Mafia's Surrogate Bride Chapter 77

Antonio’s POV

I heard Damian's voice echo down the hospital corridor, sharp with panic I'd never heard from him before.

"Find out who can donate this rare blood type immediately," he was saying into his phone. "I don't care what it costs. Get them here now."

The hospital had turned into chaos since they brought Aria in. Doctors rushing everywhere, nurses calling out medical terms I didn't understand, machines beeping with urgent warnings. All because a bullet meant for me had found her instead.

I pulled my attention back to the present moment. Dr. Martinelli stood in front of us, his face grim.

"We have a serious problem," the doctor continued. "The preliminary tests show Miss Rossi has Rh-null blood type. It's extremely rare—fewer than fifty people worldwide have it. We call it 'golden blood' because it's so hard to find compatible donors."

"What did you say?" I asked.Golden blood. The same impossibly rare type that ran through the Montrosso family line.

"Rh-null blood type, sir. Without a compatible donor, we can't perform the transfusion she desperately needs."

Adrian appeared at my side, having rushed here from wherever Damian's call had found him. His face was pale with worry.

"How certain are you about this blood type?" Adrian demanded.

"We're running confirmation tests, but the initial results are clear," Dr. Martinelli replied. "If we can't locate a donor soon..."

He didn't need to finish the sentence. We all understood what he meant.

Damian ended his phone call and turned to us. "I'm mobilizing every contact I have. Someone will know where to find donors with this blood type. Whatever the cost—"

"Stop looking," I interrupted quietly. "You don't need to search anymore."

Everyone turned to stare at me.

"I have the same blood type," I said, my voice growing stronger. "Take my blood. Save her."

The silence that followed was complete. Even the background noise of the hospital seemed to fade away.

Adrian was the first to react. "No, grandfather. Absolutely not. You're eighty-three years old. It's too dangerous."

"The risk is mine to take," I replied firmly.

Dr. Martinelli cleared his throat. "I must strongly advise against this, Signor Montrosso. Donors over seventy face significant health risks. And there are concerns about blood quality for younger recipients—"

"My blood is fine," I cut him off. "My last physical showed everything normal. Use it."

Before anyone could argue further, Damian's phone rang again. He answered immediately, speaking rapidly in Italian. Within minutes, he was coordinating with his network, using every resource at his disposal.

"I have three potential donors being located," he announced after ending the call. "They'll be here within two hours maximum."

I watched him work, impressed despite everything. This was Damian's power in action—the ability to move mountains when something mattered to him. This efficiency, this capability to solve impossible problems, was exactly why I'd wanted him with Adrian. This was why our families needed to stay allied.

But right now, I couldn't focus on family politics. My mind was racing, trying to process what the doctor had just told us.

Aria had the same blood type as my family. The same golden blood that had made medical emergencies terrifying for generations of Montrossos, because compatible donors were nearly impossible to find.

It had to be a coincidence. Our family bloodline was documented going back centuries. There was no possibility of error, no chance that some unknown relative existed. The Montrosso lineage was sacred, carefully maintained, absolutely certain.

And yet...

I sank into one of the plastic chairs lining the corridor, my walking stick resting against my knee. The timing of everything kept bothering me. Aria's age, the strange connection I'd felt to her from the beginning, the way she'd thrown herself in front of that bullet without thinking.

I shook my head. It was impossible. Our family didn't make those kinds of mistakes.

But doubt, once it took root, was hard to remove.

Around me, the hospital continued its urgent rhythm. Nurses hurried past, monitors beeped steadily, and somewhere behind those operating room doors, surgeons worked to repair the damage done by a bullet meant for me.

She had saved my life. This girl who owed us nothing, who had every reason to hate our world—she'd thrown herself between danger and an old man without hesitation.

When was the last time anyone had risked themselves for me without being paid to do it? When had someone protected me simply because they cared, not because of money or power or fear?

The answer was disturbing: never.

In eighty-three years, surrounded by family and allies and business partners, not one person had ever shown the kind of pure courage Aria had demonstrated tonight. Even Adrian, raised with every advantage and groomed for leadership, would have calculated the risks first. She would have thought about her own safety, her own future.

But Aria had simply acted out of love.

Love. The word stuck in my mind as I sat in that sterile corridor.

"Sir?" A nurse appeared beside me. "The donor blood is being prepared. Surgery can proceed normally now."

"Thank you," I managed.

Damian had stopped pacing and now stood against the wall, staring at the operating room doors. In the harsh hospital lighting, he looked younger, more vulnerable than I'd ever seen him.

He loves her, I realized suddenly. Whatever brought them together, whatever complications exist between them—he loves her.

The thought should have worried me more. Adrian's future with Damian was crucial for maintaining our family alliance. Their marriage would secure decades of prosperity and protection, binding our organizations together.

But watching him now, seeing the fear in his eyes at the thought of losing her, I wondered if forcing that arrangement would destroy something precious.

If she survives this, I decided silently, I'm going to ask Ricardo to adopt her officially. Make her a Montrosso in name as well as spirit.

She would be my granddaughter in all the ways that truly mattered. I would love her the way I loved Adrian—completely, protectively, with all the devotion that family demanded.