Matt lifted my spirits a bit before a familiar chill attacked and clung to me like the past-unchangeable and bitter.

My shoes clacked against the tiles drawing a few glances from nurses. I didn't take too much notice of them. I moved like a man with purpose.

Lucia.

Her name felt like a memory in my mind. Short. Soft but layered with strength.

She had disappeared down that hallway thirty minutes ago and I remained outside longer than I had hoped. The call from Matt came to mind again but I quickly shoved it aside. My mind was elsewhere.

Not on my mother's diagnosis or business or my empire waiting for me but on Lucia.

The fierce woman who intrigued me, a feat few women managed to achieve.

She reminded me of my sister - Clara.

I hadn't really thought of her in months. Years, maybe. Not really. But something about Lucia - the flames hidden in her icy eyes,the sharp edge of her voice, her natural instinct to protect someone smaller - brought back memories of Clara I had buried beneath towering buildings and business deals.

Clara had been soft but fierce. A gazelle in motion. At thirteen, she had twirled her way into national competitions and won as the youngest in her class. The paparazzi couldn't get enough of her,calling her a ballet prodigy. I just called her gazelle.

Until the day the music stopped playing. A car crash. Instant death.

I hadn't been there to save her.

I couldn't save her.

But maybe, just maybe, I won't be so useless this time.... maybe I could do something finally.

I moved past the hallway where Lucia had passed through and found the billing desk. My voice, low but commanding.

"There was a young woman here. Lucia. Mid twenties. She brought in a younger patient today - Sophia."

The receptionist, a slender woman with worn out eyes blinked slowly. "I - I can't give you information on our patients sir."

"I'm not asking for bullshit information," I said smoothly. "I'm here to settle the medical bills for the girl."

The woman was skeptical. "Even if I had the power to allow that - these things require authorization."

I leaned forward, producing my black card and sliding it across the counter like a secret weapon. The receptionist looked at it with wide eyes before I continued, "you'll find that authorization comes quite quickly when the hospital board is partly funded by Marano group charities,love."

The receptionist looked flustered now.

"Right. Forgive me sir."

I didn't stick around for the process. I moved back into the hallway, my eyes scanning for Lucia.

I found her outside the pediatric ICU.

She stood as her arms were wrapped around her body, her back against the wall, head tilted back like she was communing with a ceiling that had no God.

Her eyes were tightly shut, lashes wet.

She murmured words too quiet to hear.

I didn't disturb her.

I just stood there and watched.

And for a second something squeezed in my chest. She was so tiny next to the huge hospital walls. So loud in her quietness. Everything about her screamed vulnerability - and yet not once did she beg for assistance.

She really reminded me of Clara.

She seemed like someone who still had faith that love alone could hold the world together.

When she finally opened her eyes, she saw me. Her expression darkened.

"You again," she said, cleaning her cheeks. "What,you want round two of the vending machine?".

I couldn't help but offer the smallest of smirks. "Thought, I'd check if you somehow managed to win the snack war."

She exhaled before laughing loudly. "Not quite sir. The war continues till I get my twix."

It was my turn to laugh now, she still managed to be funny which was impressive.

"How's your sister?" I asked, shifting the mood quickly.

Lucia's jaw tensed before she replied. "She's stable for now. But they're refusing to run some of the scans for her. Because I can't afford them."

Her voice cracked just a little.

I didn't let my expression waver as I continued, "What if you could?"

Lucia blinked.Three times."What?"

I shifted forward, my voice even."What if someone already handled it?"

She frowned deeply."What are you talking about?"

"I mean," I said, sliding my hands into my pockets," your baby sister's medical bills have been paid for. In full."

She went deathly still.

"No way." She shook her head defiantly. " I can't accept it. I didn't ask for that. I didn't want that."

"I didn't do it because you asked for it."

"Then why?" she snarled,tears falling now.

"Because you felt pity for me? Is that it?

Am I part of some kind of billionaire charity project now?"

I didn't flinch at her words.

"I did it," I began calmly, "because I lost someone once.someone who danced like the entire world was at her feet.someone who would still be alive if she had been helped sooner."

She stared at me,surprised.

"I don't need rescuing," she murmured softly, but her voice wavered.

"I'm aware," I replied, moving closer.

"That's precisely why I did it. Because you're too proud to ask."

For a long moment, she stayed silent as her eyes examined the floor then she whispered,"Thank you."

I nodded once."You're welcome."

Before she could say more,my phone buzzed. I took a quick look at it.

Matt Richards - again.

"Excuse me, I need to answer this," I said, stepping out.

I answered Matt's second call with practiced calmness."Mr.Matt."

His voice boomed through."Twice in a day - this must be destiny Lucas."

I smirked."or just poor timing."

"Same difference. Just checking in because I'm bored. Thought I'd trouble your ass a little more before your work swallows you whole."

"You're doing a perfect job of troubling me now."

"Well good.Anyway tell your mother I said hi though. And hey - next time we hit LA, let's swing by that poker place you love so much. God knows we need to gamble for real."

"I'd be careful if I were you, you know you always lose right?" I said with amusement in my voice.

"It's still fun regardless."

"So no drama in your life, huh?"

My eyes darted back towards the hallway where Lucia stood a few seconds ago.

"No drama," I said coolly. "Just..a storm on the way."

Matt laughed. " Ain't that the truth. Catch you later Mr. Ghost Marano."

"Later asshole."

I ended the call, pocketed my phone and shifted my gaze towards the hospital where Lucia stood moments ago. I didn't believe in fate or destiny.

But this?

This felt like an opportunity, a second chance in disguise and I would gladly take it.

Lucas's pov

I should have left. I had a chauffeur waiting,a schedule full of billion - dollar choices - but I couldn't leave. Not when I caught a glimpse of her through the window, holding her sister like she was holding the last bits of herself together. Lucia Moretti wasn't just shattered - she was hurting from within, and something about that quiet hurt made it quite hard for me to leave.

After their hug, she stood at her sister's bedside,her fingers dabbing a damp cloth over the child's forehead. Her dark hair was pulled into a messy bun,strands framing her face. I chuckled to myself. She always fails to notice me.

I coughed,loud enough to catch her attention.

She looked startled, like a deer in headlights."Ahh...Mr.Marano again.."

"I was just about to take my leave," I said, nodding towards the exit.

"I just wanted to properly say my goodbyes."

Her face fell, just a little."You have my thanks...for your help. I still don't understand your reasons, but...thank you."

"You don't need to understand," I said.

"Just do your best to make sure she gets better."

Lucia's arms folded around her, her voice a whisper. "She's all I have."

Her words lingered in the air like the smell of antiseptic - sharp and painful.

I moved forward, closer to her. "You make me remember someone. Someone I lost."

"My sister. She used to be a ballerina." I didn't speak more. It simply wasn't the time. "Anyway.. goodbye, Lucia."

She nodded slowly, lips parted like she wanted to speak some more. But there were no words.

I gave her a curt, respectful nod and walked out.

I didn't look back.

But I bet she won't forget me.

The city outside lit up like nothing had happened, but something in me felt different. I undid my ties as my chauffeur drove away from the hospital, the cold leather of the backseat offered little comfort.

"Your destination,Mr.Marano?"

Cassius asked from the driver's seat.

"Marano holdings. And call Adrian. I need all we can find on someone. Lucia Moretti."

Cassius didn't argue. He would never.

Three hours later, I was in my corner office, its intricate windows showing the skyline like a work of art. But I wasn't focused on the view.

Adrian entered, tablet in his grip, his face blank. "You requested a background check on Lucia Moretti."

I motioned for him to speak.

He flipped open a file. " She's twenty five. Formerly a professional ballerina - a global prodigy. Danced in New York, London,and Paris. Headlines from about two and a half years ago. She was arguably one of the best."

I looked up, shocked. "She didn't tell me any of that."

"There's a lot more," Adrian continued.

"She was the wife of Matt Richards."

The name knocked me out of breath.

Matt. My best friend.

I laughed at myself mentally...to think I was hiding Lucia from him, when he knew her very personally.. to put it mildly.

But Adrian didn't notice my reaction as he continued again. "Their divorce was finalized about a year plus ago after a very public scandal. Headlines blamed her for destructive behavior, missed performances and a meltdown on stage. Her career went downhill after that. No charges. No police business. Just silence."

I snatched the tablet from him and scrolled. The pictures were jarring. Lucia mid twirl,her face glowing with happiness and passion. In the next photo, she curtseyed low before the crowd,her eyes shining.

And then the final photo - Lucia outside a courthouse, sunken eyes and ruined makeup. The headline said: "Ballet's Brightest star Burns out in public meltdown."

The article was cruel, heartless.

I gripped the tablet tighter.

"I'm sure she doesn't even know that I know Matt," I sighed.

"She obviously doesn't," Adrian snorted.

"You've always been a shadow,boss."

"Don't speak of this to anyone, not even Cassius."

"Yes,boss."

Adrian left. I stared out at the city once more - but now the view was icy, like glass against my skin.

I really shouldn't care.

But here I am. Caring.

Lucia's softness wasn't a weakness. It was a cry for help buried under silence.

And now I knew she was once a part of the world of grace,stages and beauty - just like Clara.

No wonder the way she carried herself, even after everything,felt regal. She didn't let the world destroy her totally. At least not yet.

I recalled the way she covered Sophia, shielding her like a tigress but she was sinking slowly.

And no one cared.

But I did.

I slipped back into my sofa, clutching a stress ball.

Matt had never mentioned her name before. Not in all the years that we've been friends which means either he'd forgotten her..or he had buried her somewhere deep.

My phone rang but I shoved it aside. I was in no mood to take business calls.

I had a gut feeling that there was more to her fall than what the world knew.

I'd seen Matt twist media narratives before and suddenly, I wasn't sure who the bad guy was in their story but I was going to find out for myself.