Chapter 4 The Second Encounter

Vivian’s POV

The water hit me like a slap.

Cold, filthy street water soaked through my dress instantly. My hair clung to my face, the white fabric now a muddy disaster.

"Are you kidding me?" I screamed at the disappearing car.

This cursed day just kept getting worse. First the divorce, then losing everything, now this.

"Hey, you!" I yelled, my voice raw with fury. "Stop your car!"

The car was too far away. They couldn't hear me anyway.

I was done being everyone's doormat.

In pure frustration, I grabbed a stone from the pavement and hurled it with all my strength.

CLANK.

Perfect aim. Right on the trunk.

The car screeched to a halt.

Panic shot through me. That car probably cost more than my entire life. What if they made me pay for repairs?

The driver jumped out, looking annoyed.

"You again?" he muttered.

"What? Do I know you?" I blinked, confused.

"Don't pretend." His voice was stern. "You threw money at Alp-my boss this morning."

Oh God. It was that car.

The damage was done. A small dent in the bumper.

"This is going to cost a lot to fix," the driver said, pointing accusingly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—" I started, then stopped.

"But you splashed me!" I protested. "This dress is ruined!"

Before he could respond, the car door opened.

A polished shoe stepped onto the pavement.

My breath caught.

The man emerging looked like he'd been carved from moonlight and shadows. Tall, intimidating, radiating raw power.

His suit fit him perfectly, every line screaming wealth and authority. His face was too perfect to be real.

I took an involuntary step back.

He ignored me completely at first, walking straight past me to examine the tiny scratch on his bumper.

The silence stretched like a taut wire.

"You turned down my money this morning," he said finally, rising to his full height. "So, this is your revenge?"

My mouth fell open. "I'm sorry—what?"

"You planned this," he said coldly. "Quite the performance."

"Let me get this straight." My voice shook with disbelief. "You think I threw myself into your path twice just to dent your precious car?"

His expression didn't change. Cold, suspicious, infuriating.

"That's exactly what I think."

"I don't know who you think you are," I snapped, stepping forward. "But I don't have time for this conspiracy nonsense."

"Then explain the coincidence."

"Life happens! Not everything revolves around you!"

"In my experience, it usually does."

The arrogance in his voice made my blood boil.

"Well, congratulations," I said sarcastically. "You found the exception."

"So what do you want?" he asked. "Money? A job? Introduction to the right people?"

"I want you to leave me alone!"

"Everyone wants something."

"Not from you."

He studied my face like I was a puzzle he couldn't solve.

"What's your name?" he asked suddenly.

"None of your business," I shot back.

"I'm Ryan Saviano."

I actually didn’t hear his last name clearly, but who cared.

"Good for you."

"Most people recognize that name."

"Well, I'm not most people," I said, turning away. "Have a nice life, Ryan whatever-your-name-was."

I didn't look back.

The man didn’t follow me. But I could feel his gaze lingering on my back, heavy as a brand. Something about him felt dangerous. Like I should run and never stop.

My feet carried me automatically to the hospital.

The familiar sterile smell hit me as I walked through the sliding doors. This place felt more like home than anywhere else these days.

Dad was sleeping when I peeked into his room.

Pale, fragile, nothing like the strong man who used to carry me on his shoulders.

I curled up in the plastic chair outside his room. The uncomfortable seat had become my second home over the past months.

Exhaustion pulled at me like gravity. My eyes drifted shut.

But sleep didn't last long.

Sharp voices jolted me awake.

"Code blue, room 314!" someone shouted.

Room 314. Dad's room.

Doctors were rushing into Dad's room.

I shot to my feet, heart hammering against my ribs. What happened now?

I followed them, pushing through the crowd of medical staff.

"Check his heart rate and send him to emergency. Now!" the lead doctor barked.

"What's going on? How is my dad?" I pushed forward desperately.

"Leave the doctor alone!" A nurse blocked my path. "Can't you see we're busy?"

I stepped back, watching helplessly as they worked with instruments I didn't recognize.

They wheeled Dad out on a gurney, rushing toward the emergency room.

The doors slammed shut in my face.

I could only wait outside, pacing like a caged animal.

Minutes felt like hours. Every second stretched into eternity.

Finally, the doctor and nurses emerged.

"How is my dad?" I asked, voice barely a whisper.

"Don't worry for now." The doctor answered, opening a thick file. "You're his daughter, right?"

"Yes, I am." I wiped my tears quickly.

"I need to inform you about payment. You must pay his medical bills immediately."

My stomach dropped. "How much?"

"One hundred thousand now. But that's just the beginning."

"What do you mean?"

"He needs a heart transplant as soon as possible. The medication alone is extremely expensive."

One hundred thousand. I didn't even have one hundred dollars.

"How much for the surgery?" I forced myself to ask.

"Around two million total. Surgery, recovery, medication, follow-up care."

Two million. I might as well ask for the moon.

"I'll figure it out," I said weakly.

"Miss Lowell, without payment, we'll have to discharge him." The doctor's voice was professional but cold. "He may not survive another episode."

My knees nearly buckled.

"I understand."

The doctor left, leaving me alone with my despair.

Where could I get that kind of money? Even if I sold everything I had—which was nothing—it wouldn't be enough.

"Ah!" I grabbed my hair, wanting to scream.

Why was everything falling apart at once?

A gentle voice interrupted my breakdown. "Excuse me, Miss Lowell. Perhaps I could offer you the money."