Diego’s mind went blank.

He forced his eyes to focus, again and again, until the name on the file finally registered: Kya Medina.

"She… she has leukemia?"

A barrage of memories hit him. The way Kya had been losing clumps of her hair, those random nosebleeds he’d dismissed as simple exhaustion. He had chalked it all up to stress.

"Kya, you idiot! Why didn't you tell me?!"

He thought of the frozen bank accounts, the public humiliations. He had pushed her to the brink while she was fighting for her life. She must have loathed him.

Diego’s fists clenched. He slammed them against the wall with everything he had. Skin split, blood welled, but he barely felt the pain. He trembled, his vision swimming.

He stared at his phone, panic tightening its grip on his chest. He dialed his private investigator.

"Find her. Right now. I don't care what it takes."

A call from his assistant interrupted his spiral: there was a disturbance at the office. Diego paced through the building, his jaw tight. As he reached the stairs, a shrill voice cut through the air. Aliza Cook.

"Are you people insane? It’s my bone marrow, and I’ll donate it if I damn well please!"

"I only considered it for the payout before," she hissed. "But now that I’m with Diego, why would I risk my health? Get lost!"

The doctor sighed, his voice thick with defeat. "Ms. Medina is a good person. Her blood type is incredibly rare. If you don't save her... she won't make it."

Aliza let out a sharp, cold laugh. "Haven't you heard? Kya jumped into the river. She doesn't need my donation anymore."

She froze as she caught sight of Diego standing in the doorway, his face a hollow mask.

"D-Diego?"

Diego moved toward her, his movements stiff and mechanical. "You knew she was sick? You were the donor?"

She nodded, stunned. Diego lunged, grabbing her by the collar, his roar shaking the room.

"Then why the hell didn't you stop me?!"

Aliza was too terrified to answer. The doctor stepped forward, his eyes weary. "Mr. Cox, I know my place, but I watched her suffer for months. It broke my heart when she told me she couldn't afford the treatment. And now... she’s gone."

Diego’s eyes widened. "She actually jumped?"

He looked at Aliza and saw the guilt etched into her pale face. The realization hit him like a physical blow. He shoved past her, stumbling out the door and racing toward the river.

"Kya!"

Police had already cordoned off the area. "A witness reported a jump, sir," an officer said, blocking his path. "We’re searching the water now. Please, stay back."

Diego stood there, feeling the crushing weight of Kya’s despair. No money. No donor. A dead mother. He had been the final nail in her coffin.

He gripped the bridge railing until his knuckles bled. The composure he’d spent a lifetime perfecting shattered into a million jagged pieces. He let out a guttural, primal roar of agony, his shoulders shaking with the force of his sobs.

"Kya... I'm so sorry."

Aliza hurried toward him, reaching out. "Diego, please, stop—"

He whirled around, his face a mask of terrifying, ice-cold rage. He shoved her away with enough force that she stumbled, his eyes burning with an intensity that silenced her instantly.