In the VVIP ward of the hospital, a tall figure stands beside the bed, staring down at the unconscious patient.
It isn't the fact that the patient is sick. Nor that it is Christopher Blackheart, the biggest billionaire and drug lord New York has ever known.
No.
What makes the moment terrifying is the man standing beside him. The only person bold enough to look at Christopher Blackheart lying helpless without even a flicker of remorse.
Antonio Blackheart.
The richest billionaire bachelor in New York. The illegitimate son of Christopher Blackheart. The Don of the most powerful mafia conglomerate in the city. His name alone spreads fear across the state, and no one dares cross him unless they are ready to lose everything they love.
Antonio glances at his wristwatch, then back at his father indifferently. He had known this day would come. The great Christopher Blackheart is battling death from a hospital bed now.
But this isn't from age or sickness. Antonio knows exactly why his father is here.
"Sir?" a nervous voice cuts into his thoughts.
The hurried footsteps of a doctor echo down the hallway. Dr. Sam enters, looking pale as his eyes land on the man standing by the bed.
"I… I wasn't informed that you'd be coming," the doctor stammers, struggling to hide the fear in his tone.
Antonio doesn't answer. He doesn't have to. The tension alone crushes the air out of the room. One of Antonio's guards lingers near the doorway, arms folded, face unreadable. He had dragged the doctor out of his office earlier without a word, humiliating him in front of his colleagues.
But embarrassment is better than losing his job. Or his life. The doctor knew the risk when he signed up to care for Christopher Blackheart.
Antonio raises his hand slightly and the guard steps back to his post.
"How is he?" Antonio asks finally, his gaze still fixed on his father.
It has been six months since he last saw him.
The "accident" was covered up well. The story spread that Christopher had decided to take a break from work, enjoying his retirement in peace. To make it believable, Antonio even sent his stepmother and sisters out of the country.
But Antonio knows the truth. And he is still furious about it. Their father-son relationship had always been broken—two men with the same blood but never the same heart. Despite being his only heir, Christopher never truly looked at him as a son.
Still, no one outside this hospital knows Christopher is here. And Dr. Sam had done an excellent job keeping it that way.
That was the only reason the man was still breathing.
"H-he's… er…" Dr. Sam falters, his words tripping over themselves.
Antonio doesn't turn. He doesn't need to. His presence alone makes the doctor's knees tremble.
Then the sound of a shriek fills the room when cold steel presses against the doctor's temple.
"Doctor," Antonio says softly, his tone sweet but carrying death inside it. "I have nothing against you."
He pauses deliberately.
"Yet."
Lowering the gun, Antonio's lips twist into a smile. A cruel grin that deepens the scar above his right cheek. His hand clamps down on the doctor's shoulder, gripping it like a vice.
"My men have been saying good things about you. I'd hate for that to change."
"O-of course, sir," Dr. Sam stammers, his teeth nearly chattering. "Everything is fine with your father—"
"THEN WHY HASN'T HE WOKEN UP?!" Antonio's roar shakes the walls.
The doctor flinches violently. "It's… it's his condition, sir. I'm sorry. I'll do better."
He can't say it. The truth. That it is up to Christopher to wake up.
In reality, the Chairman had suffered a devastating blow to the head. He was lucky not to be brain-dead. But based on Antonio's behavior, the doctor can't shake the whisper running through the hospital halls:
Antonio might have been the one behind the so-called accident.
After all, what kind of son doesn't visit his father for six months?
Only Antonio Blackheart.
Just like his name, his heart is pitch black.
Antonio exhales heavily, shoving the doctor aside like garbage. His eyes return to the frail figure on the bed.
"Make sure no one knows he's here," Antonio says, his voice dropping low, like poison. "You've done well so far. I'd hate for your reward to be death."
"Y-yes, sir."
With a flick of his hand, Antonio dismisses him.
He steps closer to the bed, eyes settling on the oxygen mask covering his father's mouth. His hand twitches, a cruel thought whispering into his mind.
Kill him!
He took her from you!
Antonio grits his teeth, his jaw flexing as anger burns in his chest.
She's out there. Gone. Because of him.
"Do it, Antonio," the voices whisper.
His hand moves slightly, hovering near the mask. For a terrifying moment, he truly considers it. His pulse races, his breath turns sharp. But then—he freezes.
His eyes flick away. His hand falls. He slumps back into the chair beside the bed.
He can't do it. Not yet.
Besides, Christopher is suffering already. That has to mean something.
And more importantly, Christopher is one of the few people alive who knows where she is. Until Antonio finds her, the bastard must live.
Unfortunately.
"I'm such a good son, right?" Antonio mutters bitterly, knowing his father can hear him somewhere in that deep coma. "So wake up and tell me where she is… if you still love your wife."
The smile slips off his face, replaced by a look of raw frustration.
With a growl, Antonio pushes the chair back and storms toward the door. It has been a year. A whole damn year without her, and he is already losing his mind.
He never should have come here.
The moment his hand touches the door, it bursts open. His second-in-command storms in, his face tense.
"Jake?" Antonio freezes. He hadn't expected him. He'd sent Jake out of the country, sent him to find her. If Jake is back, that means—
He has news.
Jake walks straight up to him, his expression unreadable.
"I found her," he says.
Time stops. Antonio's breath catches, his chest tightening like a fist squeezing his heart. Found her. Finally.
But there is something in Jake's eyes. Something wrong.
"What is it?" Antonio's voice is sharp. "Where is Arianna?"
Jake hesitates. He looks like he's choking on the words.
Antonio's patience snaps. In one smooth motion, his gun is out, the safety flipped off, the barrel pressed to Jake's forehead.
"WHERE IS SHE?!"
Jake swallows hard, his throat bobbing. "Boss… she's—"
Antonio's pulse roars in his ears, his entire body vibrating with rage.
"She's married."
The words hit harder than a bullet.
"What?!" Antonio's voice breaks into the room like thunder, echoing off the sterile hospital walls.
The silence that follows is worse than death.