Snatched By The Don: My Enemy's Father

　　Rena's POV.

　　It's yet another desperate day for me, the countdown to my mom's death was ticking away.

　　Arriving at the doctor's office, he began without pleasantries. "Miss Rena, you only have a few days left. If your mother doesn't receive treatment now, she will die. Hope you know?"

　　He's told me this more than anyone has called my name in the last eight days that my mom's sickness relapsed. But what more can I do, than what I've already done?

　　"Is there no buyer for my kidney yet?" I asked.

　　Doctor Mark's expression changed. He looked shocked, as if I've grown several heads. It was the same look he gave me when I first proposed selling one of my kidneys last week.

　　I felt a surge of frustration. Why was he judging me? He knows I have no other options. My mom's treatment is expensive, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes.

　　It's not like he would treat her for free, so why condemn my choice?

　　"Let's focus on exploring alternative options," Doctor Mark said gently, avoiding my question.

　　He gave me a pitiful look, making me frown. He's always looked at me this way and I hate to be pitied.

　　"Please, Doctor Mark. I need to know if there's a buyer. It's my only chance to save her." My voice cracked, betraying my desperation, despite my calm facade.

　　With a calm breath, he began. "Miss Rena, selling your kidney is riddled with risks," he continued with a stern face. "It's illegal, and complications can arise, such as organ failure, excessive bleeding, and a shortened lifespan. Even if you avoid these, you may live with regret and psychological distress."

　　I clenched my fist. He was right, I'll regret it, because right now, I was scared to even conceive the thought of losing one kidney. But my mom was as important as my kidney.

　　"You lecture me about risks, but what choice do I have?" My voice trembled. "If I don't act, my mom will die. Do you have a better option?"

　　Doctor Mark's gaze softened as he pondered the situation. After a few seconds of deep thought, he spoke.

　　"Take a loan, talk to friends, do whatever you can to raise the funds - just please, don't consider selling your organs."

　　He paused, leaning back in his chair. "I'll make you a deal: if you can cover half of the medical bills, we'll commence treatment immediately."

　　I shook my head in my mind. I have no friends. Suddenly, Roland, my millionaire boyfriend, flashed in my mind, but my stomach twisted into knots. He'd never help me without strings attached.

　　Today marked our one year anniversary. We were supposed to have a celebration later tonight, but that was all our relationship was about. He'd do anything for me, except give me money.

　　I have to earn it, even from him.

　　It's not as if I haven't spoken to him before. I begged Roland when my mom suddenly had a relapse, and he'd agreed to help me in exchange for favors. I readily did what he wanted, except the last one. It crossed a moral line and I couldn't see myself doing it.

　　But now, as desperation clawed at my heart, I began to consider it. Should I compromise? If I don't, my mom might really die.

　　I don't have anyone else in this world. She's the only one I have, the only family I know.

　　"Maybe I can ask my boyfriend." I muttered, the words tasting bitter on my tongue.

　　Doctor Mark nodded, "That'll be better. You should hurry up and get the money before the end of tomorrow, so we can start the operation as soon as possible."

　　I clenched my fist, as my resolve hardened. I have no choice. I hope I can forgive myself after this.

　　Leaving Doctor Mark's office, I headed to Roland's penthouse.

　　Entering the house, I glanced around at the luxurious living room. I've been here many times but I've not really gotten used to the luxury. I'd never experienced luxury before I met Roland.

　　My life took a dramatic turn when Roland walked into the coffee shop where I worked a year ago as a barista, and we fell deeply in love. It still feels like a dream that a nobody like me was dating a billionaire, though a stingy one, I'd say.

　　"Roland?" I called out, my voice bouncing off the white walls.

　　I ascended the twirling staircase, my sneakers thudding softly on the marble steps.

　　Checking the rooms I knew he'd be, he wasn't there. He wasn't in the bedroom, bathroom, study, or living room. A familiar thought struck me – he must be unwinding in his jacuzzi with friends.

　　As a third-generation heir to the esteemed Harrington empire, Roland's lifestyle was that of recklessness, wastefulness, and scandal. His father, the CEO of Harrington empire was there to protect his only son, so why won't Roland walk with his head?

　　Arriving at the balcony, the warm glow of the setting sun spilled across the floor. As I stepped outside, the sound of gentle bubbles and soft music enveloped me.

　　There he was, alone, without his friends, submerged in the jacuzzi, eyes closed, a glass of scotch resting on the edge. Steam rose from the water, misting the air. The city skyline stretched out before him, a breathtaking view.

　　I was mesmerized by the look. He's a handsome guy with a wicked charm.

　　Roland's eyes opened, locking onto mine. A hint of a wicked smile played on his lips.

　　"Join me, Rena," he said, his voice low and inviting.

　　I hesitated, my purpose for coming here wasn't to indulge in his luxuries. "I need to talk to you, Roland," I said, closing the distance between us, sitting on the lounge chair beside the jacuzzi.

　　"Business or pleasure, Rena?" he asked, his voice low and smooth.

　　My face flushed. Clearing my throat, I replied. "Business."

　　Roland's smile widened, and he leaned back, cradling his scotch glass. "I'm listening."

　　"Roland, I need your help. My mom's condition has worsened, and I need financial assistance for her treatment."

　　A glint flashed in his eyes and I could swear I saw his lips raise for a split second before he masked it with indifference. "Go on."

　　I took a deep breath, my heart drumming in my chest. "I want to borrow some money, lots of it. What do you want in return?"

　　A sly smile spread across his face. "You know exactly what I want."

　　My stomach twisted. I did. And I dreaded it.

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