Chapter 220 Disposable Hospital Gown

Chapter 220 Disposable Hospital Gown
Calla held her breath, gripping the collar of her shirt. Her eyes bored into those of the doctor, waiting for a response. The others quickly gathered around him too.

The doctor looked at their anxious faces and gave a small reassuring smile. “You can all relax,” he said, and tension in the room eased slightly. “Mr. Romano is stable.”

A collective sigh escaped everyone. Calla nearly collapsed from relief.

The doctor glanced at the file in his hand before continuing. “The injury to the back of his head caused a deep split. It was serious, and if he hadn’t been brought in when he was, the outcome could have been much worse.”

Calla’s chest tightened again. She cursed Leah silently. Ezio had told her that Leah had escaped the scene in time before the explosion. But their men were looking for her.

“But,” the doctor quickly added, “the wound has been repaired successfully. The surgery went well.”

Another wave of relief washed over the group. Donna Marta placed a hand over her chest and shut her eyes briefly in gratitude.

The doctor continued, “Other than that, he’s suffering from severe exhaustion, dehydration, and a lack of proper nutrition. From what I understand, he hasn’t been sleeping or eating well for days.”

Calla's chest tightened even more, another wave of guilt taking over her. She knew why Rico hadn't been eating or sleeping well.

“He’ll need rest,” the doctor said. “But physically, he should make a full recovery.”

Calla felt tears sting her eyes again, she could finally breathe properly. “Ca-can we see him?” she asked immediately.

The doctor nodded, his gaze shifting from Donna Marta to Calla. “He has just been moved to one of our VIP recovery rooms," he said with a small smile. He was very much aware of who they were. Being one of the most influential and powerful families in Italy, no mistake was to be made.

Calla, Sophia, and Donna Marta took a step forward. But the doctor raised a hand gently. “One at a time, please.”

The group immediately fell silent. Eli still clung to Calla, and she touched his hair softly. 

“He just came out of surgery and is still weak. Too many visitors at once won’t be good for him," the doctor warned.

Everyone nodded and murmured in understanding. The doctor’s eyes moved across the group before excusing himself and then left.

Donna Marta turned to Calla with puffy tired eyes. “You can go first.”

Calla froze. Her heart immediately began racing. "M-Me?" She stuttered, her finger pointing towards her chest. Shouldn't she be the one? It was her son after all.

The others looked at her and smiled softly. Even Ezio gave a small nod toward the hallway. 

“Go,” Sophia said quietly.

"You are the one he definitely wants to see first." Donna Marta squeezed her shoulder. “He’s waiting for you.”

Calla swallowed hard and nodded. With trembling hands and a heart that wouldn’t stop pounding, she turned toward the hallway leading to Rico’s room. 

Then she slowly began walking, following the nurse who was assigned to assist them. Every step felt heavier than the last. Because after everything that had happened… She was finally going to see him.



Calla stepped out of the changing room dressed in a disposable hospital gown. A light blue surgical cap covered her hair, and a face mask rested over her nose and mouth.

She followed the nurse toward Rico’s room. The nurse pointed towards the door and then left.

Calla pushed the door to the VIP room slowly, her breath held as her feet stepped quietly against the sanitized hospital floors.

She gazed at the bed, and there Rico was, in a hospital gown, sleeping. Tubes and wires are going in and coming out of his nose, arms, and body. The machine by his side beeped slowly, monitoring his heartbeat.

Calla carefully shut the door and walked further into the room. 

She pressed one hand on her stomach, and the other over her mouth, trapping the sob that threatened to break loose.

But a tear still trailed down her cheeks.

She took slow steps to his bed. Every step heavier than the last. When she reached his bed, her hands hovered over his sleeping frame, too scared to make any sudden movements that would disturb him.

"Ri..." she whispered but her voice cracked. She swallowed and tried again. "Rico. Thank goodness you made it," she said, her hand finally grazing his cheek. It was so light that it almost didn't exist.

She bent her body, the mask still over her face, as she gave him a small kiss on his cheek. 

Biting her bottom lip to stop the tears, she held his hand and smiled at him. "You saved me. Again," she muttered, rubbing his fingers. "And I'm sorry I couldn't do the same for you."

Her eyes shut as more tears kept pouring. It landed on her hand and on Rico's arm. She sniffed, dragging back her snort.

Suddenly, she felt a soft squeeze on her hand, and she froze.

Her eyes widened as she immediately glanced down at their joined hands. Then her gaze snapped back to Rico’s face. Her heart began pounding.

He moved. He definitely moved. The squeeze had been weak, but she felt it.

“Rico?” she whispered, leaning forward into his pillow. For a second, nothing happened. Then his fingers twitched again. “Rico?”

Tears instantly gathered in her eyes. She tightened her hold on his hand and stepped closer to the bed.

His brows furrowed slightly, as if he was fighting against sleep. A small crease appeared between them before he slowly began opening his eyes.

Calla held her breath, her hands trembling with excitement and anticipation. 

It took him a few seconds to focus. His gray eyes moved lazily around the room before finally settling on her. They both stared at each other, saying nothing.

Relief crashed into Calla so hard that a sob escaped her lips. “Oh my God…” Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks.

Rico stared at her silently, still groggy from the surgery and medication. Then his gaze traveled over her face. The swollen eyes, the dried tear tracks, and the hospital gown.

His brows pulled together slightly, lips parted but no words came out. He shut them and tried again. “Yo-you’ve been crying,” he murmured hoarsely.

Calla laughed through her tears. “Of course I’ve been crying," she said, sniffing and pulling closer to him. Her free hand moved the hair out of his face.

Rico stared at her for another moment before his eyes softened. A faint smile appeared on his lips. “Then stop.”

Another sob escaped her. “You almost died.”

The smile on Rico's face disappeared immediately. He looked away briefly before returning his gaze to her. “But I didn’t.”

Calla shook her head. “You idiot.”

Rico let out a weak chuckle that quickly turned into a wince. He tried to sit up, but the throbbing in his head interrupted his movement.

Calla immediately leaned forward. She stopped him. “Don’t move.”

“I’m not moving,” he muttered.

She wiped her cheeks quickly. Then she sighed, she simply stood there staring at him, almost afraid he would disappear if she blinked.

Then Rico squeezed her hand again. This time, a little stronger. His eyes never left hers. “You’re okay?” he asked quietly.

Calla felt her chest tighten. After everything he had been through, that was still his first concern. And it's all thanks to him.

She nodded immediately. “I’m okay.”

“And Eli?”

“He’s okay.”

“Sophia?”

“She’s okay too.”

Rico slowly closed his eyes for a moment. The tension that had been sitting in his face since he woke up finally eased.

When he opened them again, Calla noticed the relief there. A small smile touched his lips. “Good.”