Semua Bab Ruthless Claim: Bab 61 - Bab 70

Rain still lingered in soft sheets over the city, but inside the penthouse, the atmosphere was heavy with quiet tension. Aria lay curled beneath a light blanket on the sofa, exhaustion etched into every line of her body. Her fingers absently traced the swell of her belly, now calmer, but the memory of the night’s chaos refused to leave her chest.Luca hovered nearby, laptop open but largely ignored. His eyes, sharp and restless, constantly flicked toward her, searching for any sign of weakness. “You need rest,” he said, voice low. “You pushed yourself too far yesterday.”“I’m fine,” Aria murmured, her voice tight with the lingering tremor of panic. “The baby’s fine, Luca. That’s what matters.”He shook his head, closing the laptop and striding over. He crouched beside the sofa, gripping her hand. “Fine? You collapsed, Aria. You nearly scared me half to death. I can’t… I can’t lose you.”Her gaze met his, heavy with both guilt and frustration. “I know you care, but you can’t keep hover

The steady beeping was the first thing I registered.Not voices.Not footsteps.Just the faint, thin rhythm of a machine that somehow sounded more fragile than any cry.I opened my eyes slowly, as if the world itself was too heavy to look at. The ceiling lights above me blurred, flickered, then sharpened. My throat felt dry. My limbs are heavy. My chest is tight.Where…Where was“Aria?”Luca’s voice broke through the fog. Rough. Low. Shaken.I turned my head weakly. He was sitting beside my bed, elbows on his knees, hands clenched so tightly his knuckles had turned white. His shirt was wrinkled, his hair disheveled, his eyes bloodshot like he hadn’t blinked in hours.When he met my gaze, something inside him shattered in silence.“You’re awake,” he whispered, as if he was afraid saying it too loudly would undo it.I tried to sit up, but a sharp pull in my abdomen forced me back down. “The baby…” My voice cracked instantly. “Where is he? Luca, where’s our son?”He was already standing

The alarm didn’t stop.It screamed through the walls, through my bones, through everything left of me.I tried to stand.My legs failed instantly.“Aria!” Luca caught me before I collapsed, his arms iron around my shaking body. My fists slammed weakly against his chest as panic tore through me.“They’re hurting him,” I sobbed. “They’re hurting him and.”“No,” Luca said fiercely, pressing his forehead to mine. “They’re saving him. Look at me. They’re saving him.”But his voice was breaking too.We stood there helplessly as the doors remained sealed, the sound of machines raging on the other side. Nurses rushed past us with more equipment. No one met our eyes.No one gave us answers.Minutes passed.Or seconds.Or hours.Time had no meaning anymore.I felt every distant alarm as if it were inside my chest. My heart kept trying to match the rhythm of whatever was happening inside that room.Then—Silence.The alarm cut off so suddenly that my knees buckled.Luca held me tighter. “That’s…

Aria’s POVThe darkness swallowed everything.For one frozen second, the world ceased to exist—no lights, no monitors, no movement. Just silence. ThenBeep.One extended, unbroken sound cut through the dark like a blade.I couldn’t breathe.My knees buckled instantly, and if Luca hadn’t caught me, I would’ve collapsed right there on the cold hospital floor.“No,” I whispered, the word barely a sound. “No—no, please.”“Stay with me,” Luca said urgently, gripping me tighter. “Aria, stay awake. Look at me.”But I couldn’t look at him. My eyes were locked on the incubator, now barely visible in the faint red emergency glow that flickered weakly along the walls.The flatline screamed again.Doctors shouted. Nurses ran. Hands collided with equipment as someone yelled for manual ventilation.“Power backup is failing!”“We’re losing oxygen, move now!”My heart slammed so violently it felt like it might tear free from my chest. “Luca… our baby”“I’m here,” he said fiercely, his voice shaking i

The room was eerily quiet, not peaceful but held together by machines and shallow breaths. The soft hiss of oxygen filled the space as our son slept in the incubator beside my bed, tubes trailing from his tiny body. His chest rose and fell stubbornly in a shallow rhythm, each breath feeling like a quiet victory I dared not celebrate loudly.Luca stood beside me, one hand on his phone, the other resting lightly on my shoulder. His body was rigid again, like armor sliding back into place.“They’ve moved,” he said.The coldness in his voice frightened me more than the words.“What kind of move?” I asked quietly.He hesitated, eyes fixed on the glass wall of the incubator.“They filed an emergency injunction,” he finally said. “Freezing my authority as CEO until the legal challenge is resolved.”My heart sank. "Meaning...?"“Meaning I no longer control De Rossi Global,” he said flatly. “Not for now.”The words felt heavy, substantial, dangerous.“And Benedetti?” I whispered.Luca’s jaw ti