Chapter 1

My mafia husband has a childhood sweetheart. Whenever she or her son needed anything, he would eagerly rush to their aid.

This time, when our son Noah suffered from acute retinopathy and desperately needed his signature for surgery, he claimed she was in mortal danger and couldn't leave.

Because he wasn't there to sign the paperwork, Noah ultimately went blind.

Yet later, on his sweetheart's Instagram, I saw that he was just dining with her and her son...

Chapter 1

Blood suddenly poured from my son Noah's eyes.

I rushed him to the hospital. After a tight flurry of activity, the doctor approached me, his face grim.

"Ma'am, the child is suffering from acute retinopathy paired with a fundus hemorrhage," he said, looking me in the eye. "We recommend surgery as soon as possible."

"Do it right now," I answered almost instinctively.

But the doctor didn't nod. "The surgery carries extremely high risks, including the possibility of total blindness, atrophy of the eyeball, or even life-threatening complications. According to protocol, a legal guardian with legal status must sign the high-risk surgery consent form."

"I am his mother," I said, though my voice lacked confidence.

Five years ago, driven by my love for Damian, I left my home and came to America with him. But in the end, under the guise of love, he kept me caged within his family estate. In these five years, he hadn't even arranged legal status for me to live here.

"With me around, you don't need it," Damian had comforted me back then.

But now, I couldn't even guarantee my basic rights as Noah's mother.

Just as I feared, the doctor's gaze narrowed slightly. "Your files show that you currently have no legal status in the US, nor any independent financial standing. Is the child's father here?"

I shook my head.

An hour ago, Damian had just gotten home and was about to play with Noah when he received a call from Viola, his childhood sweetheart. She claimed that she and her son, Leon, were in danger.

Without a moment's hesitation, Damian dropped Noah's toy and rushed to Viola's location.

I just never expected that barely half an hour after Damian left, Noah's retinas would suffer such a sudden and acute lesion.

The doctor frowned, his tone stiffening. "We recommend completing the surgery within three hours. He needs to be wheeled into the operating room within an hour at the latest, or the chances of restoring his vision will be disastrously low."

My throat went dry.

"You mean... if he doesn't show up to sign within an hour, my son could go permanently blind?"

The doctor nodded. "We will begin the pre-op preparations, but we cannot perform any high-risk procedures without his father's authorization."

I quickly pulled out my phone. My palms were slick with sweat.

At the very top of my contact list was "Damian," saved with the note "Husband" that I had added myself years ago.

I pressed dial.

Beep—beep—beep—

It connected quickly, but he wasn't the one who answered.

"Ma'am," it was Alec. "The Boss is currently dealing with an emergency."

"Tell him Noah is in the hospital," I blurted out. "Acute retinopathy. The doctor says if he doesn't sign within an hour, Noah will go blind. Tell him to get here and sign right now."

Silence lingered on the other end for a few seconds.

"Miss Viola was attacked at the port," Alec explained. "The Boss is rushing to—"

"I don't care about Viola," I cut him off. "Give him my exact words: his son might go permanently blind in an hour. Let's see who he chooses."

Alec let out a soft breath. "I will inform the Boss. Please soothe the child in the meantime."

The call ended.

I rapidly typed a text message, attaching the hospital's address, the department, and a photo of the countdown screen in the hallway.

[Noah has acute retinopathy. Needs surgery within an hour or he'll go permanently blind. Must have you here to sign the high-risk consent form. X University Affiliated Hospital, ER Ophthalmology.]

After hitting send, I dialed again.

This time, a busy tone.

I stared at the screen, feeling something sour rising in my throat.

Nearby, a nurse pushed the examination bed, rolling Noah into the observation room. His eyes were fixed beneath the medical equipment, the glaring light making the blood look even more piercing.

"Mommy..." he reached out blindly. "Is Daddy coming?"

I gripped his small hand until my knuckles turned white. "He is. He knows you're sick. He'll definitely come."

Just as the words left my mouth, I saw the doctor walking toward me. "We'll dilate the child's pupils and do some baseline treatments first. Once your husband arrives, he can sign the pre-op authorization."

I nodded and dialed the number once more.

Busy tone.

I didn't stop. I repeated the process, failed, and repeated it again.

It felt like if I just kept dialing, he might finally answer and say, "I'm on my way."

While the doctor began explaining the pre-op preparations, my eyes unconsciously drifted to the electronic map on my phone.

It was the Family's tracking software. To control the movements of his members and ensure timely backup, Damian forced everyone to install a location app on their phones—myself included.

I opened "Boss's Location." The little red dot on the screen was moving rapidly.

Not toward the hospital, but down another road in the exact opposite direction.

I stared at that route, feeling something inside my chest slowly freezing over.