The woman recoiled, her hands flying to her face in shock.

"Diego..."

Diego Cox’s eyes were bloodshot, the veins in his forehead pulsing with rage. "Aliza! I can’t believe you had the nerve to show your face here. Why did you keep her condition a secret? You stood by and watched as I hurt her—what kind of twisted game are you playing?"

Aliza sobbed, tears streaming down her face. "I—I thought it was a confidential medical matter. I didn't feel it was my place to disclose it..."

Diego let out a dry, incredulous laugh, squeezing his eyes shut in frustration. "Fine. Then answer me this: why did you suddenly pull out when you were supposed to donate your bone marrow? Answer me!"

At the mention of the marrow, Aliza’s expression shifted to one of indignation. "Whether or not I donate is my choice. Besides, I love you, Diego. I couldn't bear the thought of saving her. I wanted you all to myself."

Diego froze. If he hadn't been so hellbent on making Kya Medina jealous, he never would have staged those photos with Aliza. If he hadn't, Kya might have still had a chance at survival. In the end, he was the one who had cut off her path to life.

A suffocating sensation washed over him. He stepped forward, his eyes burning with cold, sharp intensity. "Aliza, who do you think you are? You actually thought you could get rid of Kya and take her place in this family? Keep dreaming. My wife will always be Kya. I’d never want someone as pathetic as you."

Hearing such a harsh judgment from Diego for the first time, Aliza looked dazed. "Diego, how can you say that? You told me you loved me. You said I was everything to you—how can you just go back on your word?"

Diego stood with his hands on his hips, his jaw tight. "Ask around. I tell every woman that; it’s just pillow talk. Don’t think that just because I fed you some lines, you’ve magically become my partner. Are you really that dense?"

He slumped against the railing, his hands shaking as he lit a cigarette. In the past, he’d used other women just to get a reaction out of Kya. He had wanted to break her, to make her realize he was the one in control.

Eventually, he’d realized he enjoyed the tension between them. Whenever Kya acted out, he would just stand on the sidelines and watch, finding her spirit strangely endearing. It proved, if nothing else, that she truly cared. That’s why he had spent so much time playing these power games.

It wasn't until those photos with Aliza surfaced that Kya had finally snapped. She had surrendered. At the time, he couldn't put his finger on his own feelings, only a heavy, crushing ache in his chest. So, she had been ill all along. And knowing her only potential donor was someone in his circle who had refused to help... she must have felt abandoned.

Thinking of this, Diego inhaled deeply, a lump forming in his throat that made it hard to breathe. He didn't even look up. "Get out of the office. Now. And the financial support for your family? It's being cut off. Get as far away from me as you possibly can."

At these words, Aliza’s legs gave out. She collapsed to the floor, grasping at his suit pants. "Diego, please! My father has so much gambling debt, and my mother is still in the hospital—you can't just ruin me!"

Diego shoved her aside with a grunt of disgust and walked toward his car.

Inside his office, he swept everything off his desk in a fit of rage. Only one thing remained—a photo of him and Kya. He clutched it to his chest. "Kya, you have to survive. I really can't live without you..."

He sat there until the middle of the night, the city lights flickering to life outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, though he felt nothing but a hollow chill. Just then, his assistant stumbled in, breathless.

"Mr. Cox! I don't know if this is good news or bad, but the search and rescue team says they haven't found your wife in the river."