Chapter 7

The thought of that man made Emilia clench her jaw. Still furious about how rough he’d been the night before, she crushed the business card in her hand and shoved it deep into her coat pocket. Like hell she’d ever need it. After heading home to change and wipe off her makeup, Emilia stopped by the ATM—and froze. Her account had a balance of 250,000. She stared at the screen, completely thrown off by how generous he’d been. With that money, she paid off all the hospital bills, and there was still enough left to cover her mom’s surgery and then some. "Hey there, sweetie, you’re here?" Emilia’s mom lit up the second she saw her, even with a nurse trying to feed her. She pushed the blanket aside and practically leaped off the bed to get to her. "Mom..." Emilia hugged her tight, eyes turning red. Things had gone downhill after Emilia’s dad passed. Her mom started to struggle mentally, running a tiny store just to get by and raise Emilia. Then, three years ago, someone told her Emilia’s dad might’ve had an affair, and it broke her—completely. As if that wasn’t enough, she ended up getting diagnosed with multiple myeloma. To pay for her treatment, Emilia sold the store. Still, it wasn’t nearly enough. With no other option, she bit the bullet and started working at a nightclub as a hostess. The money was fast, at least. Emilia's mom held onto her and wouldn’t let go, pouting about how she hadn’t come in days. Emilia comforted her, took the bowl from the nurse, and gently fed her. Soon after eating, her mom dozed off, all worn out. Emilia tucked her in carefully, her eyes misty. “Mom, you’re all I’ve got. I swear, whatever it costs, I’ll save you.” Once her mom was settled, Emilia went to see the attending doctor, Dr. Lee. Dr. Lee looked to be in his thirties and had always been kind. He'd gone out of his way to help with her mom’s care, even convincing the hospital to hold off on collecting bills. “Thank you, Dr. Lee,” Emilia said, handing him an envelope once they were in the hallway. “I really appreciate everything you’ve done for my mom.” “No need for that,” he said, gently pushing the envelope back. “Save it to get her something nutritious. Her surgery’s scheduled for next week. She’ll be just fine.” Emilia nodded, voice soft with gratitude. “Thank you—really.”