Chapter 5 - The Sterile LightThe private medical ward on the twentieth floor of the Romano Tower looked more like a luxury hotel suite than a hospital, equipped with state-of-the-art monitors, cardiac drips, and a dedicated team of specialists handpicked by Ethan himself.
Dr. Vance, a brilliant and notoriously discreet physician who had patched up the Romano family for thirty years, stood beside the bed, adjusting the IV drip as the rhythmic beep-beep-beep of the heart monitor filled the sterile silence of the room.
Ethan sat in a leather armchair beside the bed, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped tightly over his face. His clothes were still damp from the rain, his hair disheveled, his sharp jaw shadowed by stubble. He hadn't moved an inch in three hours.
"She's stable, Ethan," Dr. Vance said quietly, closing his clipboard and walking over to place a reassuring hand on the mafia boss's shoulder. "Severe exhaustion, acute systemic dehydration, and a stress-induced arrhythmia. Her body simply hit a hard stop. It’s what happens when someone runs on empty for six straight months without a single moment of recovery."
Ethan dropped his hands, looking up with bloodshot, exhausted eyes. "Is she going to be alright?"
"Yes. She’s sleeping now. The sedative I gave her is keeping her resting peacefully. But she needs weeks of absolute bed rest, proper nutrition, and zero stress." Dr. Vance paused, eyeing Ethan with a sharp, professional sternness. "That means no spreadsheets, no household management, and no corporate demands. If she comes back to work under the same conditions, her heart won't give her a second warning."
"She's not coming back to work," Ethan said, his voice flat, resolute, and final.
Dr. Vance raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"She’s done working for me," Ethan murmured, standing up slowly and walking over to the side of the bed. He looked down at Vivien’s sleeping face. The harsh lines of stress that had etched themselves around her mouth seemed slightly softer in the quiet light of the monitor. "From this moment on, her only job is healing."
The doctor nodded slowly, turned, and quietly left the room, closing the heavy oak door behind him.
May you like
Ethan pulled a chair closer to the bed. He reached out, his large, calloused hand gently wrapping around Vivien’s limp fingers. They were warm now, thanks to the IV fluids, but her grip was non-existent.
He sat there in the dark, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest, listening to the rhythmic beep of the monitor, and making a silent vow that would alter the course of his entire existence. He would tear down every wall he had built, he would dismantle every toxic expectation of his empire, and he would spend the rest of his days proving to her that she was worth more than all the gold and blood in Manhattan combined.
