Chapter 195 I'm Dying (ELION)

Chapter 195 I'm Dying (ELION)
I swirled my wine, staring blankly out the jet window. The engines roared, filling the silence inside the cabin. Jack sat across from me, busy chewing his steak. He was recovering well after a three-day hospital stay. I was glad he was back in shape, even if it meant dealing with his damn chatter again.
"Boss, aren't you eating? The steak is really good."
"No."
"I haven't seen you eat a thing since we left the hotel. You sure you aren't hungry?"
"I'm fine."
"You've only been drinking wine. I'm worried about your stomach. The doctor said—"
"Can you just shut the hell up and eat your food? I'm fine."
My grip on the wine glass tightened. The pain flared up again. It always struck at the worst moments—first at Calia's apartment, and now while I was with Jack. But I wasn't about to let him know my damn stomach was hurting, otherwise, he’d become even more of a nuisance.
"You haven't looked right since you got back from Amsterdam. Is everything okay?"
"No."
"What happened? Did you see Calia?"
"Yes, and she has a daughter."
"What? Are you kidding me?"
"Calia got pregnant and gave birth to a girl. I can't believe she hid her affair with Dimitry from me. No wonder she insisted on divorcing me back then. She didn't want to carry my child because she was already pregnant with Dimitry's."
"You sure it's Dimitry's kid?"
"The girl calls Dimitry Papa. But she doesn't look like him at all. Instead, she looks like me. She has blue eyes."
"Wow, I can't imagine a little girl version of you with blue eyes. That must look absolutely terrible."
I threw a magazine at him, and it hit him square in the face.
"I'm dead serious."
"Sorry, Boss. But if that little girl looks like you, could she be your child?"
"I don't know; I'm not sure. Calia didn't want to carry my child back then. She had a contraceptive procedure done at the hospital. So, that little girl couldn't possibly be mine."
Jack frowned.
"That’s really strange. You should get a DNA test if you want to know the truth. But what will you do after that?"
"What do you mean?"
"If Calia is already married to Dimitry, there’s no point in doing a DNA test on the little girl. She’s already living happily with her parents."
"No. If she’s my daughter, I’m claiming her. I’ll even sue Calia for hiding her from me all this time."
"And what about Dimitry?"
"I’m sure Calia isn’t married to Dimitry. I didn’t see a ring on her finger."
"I told you, not all married women wear rings."
"But my gut tells me Calia isn’t married to Dimitry, even though she told me otherwise."
Jack shook his head.
"You’ve got a really complicated love life, Boss."
"I don’t care how Calia feels about me. I’m going to claim what’s rightfully mine. If that motherfucker dares to stand in my way, I’ll blow his head off. I swear it."
I think the pain in my stomach was aggravated by the anger and frustration I felt regarding the situation. Usually, the pain would go away on its own, but this time it lingered. It started when I was standing outside Calia’s apartment, and it didn’t subside at all—not even during the flight back to Chicago. That nine-hour flight was hell. I couldn’t close my eyes for a second, while Jack slept like the dead across from me.
I shifted restlessly in my seat, trying to find a comfortable position to ease the pain, but it didn't help at all. A cold sweat washed over me. I got up and headed to the lavatory to freshen up. A sudden wave of nausea hit my stomach. I vomited into the sink. I thought it was wine, but the color was too dark, and the consistency too thick. It was blood. I grabbed some tissues and wiped my lips. It really was blood. I clutched my stomach. The pain was fucking excruciating.
My palms were pressed against the lavatory wall as my vision began to blur. It hurt like hell, but I refused to let that damn sickness beat me.
"Sir, are you in there?"
The flight attendant knocked on the door. I let out a soft sigh, then opened it.
"Yeah?"
"Please return to your seat. We'll be landing soon."
I walked past her and went back to my seat. Jack was already awake. He looked at me with raised eyebrows.
"You were in the bathroom that long. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine."
"You're sweating a lot."
I ignored him and turned my gaze to the window. The Chicago skyline and its rows of skyscrapers came into view. I was going back to my boring life—dealing with shitty business, having fun with those bitches, and eventually dying a pathetic death just like my old man. Or, maybe I could make my life a little more meaningful if I made a difference. I wanted to live happily with the woman I loved, have a family—the kind of life Erick had always wanted for me.
I felt worse and worse as the jet touched down on the runway. My shirt was soaked with cold sweat. The sun beat down fiercely on my face as I stepped off the jet. I gripped the handrail because I was feeling unsteady on my feet.
"Boss? I don't think you're okay."
"Shut the fuck up."
I clutched my stomach as the pain became unbearable. It was beyond my pain threshold.
"Boss, we need to go to the hospital. You're in pain."
Jack practically dragged me to the car because I didn't have the strength to walk on my own. It was a kind of pain I’d never experienced before. Even the pain from a gunshot wound hadn't been this bad.
"You've been holding it in for hours?"
"Yeah, since I was at Calia's apartment. Argh..."
"That's almost twenty-four hours. You're crazy, Boss. Why didn't you tell me you were sick?"
A wave of nausea hit me again. I grabbed a tissue and vomited into it.
Jack was shocked to see the tissue was full of blood.
"Boss, your condition is serious. You need to undergo treatment."
I gasped for breath, wiping the blood from my mouth.
"I'm dying, Jack."