Chapter 19 #2
“How dare you! How dare you play with people’s lives like this!
” I scream, tugging on the garment. “Blocking my mother’s chances to be added to the transplant list?
What kind of a person does that?” As if I’ve totally lost control of my own limbs, my hands flail in front of his face hysterically.
“She needs that transplant! I’ll say whatever you want me to say! I’ll do anything!”
“Would you?” His huge hand wraps around my wrist as he bends down, close enough for his breath to fan my ear. “Do whatever it takes to save your mother’s life?”
“Yes!”
“Alright.” He releases me, then skirts around the desk and sits down on the sofa near the bar cabinet. His head tilts to the side as he simply watches me. Is he really coming up with outrageous things he wants me to do? I don’t care. I’ll do anything he asks.
“Marry me.”
My mouth falls open.
“What?”
“The investigation might take an unexpected turn. At some point, the prosecution may want your testimony. And as you know, spouses can’t be compelled to testify against each other.”
I stare at him in complete shock, incapable of processing what he said.
“Your mother’s health is a runaway train. She needs that transplant, and she needs it now. Agree, and your financial situation is no longer an issue. I’ll take care of all the medical bills. And, with a donor found, Mrs. Fabbri will undergo transplant surgery immediately. Today.”
Today.
The word rings in my head like a blaring siren.
Even if Mom does get on the list, without the funds, the hospital would never agree to operate.
We’d never be able to afford the pre- or post-transplant care.
I could seek other financial help, beg for a loan from someone else, but that could take days, weeks, years. We’d lose the donor.
Today.
Dr. Reynolds pointed out that time is of the essence. Every day, every minute is a risk. There’s no way to tell when Mom may suffer another heart attack. I could lose her tomorrow.
Or I can save her today.
Today.
If I accept Ruffo’s insane offer.
I turn to face the monster who is playing with my mother’s life because of his stupid whims. The lack of any emotion in his icy gaze is so obvious that it sends a shiver down my spine.
He doesn’t care if my mother dies. Not if it happens because of his schemes or if it simply happens.
He probably doesn’t care about anyone other than himself.
A monster.
He is a monster, and he wants me to marry him. How did I ever believe him to be kind?
Not that it matters now. To give my mom a chance to live, I’d tie myself to a three-headed dragon for eternity.
“I agree,” I rasp.
Ruffo’s glacial eyes remain locked on mine as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a phone. After dialing, he brings it to his ear.
“Proceed.”
A single word.
As if everything has already been set in motion.
“Is there anything you’d like to know about the donor?” he asks.
Under different circumstances, I would. But not now.
Every second counts when Mom’s heart is a ticking time bomb.
I’m thankful for their sacrifice. Can sympathize with their family completely.
But I can’t bear to think about another death.
Another person losing their life. Even as that loss will give my mom her chance to live.
“Not right now,” I croak. “Please. Just make the transplant happen today.”
His gaze doesn’t waver as he returns to the desk and pulls another folder from the drawer.
This time, I’m faced with what is clearly a legal document.
The top half of the page lets me know everything I need to.
A bill of sale. Or it might as well be. It’s a life contract—where I sign mine away in marriage.
Every field is filled out. My name. The date.
All that’s missing is my signature. Right there, beside Adriano Ruffo’s neat and meticulous script.
“The ceremony will take place in three months. That should be enough time for your mother to recover.” Ruffo’s hand enters my field of vision as he lays a thick black and bronze pen over the paper. “Regardless, as of today, you’re officially mine.”
No matter how hard I concentrate on the pen, my hand isn’t reaching for it.
“Why?” I whimper. Why are you doing this? Why do you have to be so evil? I look up at him.
Tremors rack my body from the intensity of his cold stare.
“You do want me to save your mother’s life, don’t you, Little Iris?”
I grab the pen and scratch my name on the dotted line.
The sound of the door opening draws my attention. Two men enter. One is younger and dressed in an all-black suit. The other appears to be about my mother’s age, or maybe a couple of years older, and is wearing plain jeans and a pale-blue T-shirt.
“Has the money transfer been confirmed?” Ruffo asks. He’s hovering beside me while I continue to occupy his chair. Towering over me like an ominous shadow.
“Yes, my daughter just let me know.” The jeans man acknowledges with a nod and stops a few feet in front of the desk. He’s wringing his hands as if he’s nervous.
“Good.” Ruffo nods. “As we discussed, your grandson will be transported to Tokyo first thing tomorrow morning, and his treatment will commence the following day.”
“Thank you,” the older fellow says while I look away, uncomfortable to be witnessing an obviously private matter. “I’m ready, sir.”
A light touch brushes my chin, startling me.
“Close your eyes, Little Iris.” Ruffo’s husky whisper flows right next to my ear as he sweeps a stray strand of my hair away.
“Why?”
“Now. Please.”
Swallowing hard, I squeeze my eyes shut while dread settles over me.
“Go ahead.” Ruffo’s command seems to fill all available space.
Until a gunshot explodes inside the room.
My eyes fly open, and a soundless scream lodges in my throat as I watch, horrified and frozen, as the man in jeans drops to his knees.
Right there, in the middle of the office.
The gun falls out of his hand, clattering across the polished marble.
Blood pours from his temple, covering his cheek and nose, dripping onto that powder-blue T-shirt.
His eyes are still open, staring somewhere behind me.
I can practically see the light fading from them.
A choked gargle leaves his lips as he topples over, falling onto his side on the floor.
I can’t breathe. There’s not enough air. It’s as if a giant hand is squeezing my throat. I gasp. An enormous red stain spreads beneath the man’s head. Growing and growing and growing, like it’s reaching for me.
My heart is pounding so hard.
My ears are still ringing.
Until…
Silence descends. Absolute. Expanding all around me.
The world before my eyes seems to come to a halt. Freezing in frame on this gruesome scene.
The man just killed himself.
Steps.
Steady. Methodical. Disturbing the vacuum within.
Ruffo walks up to the dead man and crouches, checks his pulse.
After a few seconds, he nods. As if responding to a silent command, the office doors burst open, and a team of medical personnel rushes into the room.
A whirlwind of activity ensues. The dead man is loaded onto a gurney.
There are chest compressions. Some kind of squeezable bag and mask forcing air into him.
It doesn’t make sense.
Nothing makes sense.
The man in the black suit follows the EMTs out, closing the door behind him with no urgency at all. Like the dead leaving this place is a regular thing.
“Don’t worry.”
A palm grazes my upper arm. The touch is light, barely there. Still, it burns. The kind of pain that comes from exposure to freezing cold.
Goose bumps break out all over my skin. Tremors and chills rack my body.
“I’ve hired the best. His heart will be fine.”
I’m still gaping at the now closed door. Can still hear the receding sounds of the commotion.
“His...heart?”
“Yes. My car is waiting for you downstairs. Go collect your mother. Her care is being transferred to a private hospital.”
My brain finally starts catching up. The realization of what just happened hits me square in the chest. Knocks me over like a thousand-pound hammer. Crushing me beneath a mountain of horror. Obliterating everything in its wake.
The heart.
The donor.
My body starts to shake.
He asked if I wanted to know about the donor. I said, not right now. I didn’t want to think about another death.
“Everything will be fine, Little Iris.”
It won’t. Nothing will ever be fine again.
“What have I done?” I whisper, choking out the words.
“Nothing.” Ruffo’s voice, cold enough to freeze blood, wraps around me like an icy fog, seeping under my skin. “You were present during a transaction, nothing more. No one forced him. I simply gave him a choice. His heart in exchange for his grandson’s life. He picked.”
A beat of silence.
“Your mother needs a new heart. And I got one for you.” He nods toward the door. “Let’s make sure it doesn’t go to waste. Go.”
Launching myself out of his chair, I run across the office to the door. Through the exterior space that feels like a modern version of an ancient tomb. Away from the man who had me trade my mother’s life for another’s.