TWENTY-FIVE.

“I want Mr. Bishop moved into a private ward where he will receive the best treatment this hospital has to offer,” Don Valentino demands as he speaks with the Head Of Department, in the cardiac ward.

I stand beside him, my jaw agape as I gaze at him in astonishment. He exudes wealth, power, and an aura that should not be trifled with.

“I'll see what we can do with such short notice, Mr Valentino” The blonde-haired female replies as she bats her fake eyelashes at him.

I swear, if she bats them any faster, she will create a mini-tornado right where we are standing.

“Look, Mrs?” He sighs with frustration.

“Ms. Yasmin Richards.” Her brows pinch together. “Kindly avoid using 'Mrs' in my name when addressing me.” Her cheeks flush with a lovely shade of pink. “I'm not married, and I’m definitely not my mother.” She hums, like what she is saying is relevant.

“Ms. Richards,” Don Valentino raises his voice as he mutters her name. “I am paying this hospital a great deal of money, along with a