Chapter Two

Alva

As I stepped out of the ward for some privacy and space to think. I wondered if I was really going to do it. I swayed thinking about what the presence of Nikolas Sica had brought into the life of my late sister and I. It was impossible to imagine that I would need that monster's help ever again. I looked back at the door to the ward and knew I had no choice. Time was running out and Mr. Sica was the one thing that guaranteed that Samuel remained alive. The blood bank might not have a donor until tomorrow but the Sica enterprise was only a stone throw away from the hospital. Talk about cruel fate. Reluctantly, I searched for his contact. Well, not his. He had probably changed his private number one time too many but I had his enterprise "Contact us" number which hopefully would lead to his secretary or anyone important. With an afterthought, I hit the call button.

"Hello, This is Sica enterprises. What can I do for you?" A feminine voice began.

I was quiet. Unsure of what to say and for most of it, lost in my own imagination. I jumped back to reality upon hearing the lady repeat her question.

"Yeah– I would like to speak to your boss. Mr. Nikolas."

"I am so sorry. Mr. Sica is presently in a meeting but you can tell me whatever you have in mind."

There was an eerie silence once more. Would I really tell her that some miracle child of Nikolas Sica was lying in the hospital? I was one of the hundreds on that lost and would definitely be taken unseriously. I made a promise not to lie though so I kept good on my excuse.

"It is a private issue. Could you just tell him its a message from Alva."

Nikolas Sica was a man whore so that could bait him in but the reply of the woman stunned me.

"I will relay it to him."

Relay it to him? I've worked in a diner and anytime someone complained about how the food tasted. We always promised to relay it to the proper authority which of course was a lie.

"Wait!" I beckoned, losing hope. If this did not work. I would have to let go of my self-esteem and go after Nikolas Sica myself. It was something I dreaded but it was bound to happen.

"Yes?" The lady's voice boomed back at the end of the line.

"Tell him– His son is dying and I need his help." I disclosed, bursting into tears.

I swear I heard the woman chuckle.

"A son? I assure you Mr. Nikolas has no such thing."

"Hear me out. He does. Please, just listen..."

"If you are so sure Miss, I suggest you reach out to him personally." She interrupted. There was mockery in her toe.

"Please... Nikolas doesn't know of his son's existence. I just need his help. If you care about someone, You would understand. Just let me speak to him."

"I wish I could help you..."

"You can and it won't cost anything. Just let me speak to him. Please."

I heard the woman sigh and mumble something about being an emotional fool before returning to the line.

"Okay. You might regret this anyway."

Trust me, I know. For a span of minutes, there was silence, and just when I had given hope. A deep and familiar voice cut through the quiet.

"Hello?"

He replied. He fucking replied. I could feel the adrenaline rushing through her body. I was torn between the scorn I felt for this man yet I was happy to know his personal assistant actually helped. It felt like a miracle.

"Hello..." Several emotions flashed through my mind fuelling my anxiety and making me stutter.

"Sorry...Who is this?" He asked, his voice leveled with authority and pride I detested. It sent a chill right through me.

I... It doesn't matter. Just come, He needs you."

I hated saying the words. I wanted to swallow them up. But my pride had no place if I needed his help.

"I'm sorry, Who needs me?"

"Samuel, Your Son." I retorted.

I heard him give a hollow laugh. One that implied boredom. He then spoke. His voice sounded grim and bleak as if he said the same words a million times and he was tired of telling them yet again."Sorry Miss, You've got the wrong person. I use condoms and there is no way I would have a son that I didn't know existed."

His words hurt me. It stung to know that the sweet boy lying unconscious behind those doors had a father like Nikolas Sica. But while I would have stopped pushing, I refused to. There was nothing I wouldn't do to save Samuel.

" I beg you, Nikolas Sica, Samuel needs your blood. He might die soon and I know you don't believe anything I am saying but you have to. Nikolas, you have a son who is dying right now at Petrina Memorial and the only thing that could save him is your blood. Don't let him die..."

Then I waited for a reply. I prayed another miracle would happen. Something that would take away the emotion twisting at my throat even if I lacked faith, I could always hope.

"Petrina Memorial? Isn't that an awfully close place to be right now?"

I knew it. He would disappoint. Just like he disappointed Laura. I clenched my first in regret and decided to end the call but just then and there, he said something.

"I hope you aren't lying though. It wouldn't fun to sue another woman."

Did he give in? It didn't register within me. He was a terrible person. Why would he out the blues choose to help?

"I will be waiting," I said, my voice sounding thin and disbelieving. I walked back to the door of the ward Samuel was in. I was a bit afraid to reassure anyone that Samuel was going to be safe. That his absentee father would come to his aid when I wasn't so sure myself. I walked back and forth the children's ward with my brain echoing words of doubts into my head. What if Nikolas Sica was playing a cruel joke. He did want Samuel aborted when he learned of his existence and judging by our clueless he was when I called him for help, I doubted he actually meant his words. I was a fool with hopelessly optimistic expectations of people.

The sound of my phone chiming drew back to reality and I peered into my screen to see an unfamiliar number. I picked.

"I'm at the children's ward. Where exactly are you?"

I dropped my phone below my ear. Not from the shock but I could hear him. I started into the straight distance of the hall and even through the flickering lights, There was no way I would miss that silhouetted dark-suited figure speaking into the phone in a rich ombre tone. I slowly put the phone back over my ear.

"Ward eighteen," I replied.

My voice probably echoed across the room because his dark eyes roamed across the hallway only stopping when it found me.