Chapter 105

Chapter 105
Aria’s POV
Jessica studied my face for a long moment.
In that silence, I could see her mind working, piecing together fragments I'd tried so hard to hide. The expensive treatment, the sudden resolution of all our financial problems, my evasive answers about where the money came from. She was too smart, too perceptive, had always been able to read me better than anyone.
"Aria," she said finally, her voice quiet but carrying an edge I'd never heard before. "Someone came to see me yesterday. She said you made an arrangement with a powerful family. That you're living in their house, bound by a contract." Jessica's eyes searched mine, desperate for me to deny it. "She said you agreed to be a surrogate. To carry Damian Cavalieri's child."
The world tilted. I gripped the bed rail to steady myself as the room seemed to spin. "Jessica, I can explain—"
"Explain?" Her voice cracked. "Explain how you agreed to this? How you're trapped in some arrangement where you have to sell your body, carry a stranger's child, just to keep me alive?"
"He's not a stranger," I whispered, the words slipping out before I could stop them. "Not anymore."
Jessica's face crumpled with a mixture of horror and heartbreak. "Oh God. That's even worse. You've developed feelings for him, haven't you? For the man who bought you like property?"
"It's not like that—"
"Then what is it like, Aria?" Tears began streaming down her cheeks. "Tell me how any of this is okay! Tell me how you convinced yourself that selling yourself was the answer!"
"You were dying!" The words exploded from me. "The doctors gave you weeks, maybe days. I tried everything else first—every job, every loan, every desperate option I could find. And then Damian offered help, and I took it because I couldn't lose you. I couldn't watch you die when I had a chance to save you."
"By destroying yourself?" Jessica's voice rose. "By agreeing to carry his child? By living under his control? That's not saving me, Aria. That's sacrificing yourself on an altar I never asked for!"
"I made this choice willingly—"
"Because you had no other options!" She was shouting now, her hands trembling. "Because the world is so twisted that the only way to save someone is to sell yourself to powerful men! That's not a choice, that's coercion dressed up as charity!"
I moved closer, desperate to make her understand. "Jessica, please. Yes, the situation is complicated. But I made this decision because you're worth it. You've always been worth it."
"Worth your freedom?" She shook her head violently. "Worth watching you become someone's possession? No, Aria. No sister is worth that price."
"You are to me."
"Then you're a fool!" Jessica's voice broke completely. "And I won't accept it. I won't let you continue living like this for my sake."
A terrible dread settled in my stomach. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying I'm done." Her jaw set with stubborn determination I recognized from our years together. "I'm refusing all further treatment. I won't continue living if it means you stay trapped in that house, bound to that man."
"No." The word came out strangled. "Jessica, you can't—"
"I can and I will." Her eyes blazed with a fierce resolve. "I'd rather die on my own terms than live knowing what you've sacrificed. I won't be the chain that keeps you imprisoned."
"You're being ridiculous—"
"Am I?" Her laugh was bitter. "You sold yourself for me, Aria. The least I can do is free you from that burden by choosing to end this."
"It's not a burden!" I grabbed her shoulders. "You're my sister. Saving you wasn't a burden, it was the only choice that mattered!"
"Then let me make my choice now." Jessica pulled away from my grip. "If you won't leave that man, if you won't find a way out of this contract, then I'll refuse all medical treatment." Her voice cracked. "I'm begging you, sister. Walk away from the Cavalieris. Come with me, and we'll figure something else out. Anything would be better than this."
She doesn't understand. The contract couldn't simply be broken. Damian held all the leverage—the medical payments, the legal agreements, the power to destroy both our lives if I violated the terms. Running would solve nothing.
But looking at Jessica's desperate, determined face, I couldn't find the words to explain the impossibility of what she was asking.
"I can't just leave," I whispered. "Jess, the contract has consequences—"
"Then watch me die." Her eyes were hard, final. "Because I mean it, Aria. I won't live like this. I won't be the excuse for your suffering."
"Stop saying that—"
"Why should I?" Jessica's breathing grew rapid, her face flushing dangerously. "All this time, I thought you were working an honest job. I thought the money came from legitimate work. But this? This is prostitution dressed up in legal language! You're carrying his baby like some medieval broodmare, and you want me to just accept it?"
"You don't understand what you're saying—"
"I understand perfectly!" Her voice rose to a shout. "You sold your body to save me! You're pregnant with a crime lord's baby! You're trapped in his house, living by his rules, and you expect me to just smile and say thank you? I'd rather die than accept that!"
The door burst open. Two nurses rushed in, alarm written across their faces.
"What's happening?" the older nurse demanded, immediately moving to check Jessica's monitors. "Her heart rate is spiking dangerously."
"She needs to leave!" Jessica gasped, pointing at me with a shaking hand. "Make her leave! I don't want her here!"
"Jessica, please—" I reached for her, but the younger nurse stepped between us.
"Miss, you need to step back. The patient is having a crisis."
"I'm her sister—"
"We need to stabilize her now." The older nurse was already preparing a syringe. "You'll have to wait outside."
I watched helplessly as Jessica thrashed against their restraining hands, her face contorted with rage and grief and betrayal. The sight of my gentle sister, my sweet Jessica who'd never raised her voice in anger, now screaming at me to leave—it broke something fundamental inside me.
"You should have let me die," she sobbed as the sedative entered her IV. "You should have... should have..."
Her words slurred, eyes fluttering as the medication took hold. Within seconds, she went still, her breathing evening out into unconsciousness.
The older nurse turned to me with a mixture of sympathy and disapproval. "Miss Rossi, whatever that argument was about, it needs to be resolved carefully. Stress like that could seriously compromise her recovery."
Recovery. The word felt like a mockery. How could there be recovery when Jessica was ready to refuse treatment rather than accept my sacrifice?
I sank into the visitor's chair, my legs too weak to support me. Nurse Santos checked equipment, adjusted monitors, made notes on charts. The younger nurse had already left.
"Can I ask you something?" My voice came out small, broken. "About Jessica's condition?"
Nurse Santos glanced at me, her expression softening slightly. "I can answer general questions."
"Her kidneys... how critical is the situation really?" The words felt like glass in my throat. "I know she's on dialysis, but what are her actual chances? Of recovery? Of a normal life?"
The nurse's face grew somber. "Your sister's case is complicated. The dialysis keeps her stable, but it's not a long-term solution. She really needs a transplant for any hope of a normal future."
"And finding a match?"
"Very difficult. The waiting list is long, and compatible donors are rare." She hesitated, then leaned closer. "Though, between you and me, there might be news on that front."
My heart skipped. "What kind of news?"
"I shouldn't say anything," Nurse Santos glanced at the door, lowered her voice. "But there's been talk among the staff. Dr. Martinez mentioned something about a compatible donor."
"What?" I stood so quickly the chair scraped loudly. "There's a matching donor? For Jessica? When? How long have they known?"
"I don't have details—"
"Then get them!" I grabbed her arm, desperation making me bold. "Please, this is my sister's life. If there's a matching donor, why hasn't surgery been scheduled? Why hasn't anyone told us?"
Nurse Santos pulled her arm free gently, her expression growing guarded. "Miss Rossi, I really don't have that information. You'd need to speak with Dr. Martinez."
"Then page him. Call him. I need to know what's happening with my sister's treatment."
"It's very late—"
"I don't care what time it is!" My voice rose. "If there's a kidney available for Jessica, someone needs to explain why she's still on dialysis instead of in surgery!"
The nurse looked uncomfortable, her eyes darting to the door. "These decisions are complex. There are protocols—"
"Protocols? My sister is dying, and you're talking about protocols?"
"Miss Rossi, please—"
"Why would there be a compatible donor and no surgery?" The question came out sharp, accusing. "That doesn't make sense. Unless someone blocked it. Unless someone decided my sister wasn't worth saving."
"That's not how it works—"
"Then how does it work?" I demanded. "Explain to me why a matching kidney is available but my sister is still dying!"
Nurse Santos's face shifted from sympathy to something more uncomfortable. "I... I shouldn't say this..."
"Tell me!"
She glanced at the door again, then seemed to make a decision. "Fine. You want to know? The reason there's been no surgery despite the donor match is because someone gave specific instructions not to proceed."
The room tilted. "What? Who would—"
"Mr. Cavalieri." The name dropped like a stone. "Damian Cavalieri contacted the hospital administration directly. He's covering all of Jessica's medical expenses, which gives him significant influence over treatment decisions. And he specifically stated that no transplant surgery should be performed without his explicit approval."
I felt the blood drain from my face. "That's impossible. Damian wouldn't—"
"I'm only telling you what the staff has been saying, Miss Rossi." Nurse Santos's voice held something between pity and judgment. "The surgical team has been ready for weeks. There's a perfectly viable kidney from a compatible donor. But Mr. Cavalieri has blocked the procedure."
"Why?" The word came out as barely a whisper. "Why would he do that?"
The nurse's expression made it clear she had her own theories, none of them kind. "I imagine you should ask him that directly. But if I were to guess..." She paused meaningfully. "Someone in his position might find it useful to maintain certain leverage. A sick sister who needs constant expensive treatment—that's very effective leverage, wouldn't you say?"
The implication hit me like a physical blow.
Damian had deliberately kept Jessica sick. He'd had the power to save her completely, to give her the transplant that would free her from dialysis, but he'd chosen not to. He'd chosen to keep her dependent, keep her needing his money, keep her as his perfect tool to control me.
All his promises about caring for Jessica, about ensuring her treatment, about wanting to help—all lies. Beautiful, elaborate lies designed to keep me grateful, compliant, trapped.
"I need to see Dr. Martinez," I said, my voice hollow. "Now."
"He's not on duty until morning—"
"I don't care. Wake him up. Drag him here. But someone is going to explain to me why my sister's life has been used as a bargaining chip."
Nurse Santos studied my face, then nodded slowly. "I'll see what I can do. But Miss Rossi..." She paused at the door. "Be prepared for answers you might not want to hear."
She left, and I was alone with Jessica's sleeping form and the terrible truth crystallizing in my mind.
Damian had been manipulating me from the very beginning. Every gentle touch, every moment of seeming care, every promise about protecting Jessica—all calculated moves in a game I hadn't even known I was playing. He'd kept my sister sick not despite having the power to heal her, but precisely because that power was his leash on me.
Her illness was his leverage. Her dependence was his control.
And I had fallen for it. God help me, I'd actually started to believe he cared. That beneath the cold exterior was someone capable of genuine feeling, someone who might actually—
No. I couldn't even finish that thought now.
This wasn't complexity or moral ambiguity. This was cruelty disguised as generosity. This was manipulation so complete, so absolute, that I'd mistaken my cage for a sanctuary.
My hands clenched into fists, rage unlike anything I'd ever felt burning through my veins. All those nights I'd lain awake, grateful for his help. All those moments I'd softened toward him, thinking maybe there was something real between us.
All while he held the key to Jessica's complete recovery and chose not to use it.
All while he kept her sick to keep me bound.
The door opened again, and a different doctor entered—younger, with tired eyes. "Miss Rossi? I'm Dr. Chen, the night supervisor. Nurse Santos said you had urgent questions."
I stood, trying to keep my voice steady. "I want to know about the kidney transplant. I was told there's a matching donor but the surgery hasn't been scheduled. I want to know why."
Dr. Chen's face grew carefully neutral. "I'd need to review the files—"
"No more delays!" My voice cut like a blade. "My sister is dying, there's a matching kidney available, and someone has been blocking the surgery. I want to know who and why, and I want to know now."
He studied me, then sighed. "Miss Rossi, I can't discuss administrative decisions regarding your sister's care without proper authorization—"
"Then get the authorization." My voice was ice. "Wake whoever you need to wake. But I'm not leaving this hospital until someone explains why my sister's life is being used as leverage."
Something in my expression convinced him I wasn't bluffing. He nodded slowly. "Let me make some calls. But I should warn you—these situations are often more complicated than they appear."
"Complicated." I laughed bitterly. "Is that what we call it when powerful men play with people's lives?"
He had no answer. He left, and I returned to Jessica's bedside.
I'm so sorry, Jess, I thought, touching her hair gently. I thought I was saving you. But all I did was trade one prison for another. And you're the one paying the price.
The rage inside me hardened into diamond-sharp clarity.
Damian Cavalieri had made a fatal mistake. He'd shown me exactly how cruel he could be, exactly how far he would go to maintain control. He'd revealed that there were no limits to his manipulation, no depths he wouldn't sink to in order to keep me bound.
And now I knew. Now I understood what kind of man I was really dealing with.
Whatever feelings I'd been developing, whatever softness I'd felt toward him—it was all built on lies. Built on the suffering of the person I loved most in the world.
I would never forgive him for this.
Never.