SEVENTY SEVEN

Days later, Marco sat at the edge of the hospital bed, glaring at the walking stick beside him, the vintage wooden stick was a constant reminder of his defeat and the injury that had kept him bedridden for weeks. He would be finally discharged from the hospital. The atmosphere in his room was tense as the nurse performed a final check-up, ensuring everything was in order.

The door to his room opened, and the doctor came in, “Mr Moretti.” the doctor called, his voice calm but professional. “You’re healing well,” the doctor remarked, adjusting Marco’s leg brace. “But remember, you need to take it easy. No strenuous activities for a while.”

Marco scoffed, a bitter smile curling on his lips, “As if I have a choice,” he muttered. “Just give me the papers to sign…..I can't even even walk without this damn stick.” he snapped.

The doctor gave him a sympathetic look, giving him the discharge papers , and Marco quickly scrawled his signature.

The doctor gave him a final look, “I understand your frustration, but your recovery is going to take time. Pushing yourself too hard could cause set backs.”

Two of his men, entered the room. They had been outside, eager to get their boss out of the hospial. Marco signalled one of his men to bring his coat, “Let’s get out of here.” he said, his voice laced with impatience.

Marco pushed himself off the bed, leaning heavily on the walking stick. The pain shot through his leg, but he gritted his teeth and forced himself to stand tall.

The doctor watched him with a concerned exoression, as they made their way out of the hospital, Marco leaned heavily on his walking stick, each step a painful reminder of his current vulnerability. The hallway was bustling with a activity, nurses and doctors moving about, but they all seemed to be part for Marco and his entourage. His men flanked him, their presence a silent assurance of protection.

As they reached the hospital entrance, black SUV waiting. One of his men opened the door for Marco, who carefully climbed inside the car, wincing slightly as he climbed inside. Marco's frustration boiled over, “I can't believe I have to rely on this stick.” he grumbled, “I feel like an old man.”

One of his men, trying to lighten the mood, replied, “You’ll be back to your old self soon, boss. Just need to give it some time.”

Marco glared at him, his look darkened but said nothing, turning his attention back to the window as the city faded out. Finally they arrived at his mansion.

Inside, the atmosphere was tense. His men stood at attention, awaiting orders . Marco limped to his study, the echo of his walking stick hitting the marble floor resonating through the hall.

“Boss, do you need anything?” One of his men asked, his voice laced with concern.

Marco shook his head, “Just some time alone, I'll call if I need you.”

The man nodded, and stepped back, giving Marco the space he demanded. As he walked through the hallway, he made his way to his study, Marco sank into the leather chair.

One Marco's entered with a drink, gently dropping it on the table before leaving immadietly.

Marco took a sip, closing his eyes as the alcohol burned down his throat.

Marco picked up his phone and dialed Dominique Santos. As the phone rang,he took a deep breath, his mind racing with possibilities. Dominique answered after a few rings.

“Marco, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Domnique's voice oozed with curiosity and a hint of surprise.

“I need to talk business,Domnique,” Marco said, his voice firm despite the anger that boiled inside him, “I think we can help each other.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line before Dominique responded, “I’m intrigued, what do you have on mind?”

“Can we meet? I have a proposition that could be mutually beneficial.” Marco replied, choosing his words carefully.

Domnique's surprise was evident in his voice, “You’re still in the hospital, aren't you? Why don't we make it easier, I'll come to you.”

Marco’s jaw tightened, “No, I’m out of the hospital. We can meet at my place. Tomorrow evening.”

Dominique chuckled softly, “Very well, Tomorrow evening it is. See you then, Marco.”

Marco hung up the call,his mind already , his mind already occupied with his next move.


….🌵

Dominique was lounging in his living room, he had rented a villa in New York , till after his meeting with Marco. Domnique was genuinely surprised by Marco’s call. Marco Moretti reaching out to meet with him? The thought intrigued him.

“Marco's planning something.” Dominique mused, working the whisky in his glass. “And he needs me for it.” he murmured to himself.

Dominique knew the Moretti family well, and he knew that Marco and Lucas had a complicated relationship. If Marco was desperate enough to reach out to him that means he had something significant in mind.

Dominique set his glass down, and inhaled the cigarette clinged in between his fingers, he took a long drag from the cigarette and puffed out. He picked up his phone and called on of his men that came to New York with him, “Prepare the car for tomorrow evening, We’re meeting Marco Moretti. And make sure to gather all the Intel we have on Marco's recent activities. I want to know exactly what I'm walking into.”

As he hung up, Marco lips widened into a deceptive smile, this unexpected twist may turn the tables in his favor.

Meanwhile in Olivia's apartment, Lucas laid shirtless ,revealing his well defined muscles and tattoo that adorned his skin. Olivia lay beside him, her head resting on his chest, she was dressed in a simple short gown.

Olivia looked up at Lucas, her eyes filled with love and concern, “Lucas, you’ve been here for days. Aren't you busy at the mansion?” She asked softly.

Lucas brushed a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek, “You’re carrying my baby,” he replied, his voice tender and unwavering. “I feel like I can't leave your side.”

A smile spread across Olivia's face, her heart swelling with emotions, “Youvreakky are something, Lucas Moretti. I never imagined you could be this……..possessive of our baby.”

Lucas chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest, “Well, you bring out a different side of me,” he admitted. “Speaking of which, there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

Olivia curiousity piqued, “What is it?”

“I've been thinking,” Lucas began, his tone filled with warmth. “To see your parents,” he said, his gaze softening, as he took her hands in his. “I want to wife you, Olivia Carter. I want you to belong to me fully in every way. I want to do it right way.”

Tears welled up in Olivia’s eyes as she looked at the man she loved, “Lucas, that's the …….the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.”

Lucas leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss on her lips, “We will make the trip after my meeting with Dominique. You and our baby are my world now.”