At Campolon go Hospital in Milan, Italy. ~
Isabella's heart ached as she entered the sterile, dimly lit hospital ward. Her younger sister, Angela, already sat there, her eyes red-rimmed and teary. In the center of the room lay their father, unconscious and vulnerable, his once vibrant spirit now reduced to a frail figure on a white hospital bed adorned in a blue patient gown. A nasogastric tube snaked from his nose, a lifeline to a body that had been gravely injured.
The somber ambiance of the room was punctuated only by the persistent beep of the blood pressure monitor and the echoing footsteps of nurses moving in and out tending to the patients. It was a scene laden with uncertainty and despair.
"Please Dad, don't leave us," Isabella pleaded, her voice quivering as she clutched her father's frail hand, her eyes filled with tears.
"Dad, you've never broken any promise to me, right? You won't break this one. You promised to stay with us forever" Angela implored, her voice trembling with anguish. Her youthful face was a canvas of sorrow as she leaned over her father's bedside.
The news of their father's accident had devastated them. He had set out on his motorcycle that fateful morning, his routine delivery run taking a tragic turn when he collided with a truck. Now, his life hung in the balance, and his daughters' world had crumbled.
In the suffocating silence, the heart-wrenching moment arrived when the monitor's beeping tragically flatlined.
"Papà! Puoi sentirci (*Dad! Can you hear us?)"
"Dad!"
"Dad! Dad! Can you hear us?" Isabella's voice quivered with desperation.
************
With a heavy heart, Isabella made her way to the doctor's office later that night, her face etched with sorrow. She wore an asymmetrical top and a checked-patterned skirt. The doctor, a gray-haired man in a white coat, sat behind a desk, idly tracing his fingers across its surface while stroking his beard with the other hand. He greeted Isabella with a courteous smile and gestured for her to take a seat.
Seated in front of him, Isabella felt a sense of hopelessness as she realized that her father's life now rested in the hands of this middle-aged physician with a disconcerting smile.
The doctor's gaze locked onto her tearful eyes, her face red and swollen from crying. Yet, even in her grief, her beauty remained undeniable.
"You requested to see me," she managed to say in a shaky voice.
"Yes, I did," the doctor replied with a grin.
"I regret to inform you that your father may not make it unless you can secure the funds for his surgery in time. He needs intensive care, and you're aware of the costs."
"I will find the money for his operation. I'll do whatever it takes. Just please, give me some time. I promise," Isabella implored, hoping to elicit some compassion from the doctor.
"You understand how expensive it is, I'm sure."
"Sì, certamente. (*Yes, I do). That's why I'm asking for more time."
"Time is running out, Isabella. Your father has until next Monday to live if you can't secure the funds," Doctor Matteo reminded her, adjusting his spectacles.
"Please, I'm begging you. Save him. Don't let him die. He's all I have," Isabella pleaded once more.
The doctor stood and approached her, his actions taking a sinister turn, his intentions far from medical. "That's only possible if you're willing to cooperate with me."
YOU ARE READING
Sleeping With A Stranger
Romantika"You will stay in a room and wait to see who has purchased your precious cherry. No niceness, no pleasantries, just a night of f**k, A business contract, signed, dealed and finished with a d**k." Those words sent chills to her spine as she read the...
