Zamiel stared intensely at the dical reports spread across the desk before him.
The harsh white light from the overhead lamp reflected off the crisp sheets, highlighting the rows of unfamiliar dical terms that twisted together like a riddle he couldn’t untangle. His brows furrowed deeply, his fingers hovering above the papers but not touching them as though physical contact might make the confusion sink deeper.
He read the lines again. And again. Each word made less sense than the last. This couldn’t be right. The terminology, the results, the tilines.. it all defied logic. His mind raced, trying to connect the impossible conclusions staring back at him.
A faint sound escaped him a breath caught halfway between disbelief and dread. He leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair, his pulse steady yet heavy. How could this even happen? The question echoed in his mind, sharp and insistent.
He glanced at the physician’s signature at the bottom of the page, then back at the reports. Every number, every note seed to challenge the boundaries of what he thought was dically possible. For a long mont, Zamiel just sat there, lost in a maze of thoughts, the quiet hum of the room amplifying the chaos in his mind.
This wasn’t the first report. He had already requested two more confirmations from different laboratories, yet the results all pointed to the sa unsettling truth.
"Doctor Zamiel!"
The sound of hurried footsteps echoed from the other side of the corridor wall. A nurse ca running, her voice trembling with panic.
"Doctor Zamiel!"
He finally looked up, his eyes distant a dark pool of confusion, disbelief, and a creeping fear of what those papers might reveal. He blinked at the panting figure of the nurse he had assigned to one of his most delicate patients.
"She... patient 233.."
He didn’t wait for her to finish. His heart dropped, and before she could explain, he was already sprinting down the hall toward the patient’s room.
A cold dread gripped him. He had brought that particular patient to a
private ho clinic precisely to prevent ergencies like this. But who would have thought the one ergency he feared most would actually co to life?
The mont he pushed the door open, a shrill chorus of alarms filled the room. The machines scread for attention, lights flashing red and amber, while his patient struggled desperately to breathe, chest rising and falling in violent, irregular spasms.
Zamiel rushed to the monitors, his hands moving swiftly yet with surgical precision. His gaze darted from one vital sign to another..
"Get 2 milliliters of epinephrine and 5 of diazepam, stat!" he barked.
The nurse scrambled to obey, her trembling hands barely managing to draw the injections. Zamiel took them from her, steady and practiced, administering the shots with a deftness that spoke of years of experience.
Monts later, the patient’s breathing began to ease. The alarms dulled to a steady hum, and the once-chaotic room fell into fragile silence.
Zamiel exhaled deeply, running a tired hand through his hair. "You’re going to be the end of ," he muttered under his breath, slumping into the chair beside the bed.
Only then did he notice the tall figure leaning casually against the doorway. He waved the nurse away without looking up.
Camillo stepped forward, his expression unreadable. "How is she doing?"
Zamiel shot him a sharp glance. "If only you’d listened to ," he said, voice laced with restrained anger. "I told you to let perform plastic surgery on her face, alter her features then at least we could have had a wider team watching over her without raising suspicion."
Camillo didn’t respond. He just stared, his silence infuriating.
"Sotis I wonder if you’re actually insane," Zamiel continued, rising from his seat. "Tell , why did you make save Ella, only to push her into Carla’s place? You manipulated those old fools into sending the clip, compelled her to go to that location, and made Ella stab her. Then when Carla falls off the cliff you open fire on Ella. And let’s not forget the lie about your second daughter having cancer. How exactly do you plan to prove that?"
Camillo raised an eyebrow, his tone calm but dangerous. "aning?"
"She’s pregnant," Zamiel said quietly, almost as if he didn’t believe the words himself. "And with the story you’ve cooked up, it’s impossible for soone with her dical history to conceive at the mont "
The room fell into a heavy, deathly silence.
Camillo’s expression once calm and composed slowly shifted. His brows furrowed first, disbelief flickering across his face. Then ca confusion, followed by sothing softer and unexpected joy. The corners of his lips trembled into a faint smile as his eyes widened with sudden realization.
"You an," he said, his voice breaking into an incredulous laugh, "I’m going to be a grandfather?"
Zamiel t his eyes and shook his head. "No. I ant she’s pregnant for the man you’ve been so determined to keep her away from." He took a sharp breath. "Let’s even forget about the pregnancy how do you plan on explaining to her everything you’ve done when she wakes up? All the lies? The manipulation?" Camillo’s expression hardened. The mont of warmth vanished, replaced by cold authority.
"Leave the explanations to ," he said flatly. Then, narrowing his eyes, he added, "And make sure you save my daughter. Unless..." his gaze darkened "...you’d rather forget about ever becoming the son-in-law of my family."
He gave a faint, ironic smile the kind that didn’t reach his eyes and turned toward the door.
But Zamiel’s next words stopped him mid-step.
"Just removing the devices that were implanted in her doesn’t an she’ll recover," he said, his tone edged with quiet frustration. "I’ve treated her before. I’ve seen how fast she responds when Nix is around. But now, she’s refusing every form of dication like she’s lost the will to live entirely. The only thing I can suggest at this point is bringing her back to Ni.."
"Don’t try to play gas with , young man," Camillo cut in sharply. His tone, once composed, now carried the weight of warning and fury. "I don’t hate the boy. In fact, I admit he could give Carla the kind of life she deserves. But Carla is dead."
He stepped closer, his words deliberate and ice-cold. "The person lying on that bed is Elisa. The sooner you start calling her by that na, the sooner this new reality will sink into your brain."
He gave a dry scoff and finally left, his footsteps echoing down the hall.
Zamiel remained still for a long mont, then let out a breath that trembled with exhaustion and anger. He raked a hand through his hair and sank into the chair beside the bed. His chest tightened a weight pressing down that no amount of logic or science could lift.
"I’ve beco the villain," he whispered bitterly, "in the love story of two of my closest friends."
He buried his face in his hands, guilt gnawing at him. He had sworn to save lives, but here he was forging dical reports, faking deaths, and breaking hearts. First the false diagnosis he’d given Carla, and now a staged death that had nearly destroyed Nix.
His eyes flicked to the unconscious woman on the bed pale, fragile, yet still breathing
"Carla," he murmured, leaning closer. "I know you’ve lost the will to fight, but please... please hold on. If not for anyone else, then for your child. For Nix’s child."
A soft voice broke through the silence behind him.
"Babe?"
Zamiel turned, startled. His fiancée stood at the door, holding a steaming mug of tea. Her eyes were filled with quiet concern, her expression saying everything words couldn’t.
For a mont, he simply looked at her, at the woman waiting for him while his own life was tangled in a web of deceit and guilt. His love story had been put on pause, while he unwillingly played the villain in soone else’s.
"How is she doing?" Sai asked softly, handing him a mug of black coffee.
Zamiel didn’t take a sip. Instead, he set the cup aside and took her hand in his, his fingers cold against her warm skin.
"Let’s elope," he said quietly.
Sai blinked, half expecting him to laugh. But when she looked into his eyes, she saw no trace of humor there only weariness, desperation, and a haunting sincerity that made her chest tighten.
She stepped closer, guiding his head gently until it rested against her stomach. His arms wrapped around her waist, clinging to her like she was the only safe place left in the chaos surrounding them.
"We’re finally at the last heat of the battle," she said, brushing her fingers through his hair. "Why should we run away now?"
Zamiel let out a faint, humorless laugh. "If we don’t, do you think your crazy uncle will ever let us live in peace? Sotis I try to convince myself he hasn’t lost a screw or two since his clash with that deranged scientist but if he hasn’t, then tell , why would any father put his own daughter through this much pain?"
Sai smiled faintly, though her eyes were clouded with thought. "Actually... my uncle isn’t a bad person," she said. "I always knew he had a daughter sowhere, but I never knew it was Carla. I believe every step of his plan no matter how twisted, is his way of trying to give her the happiness she never had. He just doesn’t realize he’s going about it the wrong way."
Her voice softened as she stroked his hair. "Every daughter of the Sorrento family grows up pampered and adored. From childhood to womanhood, she’s handed everything on a silver platter, even after marriage. Carla... She’s different. She fell in love with a complicated life, and Uncle can’t understand that, and so he’s trying to rewrite her story to fit his version of happiness."
She lifted his face gently and pressed a tender kiss to his lips, smiling as she whispered, "I overheard your conversation with him. And I agree, she needs Nix by her side. It’s been three months since the incident, and she still hasn’t woken up. Explaining that to him would be useless; you and I can’t change his mind. But I know soone who can." A knowing smile curved her lips.
"Who?" Zamiel asked, searching her eyes.
"Liam.. her brother."
"Liam?" he repeated, frowning slightly.
Sai nodded. "I already inford him of her arrival, but he’s been delayed by so work overseas. He promised to return this week. Once he’s here, we’ll let him handle the emotional part. You work on convincing Nix that the woman he’ll et is Elisa not Carla. Leave the reunion to Liam and ."
Zamiel stared at her, processing the plan. "And what then?"
"If Carla decides to return to Nix when she regains consciousness," she said, "then we can finally explain everything, the truth, the lies, and the reasons behind it all."
Zamiel leaned back slightly, still holding her hand. "Wait," he said, his tone laced with a tired chuckle. "Give a second. Is plotting so natural to the Sorrentos? Because at this point, I can’t tell if I’m in love with you or terrified of your family."
Sai laughed softly, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Maybe both."
He raised an eyebrow. "And what makes you so sure Liam won’t side with his father?"
Sai’s smile faded just enough to reveal a flicker of doubt. "Because Liam loves his sister more than he fears his father," she said quietly. "And that’s what makes him dangerous and our only hope... Because of his love for his sister," Sai said with a soft laugh that only deepened Zamiel’s confusion.
"Babe, they’re twins," she added, amusent fading into sothing quieter, almost lancholic. "And who else can understand the pain of one twin better than the other, the one who’s felt the sa kind of heartbreak, the sa betrayal?"
Zamiel’s brows furrowed. "Don’t tell Camillo also separated him from his lover?"
Sai chuckled again, but this ti the sound carried a strange heaviness, the kind that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She brushed her fingers over his cheek and whispered,
"Welco to the Sorrento family conflict, babe where every child learns that love is the one thing their father will never let them keep."
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