Cruel Fate

Brayden Giovanni’s POV

“Be careful with her,” I barked as the nurses rushed forward, carrying the unconscious woman into the hospital. My tone left no room for argument.

Blood was smeared across her face and arms, her clothing torn in places, revealing deep gashes and bruises. Her head lolled to the side as they laid her on the stretcher. I didn’t miss the faint rise and fall of her chest. She was alive, barely.

“Yes, sir,” one of the nurses stammered, visibly shaken by my presence.

“Move faster,” I growled, following close behind as they wheeled her toward the emergency ward.

The hospital’s fluorescent lights flickered above us, casting a harsh glow on the chaos around me. The moment we entered, the staff seemed to freeze, their eyes darting toward me before scurrying to action. My reputation preceded me, even here.

“Get the best doctors available,” I ordered sharply. “I want her stabilized immediately.”

“Yes, Mr. Giovanni,” a nurse said, her voice trembling as she rushed to comply.

Luca trailed behind me, his face pale, still shaken by the accident.

“Luca,” I said without turning around.

“Yes, Don Giovanni?”

“Find out everything about her,” I commanded. “Her name, her family, why she was running into the street. I want answers.”

“Understood, Don Giovanni,” he replied, bowing his head slightly before disappearing into the background.

The doctors swarmed around her like bees, working quickly to stop the bleeding. I watched silently from the stage seating of the OR, my arms crossed, my mind racing.

Minutes felt like hours. Then, finally, one of the doctors approached me, pulling off his bloodstained gloves.

“She’s stable,” he said, his tone respectful. “We’ve moved her to a private room for observation.”

I nodded curtly. “Good. Lead me to her.”

The doctor gestured for me to follow, and I walked briskly through the sterile hallways. The air smelled of antiseptic, sharp and… clinical.

When we reached the room, the woman was lying on the hospital bed, her face pale but peaceful. Bandages covered her arms and forehead, and an IV drip was attached to her hand.

I stood at the foot of the bed, studying her. Who was she? And why did I feel this strange pull toward her?

The door creaked open behind me, and Luca entered, holding a small notepad.

“Don Giovanni,” he began cautiously. “I’ve gathered some information about her.”

“Speak,” I said, not taking my eyes off the woman.

“She’s Penelope Lorenzo,” he said, flipping through his notes. “Twenty-four years old. Recently returned to Los Angeles. From what I could find, she’s been struggling financially. No steady job.”

“And her family?” I asked, my tone sharp.

“Her father is currently admitted in this same hospital,” Luca continued. “It seems he suffered a stroke and a heart attack earlier today.”

Before I could respond, a faint groan came from the bed. My head snapped toward her as her eyes fluttered open, confusion clouding her gaze.

Penelope Lorenzo’s POV

I opened my eyes slowly, blinking against the harsh white light above me. My head throbbed, and my body felt like it had been run over by a truck.

“Where… where am I?” I murmured, my voice hoarse.

“You’re in the hospital,” a deep voice said, startling me.

I turned my head and froze. A tall man dressed in a dark suit stood at the foot of the bed. His face was partially hidden by a mask, but his piercing gray eyes bore into mine.

“Who… who are you?” I stammered, my heart racing.

“Brayden Giovanni,” he said simply.

“Why are you here?” I asked, my voice rising slightly. Panic clawed at my chest.

“You were hit by my car,” he replied, his tone even.

My eyes widened as fragments of memory began to surface. Running. Screaming. The blinding headlights.

“And this hospital…” I whispered, my hands clutching the sheets. “What hospital is this?”

“St. Mary’s,” he said.

The name hit me like a punch to the gut. St. Mary’s. The same hospital where—

“My father!” I cried, sitting up abruptly. Pain shot through my leg, but I didn’t care. “Where is my father?”

The man—Brayden—took a step forward. “You need to lie down. You’re injured.”

“No!” I shouted, throwing the blanket off me. “I need to see him! I need to save him!”

I swung my legs off the bed, wincing as my injured leg protested. The moment my feet hit the ground, I stumbled, limping toward the door.

“Miss Lorenzo, stop,” Brayden called after me, his voice firm.

“I can’t!” I cried, tears streaming down my face. “I need to find him!”

“Where are you going?” he asked, his footsteps echoing behind me.

“My father,” I muttered under my breath, repeating it like a mantra. “My father… I have to save him. I have to save him…”

Brayden followed me closely, his towering presence looming behind me. “Luca,” he said quietly, addressing the older man at his side.

“Yes, Don Giovanni?”

“Find out how much her father’s medical bills are,” he ordered. “Make sure it’s taken care of.”

“Yes, sir.”

I barely heard their conversation. My mind was consumed by one thought: I have to find my father.

I reached the reception desk, my hands slamming onto the counter. “My father,” I said, my voice frantic. “Where is he? Mr. Lorenzo. He was admitted earlier today. Please, I need to see him!”

The nurse behind the desk hesitated, her fingers flying across the keyboard. Her face paled as she read the screen.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “We lost him a few minutes ago.”

Her words didn’t make sense at first. I stared at her, uncomprehending.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “No, that’s not true. You’re wrong. Check again!”

“Miss Lorenzo,” she said gently, her eyes filled with pity. “I’m so sorry.”

The world tilted on its axis. My knees buckled, and darkness began to creep into the edges of my vision.

“Penelope!”

Brayden’s voice was the last thing I heard before I felt strong arms catch me, preventing me from hitting the ground.