My Possessive Bad Guy

Aventora, Montavia

"Ms. Rosales, are you certain you want Mr. Gomez listed as the cornea recipient?"

"Yeah." Noemi Rosales smiled, even though her skin looked like paper. "Give them to him. Once I'm gone, the hospital can use the rest of me for science or whatever."

She'd just gotten hit with the worst news—brain cancer. Malignant. Surgery odds? Pathetic.

So she dropped the treatments. Made her choice.

"If you're certain, sign here."

She signed. "Don't tell him."

Outside, her phone buzzed—Daniel Gomez's name lit up the screen.

"Miss, it's pouring. Where you headed?" the driver asked.

Noemi glanced at the downpour, smile twitching at her lips, heart racing like she had a secret.

"I'm picking up my husband."

The driver chuckled. Said the guy was lucky.

That got to her.

Daniel had actually texted her today. Maybe because his cornea transplant was around the corner?

She didn't wait around. Bolted out of the car and dashed into the storm, slipping into the bar soaked and breathless.

Her shawl clung to her like plastic wrap. After a quick stop in the bathroom to dry off, she headed to the private room.

"Daniel, I'm here to take you home."

A snort, then full-on laughter.

"She really came? In this weather?"

The room was thick with smoke and mockery. Faces everywhere—his friends, drunk and entertained.

Daniel sat center stage, white shirt too clean for this place, cigarette loose in his hand. His eyes were unfocused.

"Noemi, I dropped you a random pin, and you actually showed. Like a dog. Pathetic."

The whole room cracked up.

Pain stabbed through her chest, but she swallowed it down and smiled anyway.

"Daniel, let's go home."

Daniel ignored her and kept drinking like she wasn't even there.

Noemi stumbled forward and yanked the glass from his hand. "Your surgery's around the corner. You can't drink."

He scoffed. "You think you can tell me what to do?"

Even blind, his glare was ice-cold. She could feel it cut straight through her.

"You're getting your sight back. You'll finally have your life back. Aren't you even a little happy?"

Nothing.

She inhaled deeply. "I heard Ivanna's back..."

He snapped. "You think you're even worthy to say her name?"

Before she could react, he grabbed an ashtray and whipped it at her.

It hit. Blood spilled down her temple.

Silence.

Everyone in the room froze. Then, awkward glances. One by one, they slipped out, leaving the two of them behind.

"If it weren't for you, Ivanna would still be here. I wouldn't be blind."

His voice was poison. "You should've died instead. You're a manipulative freak who never deserved to live."

Noemi went pale. Her chest felt shredded, but she still managed a shaky smile.

"Even if you hate me, I never once regretted taking you from her. Ivanna was never—"

"Shut up! Don't say her name!"

He stood, wobbly and furious.

Noemi pushed past the pain and crawled toward him.

For a split second, he reached out—and her heart jumped. Maybe he wasn't shutting her out.

Then his hand clamped around her throat.

Hard.

Her vision blurred as her face flushed red. He didn't ease up.

"Just the thought of seeing your disgusting face once I can see again? Makes me sick. Unless you vanish for good, don't ever show your face again."