Chapter 150 Something's in Her Head

Chapter 150 Something's in Her Head
Alexander's POV:

I sat alone on the leather sofa in our living room, my fingers rhythmically drumming against the armrest. The spacious room felt suffocating as I stared at the door, waiting. My usual composure had abandoned me, leaving only the raw anxiety churning beneath.

The sound of footsteps pulled my attention upward. Bill appeared with Joseph.

"Mr. Sterling," Joseph greeted with a slight bow of his head.

I acknowledged him with a curt nod. "Dr. Joseph. Thank you for coming so quickly."

I gestured toward the chair across from me. Joseph settled into it, placing his medical bag beside him.

"May I ask why you've summoned me all the way from Italy during your honeymoon?" Joseph asked, his brow furrowed with concern. "Where is Donna?"

My jaw tightened momentarily. I raised my hand, pointing toward our master bedroom.

"She's sleeping... again," I said, unable to mask the worry in my voice. "She's been... different this past month. Lethargic. No appetite. Sleeping fourteen, sixteen hours a day." My fingers resumed their anxious tapping. "It's not like her. Not at all."

Joseph listened intently, his expression growing increasingly grave.

He cleared his throat, choosing his next words carefully.

"I need to ask something personal, Mr. Sterling. Have you been using protection during intercourse?"

The question hung in the air, but I didn't flinch.

"Yes, consistently. Emma's only twenty-one. We're not planning on children yet."

"And her menstrual cycle? Regular?"

"Yes. We've already ruled out pregnancy."

Joseph nodded, then asked, "Any other symptoms? Changes in behavior or physical complaints?"

I thought for a moment. "She rubs her temples constantly. When I ask if she's feeling unwell, she says her sleep quality is poor. That she often has headaches."

Joseph's face grew more concerned. "I should examine her," he said finally, rising from his chair.

I led Joseph to our master bedroom, pushing the door open quietly. Emma lay sprawled across our king-sized bed, her golden hair fanned out on the pillow, breathing deeply.

Joseph hesitated at the doorway, uncomfortable with approaching my sleeping wife.

"Don't worry about waking her," I said with bitter irony. "That's part of the problem. She wouldn't wake if we set off fireworks in here."

Joseph raised an eyebrow, clearly troubled. For secretly a mafia donna, such deep sleep wasn't just unusual; it was dangerous.

"This is... concerning," Joseph admitted quietly, approaching the bed. He gently lifted Emma's eyelid, checking her pupillary response with a penlight. He checked her pulse and vital signs, his movements becoming increasingly urgent.

"Donna?" he called loudly. "Donna, can you hear me?"

Emma stirred slightly, mumbled something unintelligible, then rolled onto her side and continued sleeping.

Joseph exchanged a troubled glance with me. "Her reflexes are sluggish. Pupillary response is delayed." He lowered his voice. "Mr. Sterling, I need to conduct more thorough tests. You should prepare yourself—this isn't normal."

My face remained impassive, but my knuckles turned white as I gripped the doorframe. "Do whatever you need to do."

Joseph nodded and unpacked more equipment from his bag. The bedroom door opened again as James, Isabella, and Bill entered silently, lining up against the wall. No one spoke as Joseph performed a series of neurological tests, checking Emma's reflexes and responses.

With each test, Joseph shook his head repeatedly, muttering under his breath. The atmosphere grew heavier by the minute, broken only by the soft sounds of Joseph's equipment and Emma's steady breathing.

Finally, Joseph straightened up, his face ashen. He took a deep breath, as if steeling himself for what he needed to say.

"What is it?" My voice cut through the silence like a knife. "Tell me."

Joseph hesitated, clearly struggling to find the right words.

"Spit it out, Joseph," James urged, his usual playful demeanor absent. "What's wrong with her?"

Joseph cleared his throat. "Based on my preliminary examination," he began, his voice wavering slightly, "I believe Donna has a... a tumor in her brain."

The words hit me like a physical blow, leaving me stunned and silent.

"The symptoms—the lethargy, loss of appetite, excessive sleep, diminished reflexes—they all point to intracranial pressure," Joseph continued, his professional veneer cracking. "We need to get her to a hospital immediately for an MRI and CT scan to determine the exact location and nature of the tumor."

Joseph's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I'm sorry, Mr. Sterling..."

The room went completely still. I stood frozen, my eyes fixed on Emma's sleeping form, my fists clenched so tightly my knuckles threatened to burst through my skin.

James was the first to break the silence, his voice uncharacteristically shaky. "Joseph... what... what are you saying? I... I don't understand."

Isabella had gone deathly pale, while Bill lowered his head, unable to look at either me or Emma.

"Mr. Sterling," Joseph spoke again, his voice steadier now, "I need to take Donna to Italy for testing. My equipment and team are there."

My gaze snapped to Joseph, suddenly laser-focused. "What do you need? Top-of-the-line equipment? Special medications? Which specialists? Just name it!"

"I'll take her back to Italy for a full examination first," Joseph replied. "If it's benign, I can operate immediately. If it's..." He trailed off. "Based on what we find, I'll tell you which specialists we need."

"Bill, arrange for Sterling Group's private jet immediately. We're going to Italy," I ordered, my face ashen but determined. "And don't tell Emma about this yet."

"Mr. Sterling..." Joseph closed his eyes, hesitated for several seconds, then shook his head. "It's too late for that."

Everyone looked at Joseph in confusion.

"Let Neil come too," a clear voice spoke from the bed. "If I can be saved, let Joseph and Neil operate on me. If there's no hope, then so be it."

Emma was sitting up, wide awake, her eyes alert and focused.

"Emma?!" I exclaimed.

"Donna?!" James and Isabella gasped simultaneously.