012 | Chapter Twelve - How Much Time Is Left?

"I can't fall yet, I still have my child and her..."

That day, after Diaz suffered another inexplicable bout of dizziness, he slammed the bathroom door shut and entered, forcefully drawing a line between himself and her, unwilling to let her see his vulnerable side.

His tense muscles only gradually relaxed after he confirmed that Xiaoyue had left the bedroom.

The luxurious scene in the bathroom now seemed particularly cold and lonely. He pinched his brow, sighed deeply, and rarely did his brown eyes reveal a trace of vulnerability or helplessness.

Diaz walked to the shower, trying to calm himself down with the lukewarm water and slightly alleviate the damn dizziness. The warm water slid down his firm skin, making the intricate tattoo patterns come to life, as if they would come to life at any moment.

Steam rose and swirled in the bathroom, but his arms, gripping the tiles, showed no sign of slackening. His brown eyes, which had just been slightly vulnerable, were now sharp and determined, as if he had made a firm decision.

"Diaz Vincent...when the hell did you become so weak? It's just an illness, and you still want women to worry about you?" he muttered under his breath, a twisted smile curling at the corner of his mouth.

After a while, when the sound of water stopped, he grabbed a bath towel and simply wrapped it around his lower body. He strode open the bathroom door and walked into the slightly cool bedroom. You could almost see the smoke swirling around him slowly dissipating.

Diaz took his phone, first went to the door to make sure no one was in the hallway, and then returned to the bedroom to make the call.

"...Yes, it's me. See you in five minutes." He simply said this, then turned off his phone, tossed it onto the bed, and started rummaging through his clothes and bag on the low table next to him. After a while, he finally found a limited edition cigar.

He deftly lit it, then took a deep drag—

"Hiss... Hah—" Diaz squinted, letting the smoke flow through his body, numbing the damned panic and anxiety he had felt earlier, and his entire shoulder line relaxed again.

He gazed at the East Coast night view through the large floor-to-ceiling windows, cigar smoke curling around his fingertips, his expression gradually turning cold.

Although he had promised Xiaoyue that he would never touch cigarettes again for the sake of the child...

"I can't care about that now." Diaz took a deep drag, exhaled the smoke, put on his shirt and trousers with the cigar in his mouth, and without any extra movements, pushed open the bedroom door, leaving behind the lingering white smoke, and then closed the heavy door.

Thump, thump, thump...

His footsteps echoed heavily on the felt carpet, one heavy step after another. The warm light from the ceiling made his tall, muscular back appear lonely, as if he were carrying some great mission.

On the other hand, there's Xiaoyue in the restaurant.

She sat alone at the empty long table, with Mark in the crib beside her. Several attendants, nannies, and servants stood by, the dim light and the exquisite dishes on the table adding to the atmosphere. But the head of the table was missing a figure.

"Madam, would you like to have your meal first?" the butler asked respectfully, bowing.

She looked at Diaz's seat, then at the clock on the wall... Twenty minutes had passed, but he hadn't appeared.

"...Maybe, wait a little longer." Xiaoyue looked at the empty seat, but her mind was filled with the image of him kneeling awkwardly and slamming the door, cutting her off.

Thinking of this, her delicate face lowered silently, and her azure eyes dimmed.

At this moment, the bodyguards and Diaz's servants whispered to each other, as if confirming something, glancing at her from time to time and talking quietly.

"Madam, the Godfather said he will not dine with you, so please make sure you eat well." The butler bowed slightly and said again, snapping his fingers. The servants who were waiting nearby immediately began to move, carrying in exquisite food one after another and placing it in front of her.

But upon hearing this, her gaze deepened.

Xiaoyue looked at Mark, who was sleeping peacefully, and gently teased his palm. A surge of sorrow welled up in her heart, making her dry eyes burn with heat.

The diamond ring on her hand was sparkling, and it should have been a symbol of a vow to stay together through life, old age, sickness and death. Why did it become so vulnerable at this moment?

Even if he refuses to say...

But such obvious changes, a pale and tired face, and repeated dizziness... how could they possibly escape her notice?

It wasn't that she wasn't worried, but she remembered what she had promised Diaz in the "game room"... She was afraid that if she asked even one more question, that man might punish her severely in the name of his "master".

...Even care that comes from love is the same.

The scene shifts back to Diaz, who is not currently inside the residential building, but rather at Saien's hidden clinic outside.

He sat on the cold, hard iron chair, looking at the report on the table. His face was gloomy and cold. The air was so still that it seemed like it would explode at any moment. Sai's collar was soaked with cold sweat. He kept pushing up his glasses, which had slipped down due to the sweat, and dared not speak.

"So you're telling me... how much time do I have left since my last checkup?" Diaz asked, his voice low and hoarse, as if it could crush a person.

Sain pushed up his glasses, looking at the report on the table with his brows furrowed deeply.

"According to this report... there are only three months left," he said cautiously.

But Diaz wasn't having any of it. He suddenly stood up, grabbed the iron chair he had just been sitting on, and angrily slammed it against the white wall behind him with a loud "bang!"

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

He put one hand on his hip, tousled his hair with the other, and kept cursing loudly, "Didn't they say it was just a suspected case when we checked it a year ago?"

"—What do you mean by saying I only have three months left?" Diaz turned around, the whites of his eyes tinged with crimson, his brown pupils revealing his sanity on the verge of collapse, and a closer look revealed his slightly trembling hands.

He pointed at the report on the table and pounded on it forcefully, shouting, "My... my son was just born!"

"You're telling me I only have three months left? How am I supposed to teach him to fire the first shot? How am I supposed to watch him take the first step?" He grinned distortedly, his wide eyes looking like they were about to bleed, but Saien kept his head down and didn't dare to say another word.

"I haven't even heard a single 'Daddy' and I'm going to die already?!" He ripped open the buttons on his shirt, his chest heaving like a balloon about to burst. "What the hell is this?!"

Perhaps this wasn't the first time Saine had witnessed Diaz's outburst, but facing a ruthless underworld godfather, he couldn't help but tremble. Even so, he slowly raised his head, picked up the report, pointed to the area around Diaz's ribs, and said, "According to the report, your dizziness is suspected to be due to the spread of cancer cells in your stomach..."

"I know you've been trying to avoid things from coming to this point, which is why you've been so focused on finding a woman—" Before Sain could finish speaking, Diaz grabbed him by the neck with a strong grip.

His brown eyes glared at Saien as if they were burning, and his deep voice sounded like a low groan from hell.

"Shut your mouth...!" His fingers tightened, gripping Sion's neck like an iron clamp. "This is none of your business!"