Chapter Three

“Yes… I spoke to him. He’s ready to cooperate,” Rosa lied smoothly. She couldn’t let anyone know about her dark past—especially not about her mafia ex-husband.

“That’s… umm… that’s good,” Dr. DeLuca said, though his voice carried a hint of awkwardness. Lucy noticed it immediately.

“However, you still need to submit the remaining payment soon,” he reminded gently. “I’m sorry, but I can’t stop the administration from demanding the receipt any longer.”

“Of course, Doctor,” Rosa replied softly. “I’ll be making a partial payment today.”

She had some money—the meager amount her ex-husband had given her—and now, she was going to use every last cent of it for their son’s treatment.

“And really, I should be thanking you,” she added, her voice thick with genuine gratitude. “You’ve helped me buy time and convinced the hospital administration to allow installments. But rest assured—I will pay every single penny. Even if...” She swallowed the lump in her throat, steeling her resolve. “If you could just help me one last time, Doctor. I need you to find a recipient. I am willing to donate my organs in exchange for the remaining balance.”

Dr. DeLuca’s brows pulled together.

“No, that's not going to happen. I would never let you sell yourself,”  he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. “I’ve already spoken to a charity organization connected to our hospital. They fund cases where families can’t afford treatment. I’m confident they’ll approve Renzo’s case.”

Rosa’s eyebrows lifted slightly as her dull gaze began to shimmer with hope. “Thank you…” she whispered, her voice choked with emotion.

“Of course,” Dr. DeLuca said gently. “It’s the least I can do.”

He paused, then added with a polite smile, “By the way… are you free tonight?”

“Yes, Doctor?” Rosa replied softly, unsure what he meant.

“Actually… I wanted to discuss Renzo’s treatment in more detail,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “But I have a surgery scheduled now, and I won’t be free until late. I was wondering if… maybe we could talk over dinner? Only if you’re comfortable, of course.” 

“Of course,” Rosa agreed softly. She was already deeply grateful he was helping and personally taking care of her son's treatment. Besides, she also wanted to discuss the next steps—especially if she had to move out of the country again.

“Alright then.” Dr. DeLuca’s smile widened. “I’ll text you the location. How does eight o’clock sound?”

“Fine,” Rosa nodded as she got up. “Thank you,” she added before walking out, Lucy following behind.

“I think Dr. DeLuca likes you,” Lucy teased with a smirk.

“Nonsense. He’s Renzo’s doctor and just concerned about his patient. Perhaps he wants to discuss something important.” Rosa waved off her friend’s remark.

“But asking his patient’s mother out to dinner?” Lucy smirked. “He could’ve just discussed it over the phone, you know.”

“Maybe he wants to talk face-to-face. The treatment is intense, and we still have to wait nine months—even though I’m pregnant. I need to make sure my Renzo recovers completely,” Rosa murmured, her voice drifting off as her mind wandered.

“Rosa,” Lucy’s voice turned serious, gently bringing her back to the present. “If you’re pregnant… you’re going to have another baby. That means—”

“More responsibility. I know. And I’m ready for it,” Rosa said firmly. But deep down, her heart trembled with anxiety. The treatment, the pregnancy… She didn’t even know how she’d manage the payments.

In the evening, Rosa met Dr. DeLuca for dinner. Lucy had insisted she wear something nice rather than those boring clothes and had lent her her hottest outfit: a white crop top and black mini skirt.

After placing their orders, he looked at her seriously and said, “The stem cell transplant is going to be very expensive. You should be prepared.”

“I’ll do anything to pay for the treatment,” Rosa replied desperately. “Can you help me find an organ recipient? I want to sell one of mine.”

Dr. DeLuca pressed his lips together, staring at the woman before him with an intensity that made her feel awkward. 

Finally, he exhaled and said firmly, “I won’t let you do that, Rosa. And I’ve already told you that for the treatment—I’m already in talks with one of the largest charity organizations that supports cases like this. I’m confident they’ll agree to cover the expenses.”

Rosa suddenly looked overwhelmed with emotion. “Thank you so much, Dr. DeLuca. I can’t express how much this means to me. I’ll be indebted to you for the rest of my life.” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. When she had thought every door was closed, when even her own family had turned away, here he was—willing to help her without any obligation or relation.

“First of all, call me Samuele,” he said gently. “And I’m a doctor—it’s my duty to ensure my patients get the treatment they need and recover.”

“Still… you’re like a godsend to me. I can’t even thank you enough.”

“That’s fine, Rosa. Don’t overthink it,” Dr. DeLuca chuckled softly and covered her hand with his, a quiet gesture of comfort.

But just then, someone grabbed her arm and yanked her out of her chair with such force she gasped in pain.

“Ow—what the hell—?”

“You really don’t waste time, do you?”  came a cold, menacing voice.

Rosa’s eyes widened in shock as she turned and saw Don Luciano Mancini standing there, fury blazing in his eyes and his jaw clenched tight. “Already moving on to the next man? Is that what this is?”