Unfortunately, going ho turned out to be a terrible decision. Just as Ronan had predicted, Alia spotted hordes of paparazzi camped outside her father’s apartnt. The crowd was visible even a distance away. As they didn’t live in a gated area, there was no barrier save for the front door and a few flights of stairs stopping them from charging in and entering her house.
Alia saw her father lean out the open window, brandishing a broom.
"Scram before I call the police!" He yelled at them, enraged. His face was a ruddy red, and he looked ready to explode.
However, the paparazzi did not abate― far from it, they intensified with his actions. They began to yell questions at him. Cara flashes went off in rapid unison as they snapped photos of him screaming, his mouth stretched in an angry, unflattering yowl as he demanded that they vacate the premises.
"Mr. Kentwood, are you aware of the rumors surrounding your daughter?"
"Where is Alia, Mr. Kentwood? We wish to speak to her!"
"Mr. Kentwood, there are rumors that your daughter was involved with Caleb Walton. What is the truth?"
"Is there another entrance to your ho?" Matteo asked, from the safety of his car.
Alia shook her head, worried.
"Then we cannot enter your ho," Matteo said with grim finality. "They’ll mob us the mont we appear."
Alia bit her lip and stared at her poor father, who was still doing his best to shoo away the reporters. She would have to call him instead. But just as she was going to dial his number, her eyes were greeted with a horrifying sight.
Her father had dropped the broom, and he was clutching his chest, wheezing painfully. Then his body seed to collapse, for he vanished from the window’s view.
"Dad!" Alia scread in shock. She imdiately opened the door and darted out of the car, uncaring of the dia vultures waiting to get their hands on her. She had to get inside her house too― who knows what happened to her father?
Matteo tried to grab her to stop her from leaving, but his fingers only t air. He cursed under his breath and speed-dialed for an ambulance, before running after Alia, who had already attracted the attention of the ravenous paparazzi. They began swarming her like locusts.
"There she is! Alia Kentwood, what do you have to say?"
"Are you sleeping with Matteo Montgory?"
"Are you married to Caleb Walton?"
"Excuse , make way! I need to check on my father! Please!" Alia scread, using her limbs to push her way through, with limited success. The bright flashes were blinding her eyes, disorienting her, and the hot press of bodies was causing her to panic. She couldn’t breathe!
Suddenly, there was a familiar warm hand grabbing her own, steadying her. She looked up; only to see Matteo’s broad back in front of her as he tugged her through the crowd, cutting through the waves of people like they ceased to matter.
"Get out of the way," Matteo’s deep, authoritative voice resounded.
He didn’t need to raise his voice, but sohow, everyone heard the implied threat in his tone. The cara flashes did not stop, but the paparazzi warily stepped back slightly, for fear of getting destroyed by one of the most powerful n in the city.
"Mr. Montgory, does this an that the rumors are true?"
"Is Alia Kentwood your mistress?"
"Did you hire her because you slept with her?"
However, Matteo paid all of them no mind, he rely guided Alia to the door of her father’s house, where she shakily opened it and ran inside. Matteo shut the door after her, as Alia’s cries of panic echoed throughout the room.
"Dad! Dad! Can you hear ? Dad!" Alia scread. On the floor lay her loving father, who was panting weakly on the floor, as though he couldn’t get enough air. His face was as pale as paper, yet there were beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
"Mi... Millie..." Her father groaned, his voice softer than the wind. He gazed up at her blearily. "I... I’m... so sorry..."
"No, Dad, why are you sorry? This is all my fault!" Alia cried, cradling her father’s face in her hands. "Dad, dad, stay with , you’re all that I have! No, don’t close your eyes!"
"I’ve already called for an ambulance. I think he’s having a heart attack," Matteo said grimly. "Let help."
Alia could only watch in shock as Matteo Montgory went on his knees and began to conduct chest compressions on her father, even putting his own mouth over her father’s lips to breathe air into his lungs. Alia clutched her father’s hand tightly, willing him to live.
Thankfully, the sound of ambulance sirens filled the air soon after, and the paradics took her father away. The paparazzi wanted to block the roads, but a quick glance at Matteo’s furious expression made them backtrack.
They arrived at the hospital, and Alia was stunned to see her father being ushered into the VVIP ward.
"The city’s top cardiologist is here to treat your father. He is in good hands, so you can rest easy for now," Matteo said, guiding her to one of the waiting rooms.
It was fancier than any place she had spent ti in, but Alia could not enjoy it at all. Her stomach was twisted in knots from what had just occurred.
"I can’t," Alia said miserably. Her hands were still shaking, and she felt the urge to vomit. "I can’t lose him, Matteo. I just can’t."
"I know. And you will not lose him," Matteo said calmly, holding onto her trembling hands. "I will make sure of it."
Alia could only nod, and they began the slow uneasy wait for news.
A ringtone cut through the gloom. Matteo looked at the caller ID and frowned. Misfortunes truly did not co singly.
"Why did you call?" Matteo asked, without any preamble. The woman on the other end of the call gave a low, an laugh.
"Why Matteo, not even a single hello. Is that how you should speak to your mother?"
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