It's Not Always Blood Is Thicker than Water

The doctor’s expression was grim as he finished tending my wounds. “His arms broken. Two fractured ribs and multiple burns on his legs.”

He hesitated before adding, “The worst thing is the stab wound in his chest. It’s only two centimeters away from the heart. If he hadn't been taken to the hospital in time, he wouldn’t survive.”

My mom’s face turned ashen, her body freezing mid-motion. “He got stabbed? 

Scarlet’s eyes filled with tears. “How could it be that bad?”

The memory of that night slammed into me like a wave, suffocating and relentless. The glint of the knife. The sharp sting of metal breaking through my skin. The cold pressure of the floor beneath my knees as I begged them to stop. But no one came. No one listened. That night—those endless, agonizing hours—would haunt me forever.

My mom’s hands curled into fists as she turned to the doctor. “No matter the cost, you have to save my son!”

The doctor nodded. “We’ll do everything we can.”

For the first time in my life, I watched my proud mother sink to her knees before me, her gaze burning with desperation. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. Everything will be okay. I’ll make sure you recover. You’ll rise from this stronger and brighter than ever. I swear that no one will dare to look down on you!”

I met her gaze, my expression cold and empty. Nothing she said could make me believe her anymore.

When mom and Scarlet left to take care of other things, I got out of my bed and slipped out of my ward. My hands were braced by splints on both sides, wrapped tightly in bandages, but I still managed to reach for the phone. My fingers trembled as I punched in the international number, waiting for the line to connect.

“It’s me,” I said when the call went through. My voice was steady despite the shaking in my hands. “I’ve made my decision. I’m going to inherit what my father left for me.”

“Rafael, how did you get here?!” My mother’s worried voice, thick with emotion, broke through my haze.  “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. I thought…” she sobbed, pulling me into her arms the moment she stepped into the room. “I won’t let you get hurt again. Never. Do you understand me?”

After a pause, she glanced at Scarlet, who immediately picked up her phone and smiled brightly.

“Oh, right. So, little brother, I just talked to a specialist.” Scarlet said, her voice almost too cheerful. “Their medical team arrived early in the city. We can schedule your surgery immediately!”

I lifted my eyes and glanced at them both. Was this sudden concern because they realized how close I came to dying? Or was it because they knew even if my hands were fixed, I’d never be able to compete with Cliff?

Well, either way, I didn’t need their charity.

“I’m not having it,” I said coldly. 

Mom’s face tightened. “Rafael, this surgery is your best chance of regaining full use of your hands. If you refuse now, you might lose your hands function for life.”

I shook my head slowly. Whatever. I didn’t care for shit anymore.

She opened her mouth to say something else, but Scarlet suddenly perked up. “Mom, Cliff’s here.”

My mom’s face lit up. “Your friend’s here to see you. Let me take you to him.”

Without asking how I felt about it, she pushed my wheelchair toward the room.

My chest tightened painfully.