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The scene moves between supernatural conflict and emotional human drama, keeping both elements intense and intertwined.
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"It seems… her heart problem has resurfaced," Charles murmured gravely, looking at Mia's motionless form on the hospital bed. "She needs rest, no stress—none. But she's been overwhelmed. The artificial heart isn't designed to handle emotional strain like this."
"Is she going to be okay?" Marvin interrupted, his voice raw, desperate.
"That depends on how much longer she keeps pushing herself."
Marvin's fists clenched as he turned to stare at Mia, lying pale and unconscious. "I don't care about the cost," he whispered hoarsely. "Spend everything. I want her alive." His voice cracked. "Alive. That's all I want."
He raised one hand, signaling his assistant to step closer. "I want Mike found," Marvin ordered. "Use everything—connections, money, surveillance. I don't care how. Bring. Him. Back."
Then without another word, he shoved his hand into his pocket and walked out of the building, jaw tight.
Back in the hospital room, Mia gasped suddenly, bolting upright as her hand flew to her chest. Her breath came in sharp, shallow bursts.
Sitting directly on her chest like a malevolent weight was Maria's ghost, her eyes glowing with fury. A flickering barrier of light—a shield Mia had summoned with trembling lips and whispered incantations—kept the spirit from fully taking over her body.
"What are you doing?" Mia hissed through gritted teeth. "If you keep this up, I'm going to die—scratch that, this body will die!"
"I don't care!" Maria's ghost screamed. "I want my son! I want Mike back!"
On the corner shelf, Dumpling, the small spirit familiar, was sitting cross-legged with a bag of popcorn in one hand, watching the spiritual battle like it was a blockbuster movie.
"Useless," Mia thought, rolling her eyes at him before turning back to the ghost pressing against the shield.
"Listen to me," Mia growled. "I can find your son—I will find him. I promise."
"You liar!" Maria screamed, her spectral face contorting. "You only care about yourself and your stupid mission!"
"You're right. I do care about my mission." Mia's eyes narrowed. "And right now, that mission is Mike. Taking care of him, protecting him, guiding him—that is my task. Do you really think I'd fail at something that important? I hate losing. I hate when someone gets in my way. I am better than you—smarter, stronger, and willing to do whatever it takes. Mike needs me now more than he ever needed you."
The ghost froze mid-lunge, wavering.
"You saw it, didn't you? He pushed that woman down the staircase—the woman who helped him. And who was the one who cleaned it up? Covered it all up?" Mia's voice dropped, almost seductively persuasive. "It was me. I protected him. Not you. So don't you dare pretend I don't care."
Maria's form flickered again.
"I can spoil him," Mia whispered. "Let him misbehave, let him shine. I'll make sure he's never in Jake's shadow again. I can be the kind of mom who does everything for her son—even the wrong things, if that's what it takes."
Maria's ghost finally pulled away, slowly getting off Mia's chest.
Mia sucked in a breath, clutching her chest as she sat upright. "Ahh, I can already see the light," she muttered sarcastically. "Great. Now I have to raise a child and babysit a ghost."
She looked toward Dumpling. "Come here. Help me de-stress."
But the creature vanished immediately.
Mia rolled her neck and stretched. "Coward."
---
Meanwhile…
Damien gently squeezed Oliver's hand as they sat side by side. "Don't be scared. I'm here for you. Whatever happens—we're in this together."
Oliver's eyes welled up, fear making her voice tremble. "What if the doctor refuses? What if he says Jake's eye can't be saved? He's so hopeful already, Damien. I don't want to see him shattered again."
Damien pulled her into a hug and patted her head softly. "He won't. I promise, we'll fight for his vision—and after all this, we'll visit my parents. They miss you."
Oliver smiled faintly. "I miss them too."
They stood and walked hand-in-hand into the doctor's office.
The doctor adjusted his glasses and looked at the medical file in front of him. His voice was calm but carried the weight of importance.
"Jake's condition is rare, but not untreatable," he began. "The surgery to restore vision in his damaged eye is delicate and comes with both possibilities and risks. The good news is, based on the scans, the optic nerve isn't completely severed. That means there's a chance—though not a guarantee—that we can restore partial or even full sight."
Oliver gripped Damien's hand tighter.
"The operation will involve microsurgery to repair the damaged nerve pathways and retina. He'll need to stay under observation for at least a week post-surgery. If successful, his vision will gradually return over time, but he'll need therapy and constant checkups."
Then the doctor's tone dropped slightly, more serious now.
"However, there are risks. If the nerve doesn't respond, the procedure could leave that eye permanently blind. There's also a chance of complications—bleeding, infection, or pressure building up in the eye post-op. I want you both to understand that while I will do everything I can, there are no absolute promises in this kind of surgery."
He closed the file and looked at them. "But I will take this case. Not because I came here cause if you dameien but I believe Jake deserves that chance."
As they left the office, the elevator doors opened—and out stepped Marvin, Charles, and Marvin's assistant, James.
"Oliver," Marvin called out, stepping forward with a familiar smile and arms slightly open.
But Oliver stepped back. Her eyes were cold and unreadable.
Hurt flickered in Marvin's expression, but he quickly masked it. He closed the distance, reaching for her hand. "Are you still mad at me? I did what I had to do, Oliver. It was a hard situation—"
Oliver raised her hand sharply, cutting him off. "A hard situation? You drugged me. You tried to harvest my heart—to give it to your mistress. And now you say the situation called for it?"
"I did what was right!" Marvin snapped. "Maria is a dancer—she needs a strong heart to live her dream. You're just a housewife now. I'm doing my best to make you both happy. I can take care of you. Ten times more than before."
"You disgust me," Oliver spat.
Damien stepped forward, fist clenched. Without a word, he punched Marvin square in the jaw.
"You're a disgrace," Damien growled. "You tried to sacrifice your wife for your mistress. And don't you dare call her a housewife like it's an insult. You know damn well why she lost her job."
Marvin reeled back, clutching his jaw. "So this is the toy boy now?" he sneered. "Is that why you want a divorce? For him? What about our son, huh? What about our family? You want to destroy that too?"
Oliver slapped him, hard.
"Stop blaming me for your crimes," she said icily. "You broke this family. You created this chaos."
Marvin grabbed her wrist, desperation flaring in his eyes. "You can hit me, scream at me, just… don't leave me. I love you. I won't go after your heart again, I promise. Please, Oliver."
Damien stepped between them again, shielding her. "Touch her again, and I swear, I'll make your life a living hell."
Marvin glared. "Get out of my way."
Just then, James stepped forward. "Sir, Maria has woken up. And the police… they're in her room."
Marvin let out a long breath, running a hand through his hair. He turned back to Oliver and brushed her cheek with his thumb.
"Just wait for me, okay?" he whispered. "We'll be a family again. The three of us. I swear."
He smiled—but it was terrifying. Too wide. Too polished. A mask with a promise of violence underneath.
Then he turned to Damien and sneered before stepping into the elevator. As the doors closed, he looked at James.
"Give me everything you know about him," he said. His eyes shut, his hand clenched tightly in his pocket.
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Mia lay on her bed, legs elegantly crossed, humming a soft lullaby under her breath as she lazily plucked strawberries from the porcelain bowl. The juice glistened on her lips like painted lacquer. She looked ethereal—like a painting brought to life. Her glossy black hair pooled like silk across the pillows, her skin pale and luminous beneath the golden light. Despite Maria's ghost glaring holes through her, Mia acted as though nothing existed outside her little world of red fruit and sweet melodies.
The door opened. Two officers stepped in.
"Ma'am, I'm here regarding the incident with your nanny," the male officer said. "She gave her statement—she fell due to her own carelessness."
Mia didn't sit up. She just dabbed beneath her eye with a folded silk handkerchief, sighing softly. "Oh… she's always been clumsy. But as long as my son isn't blamed for something he didn't do, that's all that matters."
The female officer shifted awkwardly, glancing between her notes and Mia's angelic, lazy demeanor.
"Well… I hope you take this calmly," she said, voice measured. "Your nanny's family… they're criminals. We found records of fraud, con artistry, human trafficking. They've changed identities multiple times to scam people. Your son was their target. The only reason he wasn't taken… was because she fell down the stairs before they could act."
The room fell silent.
Mia blinked once.
Her eyes fluttered slightly, lips parting. Her brows slowly drew in. First, a soft, innocent confusion—as though she hadn't heard correctly. Then her pupils widened, stunned. Her breathing quickened just slightly. Shock seeped into every inch of her perfect face.
Then it changed. Anger flickered across her delicate features like a shadow. Her lower lip trembled as she clenched her hand into the folds of her blanket.
Then… fear.
Pure, raw, trembling fear.
Her lashes shivered. Her breath caught. A soft, choked sob escaped her throat as she pressed a trembling hand to her chest, like she was struggling to hold her heart in place.
Even Maria's ghost—who knew this was all an act—froze. Her eyes widened.
"Oh my God…" Maria whispered, covering her mouth, her voice cracking despite herself.
The door burst open again. Marvin stormed in. "What now?" he barked, clearly annoyed.
The female officer told him everything in a low, serious voice.
His expression hardened with each word. His jaw locked. His fists curled so tightly they turned pale.
"I want those people to rot in prison," he growled, voice laced with cold rage. "How dare they target Mike? Don't they know who he belongs to? Mike is under Hade family protection."
The male officer instinctively lowered his gaze. Marvin gave a cold wave of dismissal, and the police left quickly with their assistant.
Then he turned to Mia.
She didn't throw herself into his arms. She didn't wail. She sat there, quiet and fragile, tears slipping silently down her cheeks as she whispered, "Are they the ones who kidnapped Mike…?" Her voice cracked so convincingly it pierced the air like broken glass. "My poor Mike… he must've been so scared… My baby…"
Her shoulders shook delicately. Each sob that slipped from her lips sounded like music soaked in sorrow. Her face was flushed, lips trembling, lashes heavy with tears that sparkled like morning dew.
Marvin didn't hesitate. He pulled her into a protective embrace, one hand resting on the back of her head, the other circling her waist. "I've got you," he murmured. "I've got you."
From the side, Maria's ghost could only stare.
Mia looked like a painting—no, like a tragic goddess out of a myth. Her beauty was impossible to ignore. Those doe-like blue eyes, shimmering with unspeakable pain. Her long, dark lashes that trembled with every blink. The curve of her jaw, the pale flush on her cheeks, the slight quiver in her lip… It wasn't just beautiful. It was devastating.
Even Marvin paused for a heartbeat, stunned by the sheer intensity of her expression. It sucked the breath out of him. His throat tightened. Then, with a hard blink, he snapped himself out of it, focusing on holding her tighter.
Up in the void, Dumpling drifted above the room, arms crossed, eyes wide.
"…She deserves an Oscar," he whispered. "I know she's acting, and I still feel bad. I actually feel weak watching her cry."
He sighed. "That woman's a menace."
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