After the Doctor finished examining Phoebe, she carefully explained her fragile physical and prenatal condition. Her body was utterly depleted from a toxic combination of high fever, severe stress, and emotional exhaustion. The doctor warned that if phoebe remained in this highly stressed state, it would inevitably take a devastating toll on her pregnancy.
Raymond merely nodded, his face a mask of calm composure as the doctor took her leave, handing over several essential vitamins for Phoebe to consume later.
Outside, Enzo stood waiting in the hallway, kept at a strict distance from the master bedroom. Raymond had made it explicitly clear. Enzo wasn't permitted to step a single foot into the room of his most cherished woman.
Left alone with her, Raymond sat heavily in the chair beside the bed. His gaze locked onto the beautiful woman currently lying unconscious before him. In all his moments of cold, calculated sanity, Raymond had never once reached out to hold Phoebe's hand, save for that explosive confrontation on the balcony earlier. But now … he reached out, his large hand gently wrapping around hers, holding it with a sudden, desperate sense of hope.
"I've never had a reason to care about someone fainting. I wouldn't care even if they died right in front of me," Raymond murmured into the quiet room, his thumb tracing the back of her knuckles before he brought her hand to his lips, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against her skin. "But seeing you unconscious like this ... it feels entirely different."
He kept his grip tight, refusing to let her go. "You aren't weak. You're just suffocating from a reality you never planned for."
Raymond understood her better than she thought. A woman as fiercely independent as Phoebe undoubtedly had her entire life meticulously planned, including a strict list of boundaries and vulnerabilities she intended to avoid at all costs. And right now … Raymond knew she was nowhere near ready to open her heart to him.
Suddenly, a sharp vibration broke the silence. Seeing Enzo's name flashing on his phone screen made Raymond's brows furrow in immediate irritation. He answered, stepping slightly away from the bed so his voice wouldn't disturb Phoebe's rest.
"Why the hell are you calling me right now?" Raymond hissed, his voice dripping with blunt, dangerous honesty. "You're disrupting my time with her."
"I apologize, Boss." Enzo's voice crackled from the other end, laced with rare tension. "But this time, you absolutely need to hear this."
"Make it fast!"
Refusing to waste another second, Raymond pushed open the glass door and walked out onto the balcony, closing it behind him as the conversation took a sharp, dead-serious turn against the whistling wind.
"'You know her condition right now," Raymond growled into the receiver. "There is absolutely no way I am flying to Spain anytime soon!"
"I know, but this situation has become incredibly urgent," Enzo countered urgently. "Are you really just going to let everything you've built collapse?"
"I don't give a damn!" Raymond snapped, his anger flaring.
On the other end of the line, Enzo let out a heavy, stressed exhale before immediately sending over the encrypted data files, revealing the true, catastrophic scale of the crisis. Raymond stared at the screen, his jaw tightening as he processed the numbers.
"The damage isn't just financial anymore, Boss." Enzo pressed on, his tone heavy with caution. He wasn't trying to give orders, but rather trying to force a sense of cold rationality back into Raymond's mind, which had clearly been compromised by panic over Phoebe. "If this leaks, it could completely expose your true identity to the public. Don't forget who you are dealing with. There are tens, possibly hundreds of millions of dollars rotating in this partnership alone!"
*****
Everything had suddenly become chaotic. This wasn't a minor setback, nor was it a small, inconsequential matter. If Raymond didn't meet them immediately and take direct action on the ground in Spain, the resulting damages would be catastrophic and Raymond wasn't the type of man to tolerate losses. He knew his massive wealth wouldn't even flinch at the multi-million-dollar deficit, but failure and ruin were things his ego simply could not accept.
By the time he stepped back into the bedroom, his expression had shifted. The trace of panic was gone, replaced by a dark, simmering rage.
"You can leave and you don't ever have to come back."
The cold sentence cut through the quiet room, halting Raymond in his tracks. He had been walking with his head down, staring intently at the floor, but the voice forced him to snap his gaze upward.
The woman who had been unconscious just moments ago was now wide awake. Phoebe didn't hold his gaze for long, instantly averting her eyes the second their paths crossed.
"You're awake?" Raymond murmured, a genuine wave of relief washing over his features. "Thank God."
"You can leave right now," phoebe repeated, her tone brittle. "Without worrying about finding a way back."
Instead of answering her immediately, Raymond closed the distance between them. He walked over to the bedside, sinking into the chair so his eyes were leveled with hers. "What are you talking about, sweetheart?"
Phoebe let out a sharp, mocking smirk. "I'll never be the reason someone stays in a place out of pity."
"Hey, what is that supposed to mean?"
Phoebe snapped her head back toward him, her gaze cutting into him like glass. "I said you can leave and never come back! I can take care of myself. Besides, my illness isn't your responsibility, so you don't need to loiter here just because I'm sick!"
Raymond narrowed his eyes, studying the woman speaking to him with such fierce arrogance. But Raymond wasn't a fool, he didn't buy her prideful act for a single second. Beneath that rigid, defensive armor, he didn't see defiance, he saw a deeply buried spark of jealousy, and a fragile fear of being abandoned.
"I don't pity you."
"Oh, really? Good then!" phoebe's smirk widened, though her eyes remained cold. "Then you can leave immediately and go handle that business of yours, which seems so incredibly massive and important!"
"My most important business is right here."
"You have no business here!"
"You are my business, and you are more important than anything else. Do you understand me … Miss Fortunata?"
Raymond had no intention of dragging out a futile debate. The moment Phoebe parted her lips to retaliate, he leaned forward, pressing his index finger gently against her soft lips to silence her.
"Save your energy to get your health back," Raymond commanded smoothly, his voice dropping into a deeper, unyielding frequency. "Not to argue with me."
He knew exactly how to handle a stubborn creature like Phoebe. He needed to assert his dominance without roaring or backing her into a corner. Being too soft would only lengthen her resistance, but an unyielding, calm authority was her kryptonite.
"I don't like being controlled," Phoebe hissed through her teeth, glaring at his finger. "Especially by someone like you."
"I am not controlling you," Raymond countered, tracing the curve of her jaw with a dangerously slow touch before pulling his hand away. "But you should at least know how to take care of yourself. Am I wrong?"
Again and again, frustration flared hot in Phoebe's chest. In all her life dealing with powerful men in high society, she had rarely felt this utterly cornered and worse … she had never felt this terrifying, latent urge to actually obey.
*****
"You haven't eaten yet? It's better for you to eat something before you go back to sleep."
"And what exactly are you ordering me to eat?" Phoebe countered, her question dripping with deliberate, biting sarcasm.
"There is food in your dining room, isn't there? If not, I can order whatever you want. What are you craving right now?"
"Nothing."
"Don't be like that. Just tell me."
At first, Phoebe was too exhausted to even respond, dismissively turning her face away from Raymond. But then, a sudden thought struck her. She snapped her head back, locking Raymond in a dead-serious gaze that made him narrow his eyes in confusion, waiting for her answer.
"Have you figured it out? What do you want to eat?"
Phoebe nodded slowly.
"Tell me. I'll get it for you."
This time, Phoebe shook her head, leaving Raymond visibly perplexed.
"Or would you prefer the chefs in your house to cook it? Just say the word, and I'll pass it along to them."
"Anything," Phoebe smirked, her eyes gleaming with a challenge. "as long as you are the one cooking it."
"Sorry?"
Phoebe's smirk widened. "I believe you heard exactly what I said."
The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly, growing thick with tension as the two of them locked eyes. Phoebe was entirely confident that Raymond would refuse to submit to her ridiculous demand.
"If you're not willing, you know exactly where the exit is and stop telling me to—"
"I'll cook for you."
Raymond cut her off, the words leaving his lips with a dangerous, dark serenity. He didn't even blink. He didn't look like a man subverting his pride, he looked like a predator who had just found a more amusing game to play.