Mike was brought home by the nanny. Once inside, he stormed to his room, slammed the door shut, and began throwing things across the room. He screamed, glaring at the mirror with teary eyes.
"How dare she hit me? She never hit me before! She doesn't love me anymore!" he shouted, his voice shaking. "She'll pay—everyone will. Tenfold."
The truth was, Mike already resented his mother for taking her own life in the past and leaving him alone. This just added fuel to the fire. He wiped his tears, looked at himself in the mirror, and whispered:
"I'm back… and this time, I'll change my fate."
He grabbed his phone and dialed Marvin. The moment the line connected, he started sobbing. A few minutes later, Marvin burst into the room and pulled him into a hug.
"Why are you crying, Mike? Tell me. I'm here for you. Always."
"I want a father," Mike whimpered. "Mom promised you'd be my dad. Now she's taking it back. Why can't I have a father? I don't want to be separated from you, Uncle."
Marvin sighed, stroking his hair gently. "Mike… I can't be your father, but I'll always support you as your uncle."
Mike lowered his gaze, nodding slightly, but his eyes burned red with anger.
Marvin stood up and turned to the nanny. "Take care of him. He's just a child. Is this how you do your job?"
The nanny bowed slightly. "Yes, sir."
Marvin hugged Mike again and left. Once he was gone, the nanny tried to hold Mike's hand.
"If something's wrong, just tell me, okay? Don't go calling your uncle."
Mike slapped her hand away and retreated into his room, slamming the door again.
"Tsk, spoiled brat," the nanny muttered as she walked to the living room. "If he keeps this up, he'll ruin his life. Not that I care, as long as I get paid. Now I can't even hang out with my friends thanks to him."
Unbeknownst to her, Mike had overheard everything. He stood quietly by the door, eyes red with hatred. After a long silence, he returned to bed and shut his eyes.
---
Meanwhile…
"You really suffered because of that fool Marvin," Daisy said angrily. "How could he do this to his wife for an ex-girlfriend? He gave your son's eyes to Maria's kid! What kind of man—what kind of father—does that?"
Oliver stared blankly at the wall, fists clenched. "He didn't just give her my son's eyes. He tried to give her my heart, too. He caused the accident… and then handed my son's future away.
Daisy gasped in disbelief.
"But I'm over it," Oliver said quietly. "I've already handed him the divorce papers and cut all ties. The only reason I'm still here is because Damien found a surgeon willing to perform the operation. Once Jake's surgery is done, we're leaving this country."
"That's the right decision," Daisy nodded. "But… don't you think Mike might be Marvin's son too? It's the only explanation for how far he went."
"I don't care anymore," Oliver replied with a calm smile. "He has nothing to do with me."
Just then, the front door opened. Jake and Damien entered, smiling. Oliver rushed to greet them, hugging Jake tightly.
"You look happy," she teased. "Spending more time with Uncle Damien than with Mommy?"
"Mom! I love you more!" Jake grinned. "But I'm happy because Uncle Damien bought me snacks!"
Damien crouched down with a playful smile. "So you only like me because I buy you food, huh?"
Jake giggled as Damien tickled him. Daisy laughed. "You three look like a perfect little family."
Oliver blushed. Damien turned to her, still smiling, making her heart race.
Daisy smirked and took Jake's hand. "Come on, Jake. Let's head to your room and leave Mommy and Uncle Damien alone."
Once they left, Damien walked toward Oliver. She turned to look at him, surprised at how close they were. She stumbled slightly, but Damien caught her by the waist, pulling her into his arms.
"I talked to the doctor," he said softly. "They found three matching donors. Jake's surgery can be done soon."
Oliver's eyes welled with tears. "Thank God… Damien, I don't know how to repay you."
"Don't talk about repayment. It ruins relationships," Damien said. "But if you insist, you could cook me a meal."
"I only added too much salt once—and I was young!" she pouted.
Damien chuckled and gently brushed her lip with his thumb. Oliver's breath caught as she leaned in—
"Ah! I didn't see anything!" Daisy shouted from the hallway, covering her eyes. "Keep going! Pretend I'm not here!"
Oliver's face turned bright red as she realized Damien still had his arm around her waist. She shoved him away and ran to her room.
-------------------------------------------------------
Marvin went to the hospital again and saw Mia calmly eating, framed by the soft afternoon light spilling through the window. Her skin glowed like porcelain, her lashes fluttering gently as she blinked, her dark hair cascading down her shoulders like ink on snow. Even in a hospital gown, she carried an air of delicate elegance that seemed unreal.
He walked in, quietly, then sat on the edge of her bed. Without warning, he held her chin between his fingers and met her eyes coldly.
"Maria, I'm grateful you saved my life, and I'll return the favor—but I won't marry you. You should know I already have a wife and a child… even if we're having issues now."
Mia blinked slowly, her large, teary eyes shimmering like dewdrops. "Brother Damien… I don't understand. I know you're married—I would never dream of marrying you."
"Then why did Mike say you told him I would be his father? That we'd get married? Stop telling a child those things. Do you know the rumors that could spread?"he said his eyes narrowed
Mia's expression didn't falter. Instead, she lowered her gaze, tears slipping from her lashes and trailing down her cheek like fragile pearls. Her voice trembled just enough.
"I never said that, Brother Damien. The nanny… she's been feeding him those ideas. That day, he was so sick… and he asked me, trembling, if you'd be his father. I… I couldn't bear to say no. I just nodded. I never meant to give him hope."
Her voice cracked. "I would never try to be a mistress. I have pride too."
Damien froze. His fingers uncurled from her chin, guilt flickering in his eyes.
Across the room, the golden cat named Dumpling floated in midair, chubby paws clapping in slow, dramatic applause.
"What a performance," he whispered, impressed. "She deserves an award. The crying! The innocent gaze! She even looks like she's about to faint—masterful."
Mia continued, her tone heartbreakingly soft.
"This is why I said I want to distance myself from you. I don't want to cause misunderstandings or give your son false hope. People talk, and my heart can't handle more stress… I'm just… trying to survive."
She took his hand gently. "I may come off like a gold-digger, but I don't care i know when to face reality my job career is dancing and I have heart problem I also have to maintain this artificial heart I also have to take care of myself and my son other can handle it but I can't I don't work so hard and hurt myself and leave my son alone in this world I also have pride you know… my pride means nothing when my son could die without help."
As she sobbed softly, the light caught on a delicate necklace around her throat—one she subtly tilted forward so it glinted just enough.
Damien's gaze softened. "I'm sorry… I didn't mean to doubt you. You're not a burden. You saved my life. I'll help you however I can."
Mia leaned into his chest, her shoulders trembling. "You'll always be my friend, Brother Damien… I just needed a friend to lean on."
She gently helped him sit on a stool beside her. "i know how to make your stress go away trust me "
Mia walked gracefully around the hospital bed, her long lashes fluttering as she gently eased Damien into a sitting position. Her every move was soft, fluid—like a noblewoman in a historical drama, not a patient recovering from heart trauma.
"Brother Damien, you look tired... let me massage your head. I used to help my grandfather this way when he had migraines," she said, her voice light and sweet, a hint of concern coloring her tone.
Before he could decline, her hands—slim, pale, and impossibly soft—rested on his temples. Her fingertips, cool yet comforting, traced slow circles with the precision of someone trained in seduction and sincerity both. They moved with just enough pressure to ease tension but not enough to break the illusion of fragility.
Her skin felt like petals soaked in morning dew—cool, supple, impossibly smooth. Damien blinked slowly, unable to fight the drowsy warmth that crawled down his spine as she gently rubbed the area behind his ears, then moved to the base of his neck.
Her thumbs swept under his hairline in calming arcs while her fingers played like instruments along his scalp, sending tiny electric waves through his body.
"Does it feel good?" Mia asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper. She leaned in slightly, and a soft floral scent—jasmine, perhaps—drifted into Damien's senses. He exhaled, not trusting himself to speak, only nodding.
His shoulders relaxed. His head tilted back ever so slightly, eyes fluttering shut as a sigh escaped his lips.
"Mmm… softer than air," he muttered under his breath, barely audible.
The moment felt quiet… intimate.
Then the door opened.
Mia lifted a single elegant eyebrow at the intruding assistant, her hands stopping just as Damien instinctively leaned back, as if chasing the warmth her hands had left behind.
The moment her fingers left Damien's scalp, he frowned slightly, as if something precious had been taken away.
She stepped away like nothing happened, her expression unchanging—but the absence of her touch was deafening.
At the door, Damien's assistant stood froze.
Mia stood and walked to the restroom. She washed her hands, humming softly, then returned to find the room empty. She sat quietly on the bed, staring at the ceiling, fingers absently playing with her necklace.
"This," she whispered, "is both a curse and a lucky charm…"
Dumpling reappeared, floating lazily beside her. "Whew. Even I almost believed that performance. You sure you're not going to make him fall for you?"
Mia smirked. "No thanks. That's the kind of plot where he loves me only after hurting me, and by then, I'll have buried him under three layers of 'you-messed-up.'"
Dumpling blinked. "Okay, that's fair."
The ghost of Maria hovered silently nearby, looking increasingly pale.
"What about the necklace?" Maria ghost asked. "It's helping you because he thinks you're his savior. It's dangerous."
"I know. But I'm not like you. I know when to retreat and when to strike. A double-edged sword is still a sword—and I'll make sure I'm the one holding it."
Dumpling floated dramatically. "Must you always praise yourself while insulting others?"
Mia gave him a lazy smile. "Sorry, bad habit. Also…"
She turned her head toward Maria's ghost and said sweetly, "You should learn how to act too. If you're going to fake it, at least do it right. I've seen toddlers cry with more conviction."
Dumpling nearly burst laughing, rolling in the air like a puffball. "SHE SAID WHAT SHE SAID!"
Maria's ghost went paler than usual, her spiritual body visibly shaking.
"I hate you both," she muttered.
Mia smiled. "That's the spirit."